#don't care if this is a cringe answer because it's just truth

[aotoreiki]

∗ o4﹕ what is your primary source of inspiration for [ character ] ?

Questions for muns

I will pull inspiration from ANYWHERE that I can. Obviously though with Ice because he's a canon a major one is his source game. (As little as there is to glean from it. I will pick it dry. I recorded every piece of his dialogue in both english and japanese and I will overanalyse it to death don't underestimate me)

Outside of what I can get from Shadows of Almia? Ice has about 10 years of my thoughts and experiences behind him. I could literally just say my life at this point.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 (part one) | neil lewis x reader

title comes from the song you already know by bombay bicycle club

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you've been best friends with neil basically your entire life, and secretly in love with him almost as long. will you ever find the courage to tell him the truth?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10k

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut, angst, pining/unrequited love - 18+ only

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | alcohol consumption, 'kid' as a petname, reader being kind of a femcel, jonathan being kind of mvp??

Neil had asked you to make sure the Thriller section was alphabetized; sometimes you thought he was just giving you tasks to look busy, but then again, you could probably use it since the employees of Gumshoe Video never looked very busy.  You spent most of the day on the couches, watching whatever old bizarre gem Neil put on— sometimes you thought he only had employees other than himself so that he could pay people to sit here and watch this stuff with him.  

But, the point is, you were sorting tapes.  Because everyone needs their VHS thriller movies to be in perfect alphabetical order.

There actually was a customer in the store, for once, so it was better not to be on the couch anyhow.  You hadn’t really noticed him when he came in, but as he wandered around the shelves, he seemed to drift towards you.  

You tried to ignore him when he stopped right beside you— and kneeling to look at the lowest shelf, he towered over you— but when you stood up he got your attention.  

"Need any help, sweetheart?" he asked, leaning in a little too close.  "I'm kind of a movie buff."

He had a frat guy kind of look about him— polo, boat shoes, quaffed blonde hair.  He could be good-looking, you thought, if he didn’t dress like a discount Abercrombie model… and if he didn’t hit on random women at the video store.  "I actually work here," you corrected, barely looking up from your task.  This is why we need uniforms instead of just dressing up to promote specials…

"Oh, really?" he smirked.  "What made you wanna work in a place like this?"

"My best friend owns the place," you explained, "and I'm, you know… kind of a movie buff."

"Right," he said, not seeming convinced.  "You like Kubrick?"

You rolled your eyes so hard you almost choked: Wow, what a deep cut.  But you kept a straight-ish face when you looked at him.  "Yeah, he's pretty good.  Don't care for how he treats his actors, but he was certainly a visionary."

"What are your top five favorite Kubrick movies?"

You knew this guy was a tool, but you were still a bit shocked that he actually had the gall to quiz you.  "Excuse me?" you scoffed incredulously.

"Can you even name five?" he asked, looking horribly proud of himself, and you straightened up as you glared at him.

"You're heterosexual, right?" you asked him, getting a confused nod.  "Can you name five women you've made come?"

Neil watched the guy storm out, Lucien cringed a bit from behind the register— and Jonathan, not seeming as if he had been paying attention at all, kept laying across the couch and tossing a ball up in the air to catch and throw again.

“Okay, that’s gotta be the third this week,” Lucien groaned.  “What are you saying to these guys?”

“Nothing worse than what they’re saying to me,” you assured with a frustrated, sarcastic smile.

“Listen, don’t get me wrong,” Neil began, “that guy totally deserved it— but maybe, you know… work on your demeanor with customers?”

“Wow,” you scoffed as you crossed your arms, “do you think I should smile more, too?”

“Wha— no!” Neil denied.  

“Yes,” Lucien said at the same time, though he changed his answer with an awkward cough and mumble when you both shot him a look.  “No, no— you’re good— you smile too much, even…”

“I don’t mean it like that,” Neil promised.  “But I think half the guys that come here are just coming here to see you!  Nobody even rents movies anymore.”  He groaned a little, dropping his shoulders defeatedly.  “Can’t you… tell them you’ll go out with them if they rent something?”

“What?!” you squeaked. “No!”

“Sales would double,” Lucien nodded.

“No,” you said again.  “I’m not letting you pimp me out to sell tapes, Neil.”

“I just mean— maybe you don’t really go out with them,” he suggested.  “Just… allude to the fact that you’re only interested in guys who…”

He trailed off as he searched around the shelves for a bit, smiling when he snagged a copy of The Maltese Falcon.

“— in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” he grinned, “you know— for example.  Then they rent it to impress you and we make a few bucks.”

“I am only interested in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” you frowned, snatching the tape away and shoving it back on the shelf.  “But that’s not the point.”

“Maybe you have to be more straightforward, you know,” Jonathan butted in as he sat up, “guys are dumb.”

“Yeah!” Neil agreed a little too easily.

“Just say something about how a massive VHS collection turns you on,” Lucien suggested, and you glared at him.

“Jesus!” you protested, but Neil tried to soothe you a bit.

"C'mon, kid, can't you just… flirt a little?  Get our sales up?"

He'd started calling you kid since you two watched Casablanca together— which was especially stupid as you were both twelve at the time.  At first you complained because he shouldn't be calling you kid with you both being kids; then you complained because neither of you were kids; and then you gave up.  You still punched Lucien for trying to call you that once… you only barely let Neil get away with it anyways.

But you let Neil get away with a lot.  It was a side effect of being secretly, but massively, in love with him.

It had been an issue since middle school— that was when the two of you became such good friends.  Technically, you’d known each other since first grade (where you had shared your crayons, a true test of friendship at the time), and you’d sort of had a crush on him as early as elementary school (mainly because he was the only boy you could stand at the time), but it all kicked into high gear in seventh grade.  That was when you became inseparable, when you got in trouble together, when you stayed up all night watching movies, when you went through all of life’s ups and downs together: you even went to prom together, platonically of course.  

As for your feelings, you’d managed to hide them this long and still be his best friend, even when it sometimes felt like letting him stomp all over your heart without even trying.  Honestly, the only thing harder than being in love with Neil was trying not to be in love with Neil: you adored his sense of humor, his generosity, his sensitivity— and he’d been there for you through the things you couldn’t have imagined surviving alone.  That kinda stuff bonds you to somebody… and when that somebody has the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen, it’s hard not to fall in love.

“Maybe I would flirt if I knew how,” you offered.  “But I’m not exactly, you know, flirty.”

“How hard could it be?” Jonathan interjected.  “Just, you know—”

You stared in quiet disbelief as Jonathan attempted to push his chest together with his arms.  It wasn’t quite working, of course, and the rest of you watched on as he fumbled around trying to force some cleavage.  “You look like an idiot,” you finally informed him after letting him do it for a minute.

“But is he wrong?” Lucien wondered.

“So, what, you guys really think that if I just went up to customers and—” you pushed your breasts together with your arms, accentuating them significantly in your tank top.

“That would work,” all three men asserted in unison before you could even finish.

“I fucking hate you guys,” you grumbled under your breath as you walked to the back, deciding to take your break in Neil’s office until these guys got their act together.

You never stayed gone for long, though— as idiotic as they could be, your friends were certainly charming.  They won you back with a promise to let you pick what tape to put on, and the four of you ended up laying on the couches watching Roman Holiday.  

When the movie was almost over, you rested your head on Neil’s shoulder; you guys did stuff like that, it was normal for you, but it always made your heart skip anyways.

~

This time, you were all hanging out at Jonathan’s primary workplace: the club.  In fact, it was a much larger crowd than just you and the guys— plenty of your local friends and loyal supporters of Gumshoe Video, all sitting around a big table while someone’s mediocre cover band took the stage.

"So, uh, me and Denise broke up," Neil said suddenly, going back in for another swig of beer right after.

The others offered their mild shock and half-hearted condolences, but you knew it was going to happen— he'd told you before he did it.  You tried to tell him that paying off a waiter to spill water on her was a weird way to prove what he already knew, but you couldn't disagree with his conclusion.  She was definitely difficult, and shockingly judgemental for someone who managed to date a video store owner for this long.

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” he promised, “I don’t think anybody’s too surprised, right?”

There was an awkward hesitation among the group as they wondered if they should lie, or just fess up now that he was obviously accurate.  You broke the silence to suggest someone go get another round of drinks for the table, and even though that was pretty much a one-man job, nearly everyone agreed and quickly shuffled off— leaving just you, Neil, and Lucien.

“I guess tonight’s your chance to meet somebody new, don’t you think?” Lucien suggested.  “Get over Denise, you know.”

“I think I’m already over Denise,” Neil decided.

“And if I told you that girl back there,” Lucien returned, pointing with the hand still holding his drink, “has been looking over here at you for the past ten minutes?”

You glanced where Lucien was pointing as well, seeing a girl in a denim mini skirt and massive hoop earrings settle her eyes on Neil before looking away quickly with a lip-gloss lacquered smile.

“I think I need some help getting over Denise,” Neil agreed suddenly, patting Lucien on the back before he left the table.  

You wanted to pout, but you were used to this— he was good-looking, he got a lot of attention from women in places like this… it usually didn’t work out for him, though.  Certainly not never, probably more often than most guys, but… definitely not every time.

You tried not to look over too much, you didn’t want to get caught spying or, even worse, looking a little jealous— but you noticed that every time you looked over at them, Neil was talking.  That was his problem, see: he never fucking shuts up.  Guys, girls, anybody who will listen— if you admit to not knowing about his favorite fifty-year-old spaghetti western or the most recent pre-Code horror comedy he watched, he’ll gladly blab to you about it for ages.  The first time you glanced at them, you saw her giving him doe eyes, laughing at something he said— and the last time, those eyes had glazed over and her laugh seemed more nervous and confused; you smirked to yourself.  He’s still Neil…

“So, um,” you struck up a conversation with Lucien, “what about you?  Anybody here catching your eye?”

“That’s actually the perfect descriptor of my type,” he replied.  “Anybody.”

You snorted.  “Then you should go, you know, talk to anybody?”

He shrugged and frowned a bit, and it was a simple movement but you understood completely.

The band started to play a new song, something upbeat and energetic, and you smiled.  “Wanna dance with me?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m drunk enough for that—” Lucien began to protest, but a minute later you were dragging him up by the stage.  Neither of you were actually any good at dancing, mainly you were just kind of jumping and flailing around together, but it was fun and that was the point.

Eventually, more of your friends wandered in to join you; when the song ended, everyone clapped and cheered, the band bowing in gratitude.  You only stole one more look over at Neil and his conversation partner, watching her interrupt his rant with a hand on his shoulder: your throat felt a little dry.  You just hoped what she was saying was more like hey, my friends are leaving, I’ve gotta go and not hey, wanna come over to my place so you can keep explaining German expressionism to me?

Your heart dropped when he reached for her— what if he kissed her now?  What if he wrapped her up under his arm and they walked out together?  What if you had to spend the whole night thinking about him having sex with her?

“Hey, we should ask them if they know any Strokes songs!” Lucien suggested, tugging on your arm to get your attention, but your mind was elsewhere.

“Uh huh, yeah,” you mumbled blankly, and he frowned at you.

“What’s going on?” he asked, trying to look for what you were seeing; but Neil wasn’t reaching for her, he was lifting his hand to wave goodbye as she left.  You beamed, even though you did feel a little bad when you saw Neil’s shoulders sink— it’s not that you wanted him to be alone forever, you were just relieved that you might have a few more moments to breathe before he got with somebody again.

“Nothing, sorry,” you answered Lucien, giving him your attention again.  “What’d you say?”

“We should ask the band if they—”

And immediately, Lucien lost your focus as you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at Neil again— he was already looking at you, seeing you all on the dancefloor.  You waved for him to join you, and he smiled as he made his way towards the stage.  A new song began, even louder than the last, and you could blame that for not hearing Lucien’s question for the second time in a row.

Although he danced with you all for a few moments, Neil draped his arms over your and Lucien’s shoulders, nearly yelling to be heard over the music.

“You guys are coming over tonight for a movie, right?” he presumed.  “Jonathan’s working ‘til late so he’s out, but—”

“Sorry, I’ve gotta be up early,” Lucien explained, “my brother and his wife are visiting, remember?  We’re getting brunch and—”

“Whatever, party pooper,” Neil frowned, before suddenly smiling at you.  “Guess it’s just me and you, huh, kid?”

You tried not to sigh too noticeably through your smile.  “Yeah, me and you…” you agreed.

~

As you groggily blinked your eyes open, you found Neil staring at you, his face uncomfortably close to yours, with a big smile.  “Mornin’, kid,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

You yelped and nearly jumped out of your skin while he laughed.  “Jesus Christ, Neil!” you shouted, kicking off the blanket on you— and then you began to process where you were and why.  “God,” you groaned as you held your head in your hands, while Neil kept laughing at you, “did I fall asleep on the couch again?”

It was sort of a rhetorical question— obviously you had, it would be much stranger if you woke up on the video store couch without having fallen asleep there.  “Yeah,” he said, standing up and sighing a bit, “but you didn’t miss that much of the movie.”

“What happened at the end?” you asked, stretching your legs and snatching the blanket off the floor to fold up; Neil must have put it on you after you dozed off.

“No, we can finish it later,” he decided, walking up to the register, and you groaned.

“Seriously?  Not even falling asleep gets me out of finishing The Man Who Laughs?”

He smiled a little as he started prepping the store for open.  “Nope,” he said proudly, popping his lips on the p sound.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it,” you assured, getting up and trying to ignore the soreness in your back from sleeping on a ratty old sofa all night— you remembered helping Neil carry this thing from where he found it on the side of the road.  Considering you knew where it came from, it was a wonder you ever sat on it, let alone slept on it… but this happened relatively often.  Sometimes it almost felt like you slept easier here or at Neil’s apartment than your own. 

You stood up and stretched your arms, sparing a glance over at him.

“Can I run home and change?” you asked, and he frowned.  

“We open in ten minutes,” he noticed, “you won’t be back in time.”

“Yes, and who will serve the clamoring crowds that await our open outside?” you rolled your eyes, gesturing out the storefront to the abandoned sidewalk.  “You can handle it on your own.”

“Just go to my place,” he shrugged, “it’s closer.  And I think you left some jeans there anyway.”

Right— you’d borrowed a pair of his sweats to get comfy for a movie night, and forgot to take the jeans back when you left.  You yourself had one of Neil’s short-sleeve button-ups at your place, when you’d both changed there for a costume party, but you let him believe it was just lost… it was too late to tell him now that you had it, ‘cause then he might ask why you kept it so long and then he might, somehow, deduce that you had been cuddling it at night from time to time…

“Right, okay,” you nodded, “but I still need a shirt.”

“Just borrow one of mine,” he said, like it was no big deal at all and didn’t make your heart skip.

For a second you wondered if you should protest— if he was still dating Denise, you probably would’ve said something.  But you decided not to say anything, in case he changed his mind; you nearly bolted out of the store and down the two blocks to his apartment.

Your jeans were on the dresser, draped haphazardly in their same just-peeled-off shape you must have left them in last week.  You grumbled to yourself a little about how he could’ve folded them for you so they wouldn’t be wrinkled… but then again, all his jeans were wrinkled, so he clearly didn’t know any better.

And now the fun part: picking a shirt.  You smiled to yourself as you opened the drawer, perusing through t-shirts with old movie posters and semi-witty slogans… cute, sure, but those were pretty similar to what you already wore.  

But the button-downs?  Those were quintessential Neil, and you'd be wasting an opportunity if you didn't put one of those on.

You felt a little giddy as you opened the next drawer down and found them all folded.  The first one you saw had light blue and white stripes, so you snatched it up and slipped it on.

The fit was definitely off, but you let yourself indulge in a fantasy for a moment: waking up here, in Neil's bed… in Neil's arms.  You'd slip on his shirt while you went to find some breakfast, and he'd hum something about how pretty you look in his clothes, and you'd end up tangled in the sheets again not too much later.  

Sighing to yourself, you buttoned the last button, leaving the two at the top undone so you didn't look too formal, and headed back to the store for opening.

Neil stared at you for a second when you walked in— at the shirt, specifically.  You waited for him to say something, but he didn't.  "What, should I not wear this one?" you asked, looking down at it as well, and he shook his head.

"No, no, it's fine— sorry," he mumbled, "just start sorting out last night's returns, please."

You definitely got a much stronger reaction from Jonathan, as soon as he walked in the door.

(Why was he here when he wasn't even working today?  Who knows— he was just always here somehow.)

“Hey!  You look even more like a lesbian than usual,” Jonathan greeted with a peppy fake-smile as he approached you, and you smirked a bit.

“Don’t blame me, it’s his shirt,” you nodded towards Neil.

“See, I told you you dress like a— wait,” Jonathan stopped mid-insult, looking back at you, then at Neil again, then at you; he pointed his fingers at each of you, crossing them back and forth.  “Did… you two…?”

You narrowed your eyes, waiting for him to explain what he meant.

“Did you guys hook up?!” Jonathan accused, wide-eyed.

You felt your face getting warm, and you stammered out your denial; Neil started waving his hands in disagreement as well, but Jonathan was already on a roll.

“Oh my god!” he yelped.  “The one time I miss movie night here and it gets freaky!  Should’ve known better than to leave you two lovebirds alone—”

“Jonathan, we didn’t—” you choked.

“It’s not— it wasn’t—” Neil butted in.  “She just borrowed my shirt!  ‘Cause she— because—”

“I mean, we’ve kinda all been waiting for this to happen— but I never really thought it would,” Jonathan steamrolled along.  “Well, yeah, I guess I thought it would, I just—”

“Wait wait wait, what?” Neil shook his head, stepping up closer to the two of you.  “What does that mean?”

Finally, he seemed to get Jonathan’s attention, who began to nervously backtrack as both of you stared at him.  “W-well, I just mean—” he started.

“And who’s ‘we all’?” Neil noticed.  “This isn’t just you, thinking this?”

“I… I mean,” Jonathan scoffed, “you know— just, just some people… we thought that maybe… that since you two are so close, that you might—”

“Wow,” Neil chuckled, crossing his arms in disappointment.  “You know, that’s so reductive.  For a bunch of progressive, free-thinking hipsters—” he waved his hands as he said it in a mocking way— “you’re really just, like… like… you know, not!  ‘Cause apparently men and women can’t really be friends?”

“No, come on, not like that,” Jonathan denied, “of course we can—”

“I mean, you’re her friend, you’re both single,” Neil noticed, gesturing between the two of you, “why don’t you two, just, you know… hook up!”

You cringed a little as Jonathan tugged at his collar nervously.  “Well, I—”

“Come on, why not?” Neil went on, smiling at the suggestion even though he was clearly unamused.  “I mean, she’s nice, she’s pretty, she’s got a vagina— why don’t you hit on her?”

“Hey, come on, Neil,” Jonathan sighed, “I’m well aware she’s got a vagina—”

“So what’s the problem?” Neil insisted.  “Clearly you can’t just be friends with someone with a vagina—”

“I would really prefer if we didn’t talk about my vagina anymore,” you mumbled nervously.

“— how come you never hit on her, Jonny?” Neil pressed, backing him into a corner metaphorically— but also somewhat literally, he was leaning in and Jonathan was pressing his back more and more against the shelves.

“You really want me to answer that?” Jonathan replied, almost threatening.  That made you furrow your brow a bit.  It seemed like a rhetorical question, Neil trying to prove a point, but you didn’t expect Jonathan to have a literal answer.

“Yeah, sure,” Neil decided, “enlighten us.”

Neil glanced at you, like you were just as gung-ho about this interrogation, but you were feeling a little sick.  You understood the spirit of Neil’s argument— and technically, you agreed with him— but it still stung to see him so incensed at the suggestion of you two together.  You were trying not to take it personally, it wasn’t like he was disgusted by you or anything… he even said just now that you were pretty, and he’d told you that before, but… it still bothered you a little, for reasons you couldn’t quite describe and that you were sure were illogical.

“I never hit on her,” Jonathan answered, lowering his voice, “because I… I figured it would piss you off.”

That seemed to surprise you both, maybe for different reasons; you bit your lip to suppress a smile.  Did Jonathan really think Neil was that protective over you?  “Why would it piss me off?” Neil wondered, but he sounded a little defensive— defensive in a caught-red-handed sort of way.

“I… I don’t know,” Jonathan shrugged.  “That’s just the vibe I got, okay?  That she’s sorta… off-limits.”

Neil hesitated.  “Well… she’s not,” he decided.  “You’re grown-ups.  Whatever you wanna do is none of my business— as long as you’re not being, you know, creepy or an asshole.”

“Of course,” Jonathan agreed, most of the tension settling as Neil backed up a step.

“Okay, well, ask her out then,” Neil instructed firmly.

“I didn’t say I wanted to!” Jonathan sputtered.

“Neil, Jesus!” you complained simultaneously, and he seemed to relent, shrugging as he walked back to the register.

“Sorry, sorry,” he dismissed, “just letting you know it’s… fine with me!”

You rolled your eyes a bit and looked back at Jonathan.  “Sorry,” you offered him quietly, “he’s… I don’t know.  He gets weird about that.”

“Oh really?” Jonathan scoffed sarcastically.  “Didn’t notice.”

“The real reason you shouldn’t be hitting on me is because we’re coworkers, by the way,” you reminded him.

“Hey, I only work here part-time,” Jonathan noticed, “so I think that means it’s cool as long as we only go out part-time.”

You snorted, but he seemed to get nervous.

“You know I’m kidding, right?” he added quickly, and you nodded with a laugh.

~

"You know, I was thinking— we don't have many events at the store these days,” Neil mumbled around a bite of pretzel, watching you play your turn at Skee Ball.  Normally he would put coins in the machine beside yours and try to beat your score, but the other machine was out of order and you decided to take a relay race approach.  “What if we did, like, I don’t know… maybe a double feature for a couple bucks?”

“Neil, we show movies every night,” you sighed, “and we invite everybody, and ninety-nine percent of the time it’s just some combination of me, you, Jonathan, and Lucien.”

“Yeah, but this time we could do movies that more people like— a little easier to watch,” he suggested, “something that would get new people in the store.”

“New people don’t wanna sit on a musty old couch with strangers,” you reminded him, and he nodded as he chewed and swallowed his next bite.

“You’re right,” he agreed, holding the pretzel out towards you.  “Wanna bite?”

You were trying to get through your skee balls pretty quick, so you just leaned your head over and chomped down on the end of one of the twists while he held it for you.  You hummed in appreciation— it was pretty good, fresher than the last one you guys got here.

Visits to the arcade used to be your thing, back in high school (aside from watching movies, but that was a given).  Then you slowed down with the trips, feeling a little old and out of place surrounded by kids— but the problem was, this place wasn’t filled with kids anymore.  It hadn’t changed much at all since you were both in high school, and that was exactly the issue: it was old, run-down, a bit grimey… kids weren’t coming to arcades anymore anyways, they were all on the Internet apparently.  So, while you and Neil sort of appreciated having the place to yourself, it also broke your heart knowing your old haunt couldn’t hold itself together forever… you two visited not just to recapture some old childhood joys, but to try to do your part to keep the business afloat.  

You pretended to like being here— because you really did want to support the place, and Neil wanted to keep coming back— but it actually made you pretty fucking sad.  Surrounded by all the neon, the noisy pinball machines, the Dig Dug machine that had a fifty-fifty chance of stealing your quarters, the photobooth (you still had some strips from that thing pinned to your wall, some so old that they’d faded from the sunlight that came in your window each day); it all felt sort of eerie now.  You would’ve never known all those years ago how little this place would change, even though you never expected it to— you would’ve never known how little anything would change.  Neil was still by your side, but still so far away… if you could talk to that fourteen-year-old girl now, you would warn her that no amount of time spent running around this place and playing Street Fighter was going to make Neil love her, or you.

But here you were anyways.  “Woo!” you cheered when your final score came through: 50,765.  “Beat that!”

Neil set the pretzel down on the bar-height table (on a pile of napkins, don’t worry, neither of you trusted those tables that much) and brushed the salt off his hands with a scoff.  “Oh please, I can beat that with my eyes closed,” he assured as you crossed your arms.

As he put his quarters in and stepped up to the game, you smiled wide.  “Alright, if you say so.”

You came up behind him and covered his eyes with your hands, making him jump and then laugh.  “What are you doing?”

“Just keeping you honest,” you giggled, holding on tight even when he tried to move his head around so that he could see.  

He did his best, usually struggling to even find where the balls were coming down more than rolling them decently— but after the first three went in the gutter without even scoring, you knew he didn’t stand a chance.  He did score a few times, but when the buzzer went off and he lifted your hands from his eyes, he laughed at the pitiful 1,150 on the board.

“Ohh, that’s too bad,” you winced, “guess you’re just full of it.”

Still holding your hands away from his face, he spun around and twirled under your arms like you were dancing for a moment; it ended with him face-to-face with you, swinging your hands back and forth a bit to force you to twist with him slightly.  “Wanna play Street Fighter next?” he suggested quickly.  “I know I can beat you at that.”

The giddy joy of the moment dropped and shattered; if you thought about it too much, you probably could’ve cried right then.  As pathetic, yet oddly aesthetically pleasing, as it would be to cry in an arcade, you swallowed down the emotion and smiled back at him.  “Yeah, okay,” you agreed.

~

You’d been a little antsy all day— Neil seemed to notice, asking a couple times if you were okay, but you just nodded and shrugged it off.  He had a sense for when you were lying; but that’s the thing, you weren’t lying, really.  You just weren’t sure what to say.  You weren’t sure if you should say anything.  And yet, you felt a little guilty not telling him everything that was going on with you— not just guilty, but plain weird.  Because you usually did tell him everything— except, you know, the thing— but you didn’t know if you should talk about this.  Not that you couldn’t— but should you?

So you were sort of gnawing on your lip most of the day, keeping yourself busy with tallying late fees behind the desk, trying to keep conversation light and meaningless: thankfully, in that regard, Jonathan and Lucien made it pretty easy.

“Okay: fuck, marry, kill,” Jonathan began, “Dracula, the Mummy, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon.”

“Dude, I can’t answer that,” Lucien refused.

“Okay, then Neil, what would you do?” Jonathan changed his target.

“Um, well,” Neil pondered, “I think I’d have to kill Dracula— spare the world from that evil, you know— and I guess I’d marry the Mummy—”

“Freud would like to have a word,” Lucien butted in.

“And I’d fuck the Creature from the Black Lagoon,” he concluded, “out of morbid curiosity.”

You snorted, but didn’t look up from your clipboard.  “You come up with one that Lucien will do,” Jonathan challenged Neil.

“Alright, uhh, let’s see…” Neil stalled as he thought, looking up at the ceiling and stroking his chin dramatically.  “Fuck, marry, kill: Sarah Connor, Ripley, and Trinity from Matrix.”

“Okay, see, that’s a real challenge,” Lucien affirmed.  “If I marry Trinity, do I have to live in the post-apocalyptic wasteland or can she live here?”

“You’d have to live in the Matrix,” Jonathan announced, like it was obvious.

“Hm,” Lucien pondered, “do I know it’s a false reality?  Does she know?”

“She knows, you don’t,” Neil decided.

“Is she gonna tell me?  What if she has another guy on the side in the real world?”

“Okay, you’re overthinking this,” Jonathan groaned.

“And is this the Sarah Connor that’s already had John?  ‘Cause if not, I can’t kill her, or the human revolution stands no chance— but if she has him, I can’t marry her, ‘cause I’m not ready to be a stepfather—”

“You’re useless,” Jonathan informed him flatly.

“Well, it’s easy then,” you offered, still tallying fees on the printed table.  “You fuck Connor, marry Ripley and kill Trinity.”

“Yeah, I guess that works,” Lucien shrugged.

“If you’re so good at this game, you should play,” Jonathan decided.  You looked up from your work for once, finding Lucien looking excited at the idea and Neil looking a little nervous but intrigued.

“I’ve got one for you,” Lucien decided, looking concerningly smug.  “Fuck, marry, kill: the three of us.”

Jonathan let out a giddy ‘ooh’ and Neil raised his eyebrows.  “Oh— I don’t know— that’s too weird,” you shook your head, “it’s different, you’re real—”

“Wait, wait,” Neil interrupted, “now I wanna know.”

You froze for a second, wondering if you should double down on not participating, or if you should tell him the first thing that popped in your head: am I allowed to do all three to you?

Instead, you set the clipboard down and crossed your legs, and the men seemed to straighten up as they prepared for your answer.  “Alright,” you said, looking at them for a lingering moment before sighing.  “I think I’d fuck Jonathan, and then kill myself.”

“Yes,” Jonathan hissed, shaking his fist triumphantly.

“Dude, really?” Lucien snapped at him.  “That didn’t sound like a compliment to me.”

“Don’t care, I stopped listening after ‘fuck Jonathan’,” he replied.  “Alright, Neil, you’re gonna have to make good on that ‘she’s not off-limits’ promise you made to me—”

But Neil wasn’t listening to Jonathan, he was still looking at you.  “Wait— you wouldn’t marry me?” Neil interrupted, putting a hand on the desk and leaning in a bit closer— he looked half-amused and half-offended, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Um…” you started to wonder how to defend yourself from that.  What did he expect you to say?  Yes, I’d marry you, I’ve actually been planning our wedding since junior year.

“Hold on,” Lucien stopped you, “if she fucks you and marries you, that means I’m getting killed!”

“Yeah, so?” Jonathan smirked.

“What, you don’t think I’m marriage material?” Neil laughed… but he didn’t seem like he was really joking, per se.  He didn’t seem serious either, of course, but you decided to take his question seriously since he’d dared to ask it twice.

“Well,” you mumbled, “no.  I don’t.”

Then he seemed a bit more serious, adjusting his posture a bit.  “Why not?”

“I mean… you’re my best friend,” you reminded him, “but… you’re not reliable.”

He nodded, pursing his lips together.

“You’re not ready for marriage,” you continued.  “I mean, I think you’re just as sure of that as I am.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And honestly?  You’re a great friend and all, but… if you were my husband, I don’t think I could really… you know, trust you…”

The silence seemed a little heavy— all the men were sort of frozen for a second, you wondered if you should wave your arm around to make sure time hadn’t stopped.  But they did move, Neil first in fact, as he stopped leaning on the counter and nodded a little.

“I’m just surprised that you didn’t fuck Dracula,” Jonathan said to Neil in an attempt to cut the tension, “considering your massive man-crush on Bela Lugosi.”

“Hey, that reminds me, tonight’s movie is Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla,” Neil announced, apparently shaking off whatever odd energy he’d picked up just before, “you in?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jonathan nodded, “should I bring drinks?”

“Uhh, yeah, why not?” Neil agreed. 

“Is a six-pack enough?”

"Uh, maybe…” Neil considered, turning over his shoulder to look at you.  “Kid, how many beers are you gonna want?”

You swallowed nervously.  “Um, I… well, I’m not coming.  I’ve got a date, actually.”

Of course it was just assumed that you would be there; you felt a little guilty admitting you wouldn’t, to the point that you almost considered just skipping said date and staying to avoid the awkwardness.

“Hey, great!” Jonathan said proudly, throwing his arms out wide.

“A date, huh?” Neil noticed, looking happily surprised.  “Sorry, I— I didn’t know— you didn’t say anything—”

“No, it’s cool,” you shook your head, “it’s kind of a last minute thing… you know how they’re showing Rope at the Palace tonight?  I met this, um, this guy the other day and we got to talking, and I asked him if he’d wanna come with me.”

“Rope, wow, that’s a great first date movie,” Neil nodded approvingly, “that sounds perfect.”

“Yeah— he hasn’t seen it, actually,” you admitted, smiling nervously, “so I guess how much he likes it will kinda be a good judge of if he’s worth going out again, right?”

Jonathan nodded approvingly, but Neil seemed skeptical.  "Well, the showing isn't until nine— you can at least hang out until the movie starts, right?"

"I've gotta get home and get changed!" you explained 

"You can't wear that to a date?" Lucien wondered.

"No!" you scoffed, looking down at your ripped jeans and Dracula t-shirt.  "Besides, I have this whole plan of what I'm gonna wear— remember when we did Bonnie and Clyde for Halloween?"

Neil was Bonnie and you were Clyde, in fact; he looked shockingly good in that blood-red lipstick, you tried to convince him to wear it again but he insisted it was a one-night-only situation.  

"I figure if I wear my Clyde suit, I'll look kinda like James Stewart!"

"You're doing drag on a first date?" Lucien pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, lighten up, I'm just dressing up for the movie— I'll still, you know, try to look pretty," you assured.  "What, I don't look good in a suit?  'Cause I got a lot of compliments on Halloween—"

"No, hey, go for it," Jonathan decided, "it's festive!"

"I think it's cool," Neil agreed.  "Have fun, alright?  And if he creeps you out or something, call the store number and I'll come get you."

"I'm not really worried about—"

"You know? Just call the store when you get home," Neil decided, "so I'll know you didn't get murdered."

"Dude, chill," you groaned.  "We're going to the movies, not, I don't know… hiking off-trail in the middle of the night."

You never agreed to call, but you did him one better: you ended up coming back to the video store afterwards, a bit over two hours later.  Of course, the guys were still on the couch— apparently the movie was over but they were watching anime (undoubtedly something Jonathan had brought as a palate cleanser after the movie).

They all looked over at you when you came in the front door and the little bell rang; they seemed excited to see you, and presumably to interrogate you about the date.  You sighed, knowing you couldn't have expected anything else, but you'd come here hoping they'd let you watch something with them so you could stop thinking about the date.

“How’d it go, hot stuff?” Jonathan purred, and you rolled your eyes as Lucien wolf-whistled.

“Oh yeah, it was awesome, best first date ever— I’m at his place having sex with him right now,” you frowned as you tossed your purse down onto the couch, and Lucien chuckled while Neil looked a little defeated.  

“Not that great, huh?” Neil noticed.

“Was he a creep?” Jonathan assumed.

“Did he think the movie was bad?” Lucien pressed.

“No, no, he was great,” you sighed, “he loved the movie.  We talked about it for a bit afterwards and he seemed to really understand it.”

“Okay!  That’s good, right?” Jonathan said optimistically.

“Yeah— so good that I asked him when we could do this again,” you recalled, “and he said that he didn’t wanna lead me on and he wasn’t interested in seeing me.”

“What?!” Jonathan yelped, while Neil winced a little.

“He said I was really cool and funny and easy to talk to,” you explained, “but that he didn’t feel any chemistry.”

“Chemistry?” Lucien repeated, confused.

“He means he’s not attracted to me,” you clarified.

“What?” Jonathan scoffed again.  “Why not?”

“I don’t know!” you whined, but you did know.  “I think I’m just, like, friend material.  I’m just ‘one of the guys’, you know?  Not somebody you actually wanna be with.”

“But isn’t that what every guy wants?  To date somebody who’s just ‘one of the guys’?” Lucien noticed, and then paused when everyone gave him an inquisitive look. “That sounded way less gay in my head.  You get what I mean, right?”

“As much as I would love to never let you live that down,” Jonathan smirked, “you’re not wrong— like, a chick who can hang.  That’s the best.”

“Well, here I am!  Hanging!” you snapped.  “Where’s my harem of suitors just desperate to date one of the guys?!”

“I mean, you are wearing a suit…” Neil noticed, getting a little defensive when you groaned and dropped your head back.  “No, no, you look cool!  I mean, you look really great.  I’m not sure what he wasn’t seeing.”

"Maybe he's got a girlfriend!" Jonathan suggested.  "And he was gonna cheat but he chickened out."

"Maybe he's intimidated by strong women," Lucien added, sounding more like he was quoting a Cosmo than actually thinking that.

"Respectfully, guys aren't that complicated," you assured.  "If he wanted me, he would.  He doesn't.  It's not that deep."

Neil looked away when you said that.

"Well, come take a seat on the losers couch," Jonathan offered, but Neil sitting next to him frowned.

"You think I'm a loser?" Neil protested.

"No, I was talking about that couch," Jonathan said as he pointed to the other one which Lucien was on.

"I'm not even offended," Lucien decided, patting the spot next to him.  "I'd rather be a loser with you than a winner with anybody else."

You smiled and plopped down next to him, pulling your legs up on the old sofa and finding the best angle to see the TV from.  "Okay, catch me up," you requested, bracing for the barrage of borderline nonsensical exposition about whatever obscure anime Jonathan was forcing on the group this time.

~

Since the store closed at eight on Tuesdays, you and Neil decided to go out for a late dinner after locking up— the nearest place you usually walked to was a little hole-in-the-wall dishing out Thai fusion, and even though there were open tables inside, you took your paper boxes outside to eat together on a bench.

You each sat up on it with your legs crossed, facing each other, while he poked at his fried rice with his fork and you stirred your noodles with the chopsticks.

“The Palace is still doing their Hitchcock screenings on Sundays,” you recalled, “I think the next one is Rear Window.  We could make Lucien man the store and go see it together?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” he smiled.  “But we gotta sneak in the candy, that place is getting so overpriced…”

“Well, that’s a given,” you laughed.  “When I went on my date there I had Sour Patch Kids in my bag, but I was kinda craving Reese’s by the time the movie started..."

"That guy sounded like an ass, by the way," Neil announced with a frown.

"Oh, no, it's fine," you dismissed.  "He was really nice, even when he blew me off, and I… I guess I wasn’t really expecting it to go anywhere, anyways.”

“Really?” Neil scoffed.  “Then why’d you ask him out?”

Just in case.  “I… I guess I’m trying to put myself out there more?”

“Huh?  You’re trying to put out more?” Neil joked.

You rolled your eyes and unfolded your legs to kick him playfully.  “You know what I mean,” you groaned.

“Yeah, yeah,” he admitted, “and I support it.  It’s sort of insane that you’re still single.”

“Wow, thanks for the pep talk,” you rolled your eyes before shoving a thick swirl of spicy-sweet noodles in your mouth.

“No!  I mean, like, I can’t believe you’re single,” he clarified, and you smiled somewhat awkwardly while chewing your mouthful.  “You’re smart and fun and cool and pretty—”

Thanks to the food in your mouth, you didn’t have to worry about coming up with a way to respond to that, so you just shrugged.

“Seriously!” he insisted.  “I mean, guys hit on you at the store— I wish somebody who actually deserved your attention would walk in that place.”

The guy I want is already there every day.  Swallowing, you finally got a chance to talk to him again.  “Thanks,” you sighed, “it’s fine, though.  I mean, I’ve been single this long— I think I’ll survive.”

“Keep waiting for the right one, okay?” he encouraged, and your heart swelled.

“I will,” you promised, sounding more wistful than you meant to.

After a brief lull in the conversation, he cleared his throat and continued.  “Hey, um, while we’re on the topic of Sunday, about the whole fuck-marry-kill thing—”

“I’m sorry,” you offered right away, “I shouldn’t have answered that.  I wasn’t being serious, obviously.”

“No, I wanted to apologize,” he returned, “I shouldn’t have pressed you on your answer.  It was funny.  And it wasn’t like you could say you were gonna kill one of us.”

You snorted.  “Yeah, that one was probably the worst of the three.”

“But I shouldn’t have asked you about what you would’ve done to me,” he shook his head, “I was making it weird.  So, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured.  “Did you really expect me to say I would marry you?”

“No,” he admitted, “I thought you’d say you’d fuck me, marry Lucien and kill Jonathan.”

“What?” you scoffed, though you were still smiling.  “Why?”

“Well, Lucien would definitely make the best husband of the three of us,” he explained, “and Jonathan was the only one who wouldn’t have gotten butthurt about you saying you’d kill him.  He probably would’ve just asked you to give him a nice send-off, y’know…”

You nodded in agreement, wondering if he was going to address the obviously missing third piece of all this… he sure was staring down into his empty fried rice container with intense focus…

“And, you know, as for me,” he began sort of thinly, “I, um… I guess I just figured, you know, you’re the most comfortable with me.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “obviously, but maybe that would make it worse?  Like, at least with Jonathan, I know that if we ever did hook up or something, it probably wouldn’t mess up our friendship.  ‘Cause we’re friendly and all, but it’s not so serious.  But with you…”

“Uh huh, well, that’s why it’s good it’s just a game,” Neil finished for you, chucking his trash in the nearest can.  “Don’t have to worry about any of that stuff.  Least of all you and I being married.  Talk about a disaster.”

You choked on your throat.  “Yeah.  No kidding…”

“Well, anyways,” he sighed, standing up from the bench and stretching for a moment, “wanna come over and see if the game’s still on?”

“Oh, um, I’m just gonna go back to my place,” you decided, throwing away the last couple bites of your food on account of your suddenly-lost appetite.  “Kinda thinking I should get my sleep schedule in order.”

“That’s good,” he nodded, “I respect that.  Have a good night, then, kid.”

“Yeah, you too,” you breathed, waving as he turned and walked off into the night, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.  

You looked down at your lap, taking a deep breath and shutting your eyes for a second.  Did he have to be so sweet just to cut you down like that?  Could he have even known how it would hurt you to say that?

It’s not even like he was wrong, but you were dying to ask him why he was so sure that you and him together would be so bad.  What was wrong with you that he still couldn’t see you that way?

Not interested in this repetitive thought cycle anymore, and being very familiar with where it leads, you got up and started to walk down the street.  You didn’t turn to go to your apartment, though; you kept going until you heard live music— scratchy, whiny guitars and throbbing bass drums— seeping out of the club.  You just needed to be somewhere familiar that wasn’t the video store or home; and, this place conveniently also had liquor.

You slipped inside— hit by a wave of sound as you entered— and took a seat at the bar, half-listening to the band that was playing, pretending to be focused at all on what was going on in the outside world rather than just spiraling into your own thoughts inside your head.

“Hey,” Jonathan nodded at you from the other side of the bar, and you nodded back.  He instantly started looking for Neil— of course he would— and you deflated a bit.  “You here alone?” he noticed.

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“Wow,” he smirked, “it’s like when Peter Pan’s shadow escaped.”

You should’ve probably been offended by that, but it wasn’t worth denying— and you were more interested in getting liquored up than justifying that you did, in fact, have a life outside of Neil.

And, actually, Peter Pan was a pretty good way to describe Neil, too.  Fear of commitment, leader of freaks and outcasts, daydreamer… all he needed was some green tights.  “What are you drinking tonight?” Jonathan finally asked.

“What pairs well with feeling completely unattractive and unlovable?” you sighed.

“Well, that would be my drink of choice: whiskey,” he smiled, setting a bottle down in front of you.  “I’ll do a shot with you.”

He poured you both a shot, and you timed it to shoot it back together; he, obviously, took it better than you, and you cringed from the acidic flavor.  "Jesus, people really drink this on purpose?" you grumbled.

"Yeah, give it a few minutes," he assured, "it's gonna numb all those stupid emotions."

"I don't have a few minutes," you sighed, "do you have anything more fast-acting?"

"Yeah— a second shot," he joked, but you nodded in agreement.  "Okay, shit, you're not messing around tonight."

"Nope," you agreed, watching him pour just one shot this time.  "You're not doing it with me?"

"I need to pace myself, I'm here 'til two," he explained.

He slid it to you and you contemplated it for a moment, before forcing yourself to get it down as quickly as possible to avoid the burn.  You still grimaced, but recovered quickly.

"Is it working yet?" he wondered.

"I guess," you answered half-heartedly.

“Well, you could always gush to the bartender about all your problems?” he offered, but you just shrugged it off.  “Come on, you wouldn’t be the first tonight.  And since I know you, I might actually be able to help.”

“I don’t think you can help with this one,” you assured.  “This problem has been going on longer than you’ve been around.”

“Oh?” he pressed.  “Let me guess… boy troubles?”

“Isn’t it always?” you scoffed, irritated that he saw through you that quickly— apparently your reputation of being horrible with men preceded you.

“But this is just one boy,” he presumed.  “One boy who… conspicuously isn’t here tonight…”

“Is it that obvious?” you wondered with a whine, dropping your head in your hand.

“Well, if you weren’t having any issues with him, you’d be with him,” Jonathan guessed— and it wasn’t bad logic.

“But, like, does everyone know?” you wondered.  “Does everyone but him know that I’m in love with him?  Oh god, Jonathan, you don’t think he knows, do you?”

“Wait— love?” he repeated, and you swallowed thickly as you realized the whiskey had already gotten you to say too much.  “You… you’re…”

“Okay, so I guess not everyone knows,” you mumbled.

“No, yeah, I think you managed to keep that under wraps,” he assured with a nod, eyes getting wider.  “Sheesh.  No, I had no clue.  Now it’s even weirder that you guys aren’t together.”

“Well, he doesn’t love me,” you explained flatly.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, god no— I mean, he tells me he loves me,” you corrected, “but he doesn’t mean— we just say that, you know, like at the end of phone calls or when one of us is sad.  It’s not, like… we never meant it that way.”

“Right, okay,” Jonathan nodded as he wiped a glass— the way bartenders do when they’re listening to people— but he didn’t seem to understand entirely.  “So, you’re not his type?”

“I don’t think I know what his type is,” you scoffed.  “I haven’t really noticed a pattern, have you?”

“You’d have to have a few more data points to really draw any connection between them,” Jonathan laughed.

“Yeah, fair,” you smiled, “he’s only had… I don’t know, maybe four girlfriends since I’ve known him?  One in high school, for a month— then Eva, they weren’t even really serious, just dating for a while.  And then, uh—”

“Tanisha,” he remembered.

“Right!  I liked her,” you hummed.

“What happened to her again?” he wondered.

“Got back with her ex,” you recalled.

“Wow, that blows,” Jonathan sighed.  

“She told me before she told him,” you admitted.  “She wanted me to tell him for her, actually, but I… I couldn’t do that to him.  But I came over right after, you know, and we ate ice cream from the tub and watched movies ‘til we fell asleep.”

Jonathan made a sort of face, one you couldn’t quite interpret, and you tilted your head as he seemed to mumble to himself.  

“What?” you wondered.

“Nothing, it’s just… he’s kind of an idiot,” Jonathan decided.  “I don’t think he gets how lucky he is.”

You wrinkled your brows together, laughing a bit.  “What do you mean?”

“Look, I’m not saying he’s, like, legally obligated to fall in love with you just because you guys get along so well,” he clarified, “even if that’s what Neil accused me of thinking— I really do think it’s fine for men and women to just be friends.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“I’m just saying… like, how do you have someone who cares about you that much, and you end up dating fucking Denise for almost a year?!”

“Well, nobody knows how he ended up with Denise,” you coughed.  “That was a fucking disaster.”

“I mean, not to be crass, but, uh,” he stumbled a little over his words, “I’m surprised that you coming over after that breakup didn’t turn into a rebound, at least.”

“After eating that much ice cream?” you laughed.  “That would’ve been awful.”

“But really, though,” he insisted.  “I have a hard time believing the thought didn’t even cross his mind…”

“I can’t really be sure that it didn’t,” you admitted, “I’m just saying, nothing happened.”

“I guess he’s just known you too long to go for it with you,” Jonathan shrugged.

“It’s not just that— you know Neil, he’s kind of an adrenaline junkie,” you rolled your eyes, “or at least he thinks he is.  He wants adventure, I guess— and he always talks about us doing spontaneous stuff but it never happens— and I’m just too familiar.  Too comfortable.”

“Yeah, he does kinda have something against stability,” Jonathan agreed, “do you think it’s a divorced parents thing?”

“I don’t know, I stopped analyzing that a long time ago,” you groaned, “and I told myself I would stop trying to be what I thought he wanted, but I think I keep doing it.”

“Well, I know you know him better than anybody,” Jonathan countered, “but I know guys, and that guy… there’s no way he thinks of you as just a friend.”

“Why do you think that?” 

“Because he was fucking lying when he said it wouldn’t piss him off if we hooked up,” he insisted.

“You really won’t let that go, will you?” you grinned.

“Did you see his face?  He couldn’t get the image out of his head!” Jonathan assured confidently.  “And then that whole ‘fuck marry kill’ thing— he started getting nervous, I think.”

“Nervous about what?”

“That something could really happen with us!”

“You really think he would care?” you frowned.

“I swear to— to Ash Williams,” he decided, “that if I walked into that fucking video store, and told him that you and I did whiskey shots and you came back to my place and we did the horizontal tango, he would beat me to death with the register.”

“You swear on Ash Williams?” you repeated with a smirk, knowing that meant more than swearing on any deity would mean.

“Him and his chainsaw hand,” Jonathan assured, putting a hand over his heart to add to the bit, and you giggled.

“Well, I don’t think Neil can pick up the register,” you decided.

“In that case, you let me know the next time you wanna get back at him for something,” he offered with a wink, and you smiled at him sympathetically.

“I know you’re trying to be nice,” you sighed, “but you don’t have to do that.”

“Hey, come on,” he frowned, “I know you’ve got this I’m insecure I’m a weirdo nobody notices me thing, but you can’t actually think it would be some kind of charity work for me to sleep with you—”

“No, I don’t mean that,” you sighed, “I know I could get laid if I wanted to—”

“But you don’t wanna get laid,” he finished for you, “you wanna be loved.”

You sighed again, even harder.  “Yeah,” you nodded.

“I know,” he agreed.  “And you know I love you, but—”

“But not like that,” you took your turn finishing his sentence.

His only reply was raising the bottle of whiskey with a sideways smile, a silent offer to pour another shot— for both of you this time.

“Yes, please,” you hummed, watching him fill the miniature glasses with a sigh.

part 2

[kingconia]

TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS WITH MC, WHO IS MUCH WORSE THAN THEM

(Aka. In their ’signature’ character trait.)

A/N: Idia was left out, because this author had no idea how to write his part.

Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️

— It is not a secret that Riddle might appear a little bit obsessed, when it comes to rules. He knows all of them, and he merely can't understand how others can be so careless!

— And since no one learned them, excluding him, they trusted with each word he said. Mostly, Riddle said truth, following the codex precisely;

— But, oh, he is still a human. Sometimes, he can make mistakes or confuse things...

— That is why, when a new student of his suddenly stood up to point out at his mistake, Riddle doesn't even know what to do: be happy that there is someone else like him, or get annoyed for a necessity to admit his wrong?

•

”Hmph, how dare you call yourself a housewarden of Heartslabyul, when you can't follow elemental rules?”

As other students gasp, shocked by this kind of braveness, Riddle feels his cheek heating. Either from anger or from a strict gaze of yours, that reminds him much of his mother.

”You said that the ’only ever drink tea with slice of lemon on even thursdays’ rule is under 53 number,” you repeat, with hands on the tips, and with no care to Trey, who tries to stop you.

”That, I did,” regaining his coldness, Riddle admits.

Truth to be told, he sensed that he made some kind of mistake with this one. But recently he had been more tired than usual, and it is not like someone else know those rules but him, right?

Right?

”Well," you huff. ”It is under number 35.”

Oh.

”I...” Riddle tries to ignore others eyes on him, fingers digging in the fabric of his pants.

He fights an urge to lie about checking other students, instead of admitting his fault. You don't give him time for any of that.

”Well, keep that in mind then,” you say. ”I expect my housewarden to respect our dorm rules, after all.”

With that, you merely leave.

Riddle has a very mixed feelings about this encounter...

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— When headmaster Crowley stops him not for yelling at him for missed lessons, but to speak of another troublemaker from Savanaclaw, Leona is caught off guard;

— It appears, a new freshmen, gained a quite awful reputation. You seem to be sleeping all the time—you did, in the ceremony; and you do, if you appear on lectures, though, mostly, you don't at all—and the only good thing about you is your surprisingly high grades;

— Truth to be told, Leona is just amused by that. All those warnings some pretty familiar, so, he decides to see you himself;

— Of course, Leona couldn't expect you to be so familiarly annoying!

•

”Shit,” you yawn, a frown touching your face instantly. ”Dude, you must have a really good reason to wake me up.”

Leona blinks; his curiosity changing with irritation quickly as he hears you speaking so carelessly, while stretching under the tree, not even standing up to meet him properly.

”Oi, brat, pay some respect to your housewarden!” He hisses. ”Perhaps, you are forgetting who are you speaking with?”

”Leona-sama,” you sigh tiredly, not impressed by his answer, ”I can't pay respect to someone, who thinks that distracting me from my power nap, is fine.”

Leona is speechless. Mostly, because he doesn't know how to argue about this—he agrees that sleep is more important than anyone or anything in this school, after all. But the amount of disrespect...

”Do you have an idea of your reputation? Headmaster plans to expel you from the school if you continue like this.

Leona internally cringes from these words.

”Sure,” you hum lazily. ”Good luck with throwing off the best first-year student, just because they find those lectures boring.”

Leona can't even answer to you properly. You just fall asleep as soon as you stop speaking, with your tail wrapping around your legs peacefully. At least, he understands Ruggie now...

Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵

— Azul makes a quick background check on all of his students, of course. For safety reasons. More or less;

— So, he is surprised, when one of the freshman, who happens to be you, is too secretive. Azul can't find anything on you at all, even the smallest piece of information, and so, he gets curious;

— His first plan—to get twins stalker on you—fails, when you catch them in the action, somehow. Even worse, you somehow make a pact with them, which stops them from trying to dig in your past more...

— Your next step is to send Azul invitation for a little friendly lunch in the Monster Lounge. Sadly, when he agreed, he couldn't know that was expecting him here...

•

”I am failing to understand a purpose of our meeting,” Azul locks his hands together, staring at you without even blinking.

You make another sip of the apple juice you ordered, lips stretching in a soft smile.

”I am here to offer you a pact, Azul-sama.”

Azul almost bursts in the laughter. Who do you think you are, making this bold offer, going against him? What an amusement.

”Oh? Surprise me, then.”

”As far as I know, you spent last three weeks, trying to gain a little information about me. But, oh, all for nothing. Just as I tried to find an answer for a few questions considering you and the Monster Lounge, and failed... So, what I am proposing, is to exchange our secrets mutually,” you wink. ”What do you think?”

How stupid of you to think that he will agree on something like this!

”And why would I want to make a pact with you?”

Suddenly, you search for something in the inner pocket of your jacket. And as you find some envelope, you offer it to him.

”Because you don't want this to get leaked, perhaps?”

It takes a few minutes from him to process what is inside, but when he does, colours leave his face instantly.

”Y-you—”

How did you?..

”It is a deal, then.” You laugh.

Azul hates how there is nothing he can say to you...

Kalim Al-Asim. 🧡

— Kalim tries to befriend each student of his house naturally! But, sometimes, others don't want to return his sentiment as he is too loud and too naive for them, so they avoid him or offer a fake sympathy;

— So, when one of the students rushes to befriend him first, smiling widely as they met their old friend, Kalim is very, very happy!

— You match instantly, your undying energy and enthusiasm about everything bringing you close as soon as you start speaking;

— Even better, you take him seriously, too. It is something other do rarely, seeming him stupid and air-headed, but you know that is more than that. It goes in both way, after all.

•

”I... I must admit, I am very happy to be your friend,” you muse softly, back pressing to the carpet as both of you taking your short flight around the school. ”I think, I annoy a lot of people here... But I am not annoying you, am I?”

Kalim looks surprised with this question—after all, you knew him better than anyone!—as he rushes to shake his head in denial.

”No, no! You would never.”

You hum, turning on your stomach slowly. Head pressed on your crossed hands, you nod at him.

”That's good. Thank you.... And, Kalim?”

”Yes?” He asks, mirroring your pose, your shoulders pressing together.

”I think you are amazing housewarden, too. Don't allow anyone think otherwise.”

Before you manage to understand, Kalim is already tucking you on the back, to hug rightly. Just how you always know what to say to him, or how to make him happy?

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— Everyone knows that despite his tight schedule, Vil always checks on all of his students, so they could fit standards of their dorm;

— He takes more time to deal with new students, though. Most of them are still not aware of Pomefiore rules and expectations, so, he needs to speak with all of them individually;

— So, Vil is slightly taken aback, when someone is already instructing new students before him. He watches as you explain others common rules, while giving them random advice on how to enhance their skin and hair routine, basing on different problems and offering interesting solutions, curiously:

— Of course, Vil can't wait to speak with you personally!

•

”Y/n Y/s, right?” You pause your speeches, nodding at Vil, who just entered the room. ”I had been watching you for a while, and, I must say, you have impressive qualities. And style, too.”

Vil partly expects you to become all shy over his compliment—that is what happens usually, at least—but, instead, you became even more serious than before.

”I appreciate that, but I believe my wish to help other classmates is partly selfish. And selfishness shouldn't be praised.”

It is not what he thought he will hear.

”And how so?” He asks with unhidden curiousity.

”I strive for perfection, and perfection can only be achieved by the hard work,” you punctuate firmly, raising your chin higher. ”But I also believe that your surroundings should fit you—and so, my dorm, classmates, and housewarden should meet my expectation for myself, too. Therefore, I need to guide them in perfection alone with myself.”

Ah.

Vil can't help but smirk. What an absolute pleasure to speak with someone, who knows what they are doing, who has right morals!

”Well, well,” he folds arm on his chest. ”I can't wait to see more of your hard work, then.”

”I would never disappoint.”

But as the conversation is finished, Vil already knows who is going to be the next housewarden, when he leaves.

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— When Lilia tells him that they now have another half-dragon creature in the Diasomnia, Malleus is partly curious. It is a rare thing to have someone of his own kind, after all;

— But, of course, Malleus can't just walk to you and start a conversation. Instead, he tries to see you more often; in school or corridors;

— It doesn't give him much. You seem very cold, and other classmates ignore your presence constantly, though, you don't seem to be interested in them, either;

— He finally has a chance to speak with you personally, when he finds you walking around gargoyles in the evening, though.

•

”Malleus-sama,” you bow your head, noticing his presence even earlier than he announces it. ”Good evening. How this one can help you?”

”Y/n,” he slightly nods, examining you closer. ”If I am not mistaken, there is party for the first-years in the school. Why are you here?”

Malleus can't help but notice hints of confusion, raising in your eyes, before you cover it with the usual stoic expression of yours. With a quiet sigh, you start petting the statute affectionately, much like an animal.

”Is that so? I am afraid, I wasn't invited, then.”

He rewards you with sympathetic look.

”I see,” he adds, awkwardly: ”I am sorry to hear that.”

”Oh, no time for regrets,” your fangs bare in a smile. ”Actually... Malleus-sama, I planned to ask you something for a while, but never had a chance to speak with you before. Can I?”

”Of course.”

”Headmaster told me, that you are leading the club of the researches that are dedicated to gargoyles... And so, I wanted to know what I need to join it. You see...”

As you start rumbling about the importance of gargoyles, Malleus can't help but wonder why he saw you as someone cold before. Was it something others thought of him, judging by short glimpses of his attitude in school?

But it doesn't matter anymore. He thinks, your company is very enjoyable, after all.

[harunayuuka2060]

Ace: Serious question. How did MC win you all over?

Deuce: *nods* We are really curious!

Epel: Yes! Please enlighten us, Mammon-sir!

Levi: 'Sir'?

Mammon: Ha! Be jealous, Levi. These are my minions.

Levi: *rolls his eyes*

Barbatos: If you want answers, it's better to ask the point of view of the outsiders.

Simeon: Um... Outsiders?

Solomon: We're not outsiders, Barbatos.

Lucifer: Answer his question then, Barbatos.

Barbatos: ...

Luke: I'll answer that question because I'm sure these demons will try to bend the truth!

Luke: All of these demons, except Barbatos-

Belphie: Don't exempt your father-figure.

Luke: H-He's not my father figure! *clears throat* All these demons tried to corrupt MC, but they all failed! *beams* MC is a strong human! And, and! They are loved by all creatures!

Satan: Except some of us tried to kill them first.

Beel: Raise the hands of those who never hurt them. *puts his hand up*

Mammon: *joining him*

Ace: I- Bruh.

Epel: MC is the embodiment of 'I can fix you.' Literally.

Deuce: *nods in agreement*

Belphie: Well... You could say that they're really unique. Or maybe because they're a distant descendant of our dead sister Lilith.

Ace: What did you say?

Epel: So all of you are-

Simeon: No. I assure you, that isn't the case at all.

Ace: But that's wild, man.

Solomon: *chuckles* Right? That's why no one should ever underestimate MC.

Lucifer: Speaking of them, where are they?

Solomon: They're together with Asmo and Vil. They mentioned visiting a spa place.

Lucifer: I see.

Barbatos: Disappointed they didn't invite you?

Lucifer: Don't be ridiculous, Barbatos.

Diavolo: I am disappointed they didn't invite me.

Lucifer: ...

Vil: Potato, why are you the one massaging Asmodeus?

Asmo: This is our bond, hun~ And it's been a while since MC touched my body like this~.

Vil: *frowns* They are here to relax.

Asmo: I'll give them a massage too later~. Right, darling~?

Vil: ...

MC: Haha, maybe next time when it's just the two of us.

Asmo: Kyaa~! Does that mean you want us to do more~?

Vil: *cringes* Potato, I can't believe you love someone like him.

MC: *chuckles* Well, no one can resist Asmo.

Asmo: That's right~. Since I'm the prettiest in every realm~. No one can compare to my beauty~.

Vil: Excuse me? You are forgetting that I exist.

Asmo: No offense, hun. But you don't hold a candle to me.

Vil: ...

Vil: *smirks* I'm sure Potato will disagree on that.

Asmo: What?

MC: ...

MC: I'm just an ugly person, don't include me in this.

MC: *sigh* *just got home after they managed to stop Vil and Asmo from fighting*

Leona: You look exhausted, Herbivore.

MC: Yeah.

Leona: ...

Leona: *smirks* Want us to cuddle with you?

MC: Huh?

Belphie: *shows up, already sitting next to MC* You need some rest. Let us take care of you.

MC: ...

MC: I'm not surprised if you're going to do that for me, Belphie. But Leona?

Leona: Hey, we're friends.

MC: ...

MC: Fine. I'll accept that excuse for now.

[mirza-majoris]

Weeeeeell guess I'm back into my Gravity Falls phase soooo it's just a very silly little thing but damn I had fun doing it and it was keeping me away from anxiety and school stuff X'3

Anyway, cringe incoming !

( And sorry for the formatting, I'm doing this on my phone and I'm zero at making the pictures stay steady and normal >< )

The audio is a little montage from the english sitcom "Vicious", and since I now look at it I'll write down what is written because I realise I didn't know how to manage the size of the writing ahah ><

👇👇👇

*Everyone playing truth or dare at the Shack*

Bill : Oh, I've got a good question! Tell us Stanley, have you ever had sex with a man ?

Stanley : ..... can I change my go to "dare" ?

Bill : No~ You have to answer the question~

Ford : What the hell are you stalling for, Stanley ? The only man you ever shared a bedroom with was me when we were kids.

Stanley : *F*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck, he's gonna kill me, don't say it, don't say it*

Ford : *Maybe the question is a sensitive topic... I should help him against Bill's tricky game* I'll answer for him. No.

Stanley : .... Yes. I have.

Ford : *he's like "wait, does he like women AND men ? Was my brother bi the whole time ?!"* I don't believe you !

Stanley : It's true !

Ford : you're lying-

Fiddleford : No he isn't.

Ford : *non verbal communication with his former muse : "Happy now ?"*

Bill : *Non verbal communication with his ex wife : "I didn't know it would be your ex assistant !"*

Ford : ... and how would YOU know ?

Stanley : *dying on the inside, non verbal communication with his... whatever these two had ? : "shut it shut it shut it shut it-"*

Fiddleford : Because it was with me.

*Awkward sibling moment*

Stanley : *chuckling awkwardly* Guess you should've taken better care of your man, Sixer, ahah-

Bill : *wheeze in Cipher* well I guess Stanley was right. There WAS something knew to learn about each other !

Stanley : well I don't see why you're getting so upset, it was ages ago ! We were both young and attractive... *yes, that hilly billy was nice-looking in the 80s*

Ford : *is surprisingly upset about the fact that his brother had a thing with his best friend*

Stanley : look, you just disappeared into that big portal... Fidds was alone -and a mess because he clearly had a big crush on you-... And it was only one night.

Fiddleford : Two nights.

Stanley : ..... ...... ..... Why is your memory so vivid all of the sudden ?

Fiddleford : *staring at Ford : "That's what you get for leaving me for a triangle, Stanford Pines"*

[chokchokk]

𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎-𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 | jung wooyoung x fem!reader

a one-sided (best) friends one night!wooyoung one-shot

“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒�� : At least the car didn’t fall and crash, right? That’s what Wooyoung wants to believe.

"Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you."

[ now playing : " bonnie & clyde " ▸ dean ]

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : angst, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 3.2k

spotify link | series masterlist link

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜) : unreciprocated romantic feelings, sexual tension, best friends hooking up, one-night-stand, cabriolet-driving at night, open roof, illegal parking, making out, car sex; wooyoung masturbates to you, wooyoung’s present perspective/narrative, he's so horny and so in love, interactive?, at least quite confrontational

masterlist link | join my taglist

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : aight um... i wrote this? in one heart-breakingly missing my hubba bubba daddy dean hours session. i skipped over the second verse out of length and plot purposes + the translations provided are like 80% mine and if not then from genius <33

always grateful for for your likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo!!!

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : @r1kitti : @sanniesbunnie : @northerngalxy @sanwhalvr : @revehosh : @fandems

He looked at you, even though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't.

Right now, right now Could I tell you right now?

His eyes should have been on the road, his hands should have been on the steering wheel, and haha, his thoughts should have definitely been about your safety and not about how he wanted to either drive off a cliff or tear the clothes off your amazing fucking body, but you picked the second choice yourself anyway, didn’t you? Just getting that shirt off like it’s nothing, revealing yourself like it’s nothing, but… God, Y/N, you are everything to him, he had no other choice.

아직까지 깨어있니? 오늘 너의 하루는 어땠니? 아무 일도 없긴 뭐가 없어

(Are you still awake? ; How was your day today? What do you mean, 'nothing happened'?)

Wooyoung wants it to be your fault. Wants it to be your fault that when you called him, his brain was filled with the image of you swimming in the ocean in that thing of a bikini that you wore to make your ex jealous even if he was not present on any day during the vacation except in your head, and he desperately wants it to be your fault that, after you had disappeared with some dumb-fucking rando from the beach-bar for the evening, Wooyoung scoffed in malicious glee that you let him know it hadn’t led to anything, grabbing his keys immediately to pick you up from the place you didn't find luck at.

What he’s trying to say is that you’re really in luck he didn’t grab that liquor that night. 

가끔은 외면하려 해도 꽤 쉽지만은 않은 게 있어 I know 다 안다고

(I try to look away sometimes, but there are just some things that aren’t that easy, I know; I know it all)

But maybe being sober was the worst part.

He hid it well, Wooyoung thinks, or you were just too drunk to care, when you caught his curious gaze through the window, with your tits still sitting safely in the bra, your shirt already thrown out of the cabriolet.

“Woo!”, you laughed, and he can still hear the tenderness of your voice vividly, “eyes on the road~”

“Your tits looked bigger than I remember,” was his immediate answer, and your giggle was worth the cringe, “had to double-check.”

The last time he saw them was, what, middle-school truth or dare? Of course they grew since then, you were explaining in drunkenness and looked at your own set of boobs, while pushing them together, mumbling something about puberty, hormones and horny teenagers, but somehow finishing it off with, “Best friends bonding session!”

And Wooyoung is still puzzled about that.

내 앞에서 아닌 척 해도

(Even though in front of me, you pretend you don't)

Well, he grinned when you said it, but for no other reason that wasn’t just you looking so lovable under the moonlight, with your eyes sparkling with glee, and not because he found any sense in, god, whatever it means, “best friends bonding.”

“Bonding”? Sure. Seeing your tits had removed some boundaries— and in retrospect, mentioning that incident again must have been another little tease of yours, but be really honest for a second.

There are just some things “best friends” shouldn’t do.

… Shouldn’t have done, that is.

Bonnie and clyde, bonnie and clyde, one night

The nightly winds were hitting your open arms with you laughing full of life, when Wooyoung finally opened the roof for you. You’d been dying to do it, he had seen it by how you kept leaning outside the open window to feel the speed of the car hit your face, but he didn’t want to not see it. At least he still hates that he doesn’t know the expression you were wearing while you let out the most freeing, revivifying, crystal clear cheer.

He wants to believe that your cheeks were rosy, your eyes shiny, and that your lips were curled up into a smile, as you inhaled again and laughed all by yourself, watching the trees and mountains of the city pass by and draw long, ghostly trails from how fast the vehicle was moving.

It was extremely dangerous, all of it.

Who cares, who cares

The way Wooyoung drove without looking at the speed dial? God, so dangerous, but what’s way more dangerous is the way you became silent, and made him curious, made him believe that there were stars in the sky or something— and he thinks he’s still in the right for thinking that— and made him glance up to you.

Fuck, do you even know how hot you looked when you started to touch yourself down your bust? You probably don’t. You were feeling the textile of the lingerie scratch your fingers, warming your skin under the cold breezes, but when you cupped that perfect tit of yours, you threw your head back and fuck, he thinks if you had seen him you would think he was a pervert, and maybe he fucking is, because Wooyoung was definitely thinking the most perverted things he could do in that moment, all including his mouth, his fingers, his panging cock; Good fucking god, Y/N, you had his mind scorching, it only needed a little more spark and he would have exploded, right here and there.

친구 사이 친구 사이 alright

(Just friends, just friends alright)

So of course he tried to keep it cool as possible. Rested one hand relaxedly on the gear, the other on the steering wheel, and attempted to stare blankly to the front. Wooyoung ignored how you were arching your back to match the flow of how the air brushed against your ribs, tried to ignore how you let your fingertips disappear under the bra, and failed to not think about how delicious your nipple would taste between his lips.

친구 사이 친구 사이 alright

(Just friends, just friends alright)

He couldn’t take it anymore–  not being on you, in you, with you– and that’s why he said something.

“What do you think you’re doing there, bestie?”, Wooyoung remembers jokingly scoffing, driving into the highway so he didn’t have to think about the road too much, to give himself more time to admire the sexy body that you were touching.

“Nuthin~”, you lulled and he realizes now that Wooyoung had forgotten how drunk you’d been. Such a dumbass to think you were doing it all on purpose, isn’t he? You make him so fucking stupid.

“The guy really left you on the hook, huh?”, he spat, fingers gripping the wheel.

“Fuckin’ asshole left me so needy~”, you whined and maybe you tugged your own nipple or something, but he couldn’t have overhead that whiny, melodic moan that left your mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm~”

Who cares, who cares

What would you have done in his position? 

That’s the thing Wooyoung is most curious about. If it had been him drunk in your cabriolet, feeling down his, whatever, his cock, wouldn’t you have offered a helping hand, too? Because you’re a good friend like that?

He will never know the answer.

도망가 도망가 너와 난

(Escape, escape, you and I)

Wooyoung drove faster to make you come down, he won’t even try to deny that.

With a loud, brutal vroom, he drove the last mile with so many thoughts pinging inside his mind, with you continuing to give yourself goosebumps all over your skin, admiring how the hairs on your body went up over your own touch— knowing that it could be him doing that made Wooyoung grow desperate.

“Why did you stop? Where are we?”, you asked, and Wooyoung remains having no idea. Just somewhere in the middle of the highway, with cicadas chirping and filling out the silence that followed after he turned off the car motor, the roof above you closing down. A few miles away, there would have been a legal parking spot waiting for him, but Wooyoung immediately unbuckled his seatbelt, so it’s safe to say he didn’t give a fuck.

“Still needy, bestie?”

Who cares, who cares

God, you were so needy. It’s like you didn’t wait a second to question him or get any reassurance that this was what had been on his mind, because maybe you had already seen his bulge to know he was needy too, or maybe— and this is what Wooyoung would like to believe— you just wanted him that much.

Fuck, cut him some slack, okay? Wooyoung was just that surprised to find you crawling over to his driver’s seat, planting your ass immediately where he needed it the most. It was fucking magical, the friction of your body grinded over his erection was making him grunt and grope your ass cheeks.

“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”, you giggled, getting your hands behind his neck, driving yourself into his hard-on that he didn’t know could get even harder. It extended painfully under his belt, but fortunately, you were too much in heat to let him wait any longer.

Till we die, till we die

“Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” Wooyoung cackled, and he still grins recalling how your gasp whirrs in his hazy memories.

It all feels so washed out, your impatient fingers unbuckling his belt, as Wooyoung bent the seat to the back, letting his head fall to his neck, as you got your lips pressed against his– just a lot of movements, a lot of feelings mixing up together, slurred into a motion of two people trying to have a fulfilling night.

Oh 너와 나의 마지막 일지라도

(Oh, even if this means our end)

Was it fulfilling to finally get a taste of your sweet saliva, your honeyed whimpers, when he grabbed you by your tits to prepare for sucking them numb? He doesn’t know it yet, but Wooyoung definitely can’t ignore how hard his cock has become in his boxer shorts to the memory of you looking down at him in awe, caressing his cheek, as he enveloped your perky tit with his mouth, immediately running his tongue over your sensitive nipple.

그럴지라도

(Even if)

The sounds, Y/N, your fucking sounds. Sounds Wooyoung thought he would never hear in his entire life, but definitely wished to hear once at least— and of course he’d be a fool to say he got enough of them, but making you whimper “Woo, fuck, please,” as he got his hand into panties and made you grind on his finger, and then hearing how your cunt squelched when you lowered yourself on it, is enough to make him cum tonight.

His hand is wrapped around his cock, face planted into his pillow so he can somehow simulate how it felt like being suffocated by your tits, Wooyoung recalls how tightly you clenched around his fingers, how wet you were, wet for him, just so fucking needy for your best friend, rutting your hips so his fingertip could graze your sweetest spot over and over again, moaning out “Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung,” over and over again.

Would you remember me?

“Y/N,” he growls, and it feels embarrassing to do so, but Wooyoung can’t help himself, he’s becoming delirious because of you, the seam of his shirt becoming absolutely soaked in his mouth, as he bites into it. “God, fuck, Y/N,” he lisps again, thrusting into his hand in the same way he thrusted into you, right after you were trembling around his fingers, whimpering out your first orgasm but not being satiated. 

Nah, nah, I'm just…

“You’re so fucking big,” is what you’d moaned out to boost his ego, but maybe it’s true, because Wooyoung does indeed feel quite big in his grip right now, craving your tight cunt, craving how it clutched around his girth, how hot and wet it felt like, when he fucked your eyes to roll behind your head, your spit glistening on your tongue, as your mouth fell open to never be closed again.

Alright 틀린 선택일지라도

(Alright, even if this is the wrong choice)

“Feels so fucking good, huh? Better than your dumb fucking ex?” 

“Yes, so so much fucking better than his dumb cock, Woo, please don’t stop!”

And maybe that was the moment. The moment his head snapped, when it all fractured, his feelings, his five years of pining, watching you be with some dumb fucking pricks, when he, Wooyoung, your “best friend”, could treat you so much better. 

With your hands taking off his hoodie, as he pistoned his hips into you, your warm sweat dripped onto his torso, and it felt like all the tears he’d shed for you had been worth it.

Alright 결국 후회할지라도

(Alright, even if we regret it after)

It didn’t matter how many tears he’d shed after, because the tears that flowed down your soft cheeks that night, with you weeping “make me cum, Woo, please make me cum so hard,” like he was pulling you by a string to mewl out words for him that still make his cock twitch, were precious droplets of your pleasure. And he’d do anything for it.

“Yeah?”, Wooyoung snickered, breathing into your face with a grin, feeling like he was owning the world by making you dumb on his dick, “You love my fucking cock, Y/N? You love your best friend’s cock?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whined out, bouncing desperately over his hips that it was leaving your ass red, “I love your cock, Woo, I love it so, so, so fucking much!”

But somehow, you didn’t love it enough.

Oh baby Oh 널 울린 그 놈에게로 baby

(Oh baby Oh, even if you return to the guy who made you cry)

Wooyoung doesn’t want to think about it and just rut his pelvis into his hand so he can cum and unload in peace, but the thought of you being in his arms again, being used by your stupid fucking ex like a toy probably right fucking now, just makes him more aggressive, greedier, furious.

“Really? You love my cock, Y/N? You really love it?”

“Y-yes, W- Woo,” you moaned out, shakily, when he roughly pushed you over, your back landing on the steering wheel, a loud honk echoing through the empty streets. After Wooyoung’s eyes sunk in an angry, deep-seated red, it confused you, almost sobered you up, but of course you would turn sex-drunk in the matter of seconds, as he began to pound into you as if he was on a mission— a mission to make you remember.

Oh 이미 결과는 내 손을 떠났어 bang bang! (Oh, the result has been out of my hands anyways, bang bang!)

He could never cum like he did that night. It was raw, vulgar, dirty, filthy, absolutely pornographic how Wooyoung drove himself into you, moaning, grunting, breathing into your ear and sucking hickeys into your neck at every inch he got the chance to, so even if you’d wake up with the most hefty blackout, you could see what your best friend made of you in the mirror.

Just marks and signs of his infatuation all over your gorgeous body, and Wooyoung feels his jaw hurt, as he realizes how long he’s been biting down his shirt for imagining your love-bite bedecked breasts— Way too long, Y/N, way too fucking long.

Right now, right now Where you at right now

Five years, no, he counts a total of almost ten years of friendship with a sweet girl who remained fun and cheery, and then meeting her again as a woman who let herself be tossed around by some bastards because you don’t know what you’re worth, at least not worth to him. 

Wooyoung felt rich with you. He felt like he had everything, when you wrapped your arms around him, once he’d unloaded his hot cum inside you with a moan that was lost immediately in the steamy, hot space of his car, and kissed him, kissed Wooyoung on the lips, just because you, well, felt like doing it? Everything.

“I love you, Woo…”

Where am I right now Girl

He’s so pathetic for thinking that you meant it.

I want, want you to know Babe I want you to know

“I love you too, Y/N.”

How much I love you How much I need you

But Wooyoung doesn’t stop. 

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

He doesn’t stop tensing his abdomen to his own touch, he’s given up on thrusting into his hand because it could never, ever feel like you, and Wooyoung spits into his hand again to somehow make him believe he’s being fucked by your wet cunt again.

How much I love you How much I need you

Wooyoung repeats it over and over again in his head, your voice, your words, “I love it,” “I love you, Woo,” and before he can feel his heart drop, his hand accelerates, running and speeding over his shaft and his eyes close down into a tight squeeze, cum spurting out his needy cock.

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

The car still smelled of your sweet sweat, when he drove you to your place, lending you his hoodie because you, silly Y/N, had thrown your shirt out the window– and Wooyoung had sat there for a while, on his seat, staring into the the horn he had you pressed against, had you moaning his name his name against, had you cum, had you love him against.

How much I love you How much I need you

It’s sobering, yeah, that’s the word. 

Wooyoung being the only one to see through your lies the second they leave your mouth, and while he knows that “I love you, Woo” had been the truth, “yeah, it’s better if we forget about it, I guess” was a ruthless fucking lie and he hopes you know that, when Wooyoung presses a bitter like on the beach-selfie you’d posted with him, presenting yourself in that bikini so you could finally catch a certain someone’s attention. “BFF4L” had been the caption. You little jokester. 

Fucking heartbreaker.

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

He doesn’t hate you, no, in fact, he hates that his cock immediately jumps back up once Wooyoung sees that picture again, with both of you smiling and grinning into the camera, holding each other arm in arm like two good friends are supposed to do, he hates that his hands remember how soft, sweaty and hot your skin felt under his touch, and Wooyoung hates himself that he was the one to have spoken out the question of, “we should probably forget yesterday, huh?”

He should have just shut the fuck up and fucked you again all his heart desired instead.

How much I love you

Maybe he’s really that slow, maybe he just didn’t catch how your face dropped a little bit when Wooyoung asked you to let go of the euphoric memories of feeling free, fiery and idolized in his car, return to the draining feeling of needing to be seen by other eyes.

It is a cruel task, but there’s a bond, a bond between you and him. A stupid bond which goes beyond the way you covered up your marks to meet up other men that summer– that stupid fucking bond which makes Wooyoung ready to grab his keys again, any time you call him out because he’s your best friend in need, your ride-or-die.

How much I need you

Wooyoung remembers you, even though he knows he shouldn't.

[tbatthis]

been thinking about shi-long lang all day as one does and have said this in increasingly incoherent ways with the langnaheads but like. i think it's so so funny how hard he constantly contradicts himself out of pure spite for edgeworth when you first meet him in case 3 lmao like. okay insane rambler long post time

he makes a big deal about showing people proper respect when you greet them, then Immediately calls edgeworth a Filthy Prosecutor who sucks fucking ass. he talks about how he leaves all the lame shit like "logic" and "truth" to the stupid cringe prosecutors and their stupid cringe courts but he also wants to prove that he has really cool epic logic and reasoning because he's the best investigationman who ever lived.

he talks about how Courts And Truth Don't Matter, Just Arrest Any Freak You See but he is actually using entirely sensible logic to accuse people like "hey you're the only guy with an unaccounted-for gun and you've been standing directly outside the place the guy got shot in." like edgeworth gets very tilted about this because lang's a huge dipshit about it but functionally he's doing what edgeworth does in every mainline aa case he prosecutes in. he's basically just using reasonable deduction that would probably land the real killer in a normal case, but he has inadvertently stepped into ace attorney where every culprit is the glue man who has invented a special glue that allows him to walk up and down anything, so Of Course The Guy At The Scene Who Owns The Only Gun That Could Be Involved isn't the dude.

and like all of this adds up to "lang appears to be a huge asshole who arrests anyone and doesn't actually care if he gets the culprit" but he also keeps explicitly demonstrating that he takes the investigation seriously and does actually think about the case and who could potentially be the culprit in a logical fashion. he doesn't literally arrest every single person he sees. he does actually have reasons for his actions beyond Arrest Em All 1989. and again he literally refers to his line of reasoning as his logic.

so like honestly i think the answer to "why does he keep saying truth and logic dont matter and are for gay nerds like edgeworth" is that he doesn't actually believe that and is just so perpetually angry at The Courts and prosecutors that he's just spouting it because he thinks a prosecutor's use of "logic" is inherently suspect and they're trying to reason their way into pushing a lie on people. and because he is shi-long lang and is the most ridiculous man to ever exist this manifests in him talking like a cartoon bully shoving the science geek in the locker. so like the consequence is lang seems insane. and he definitely is because he constantly roleplays as a wolf. but in reality he is a lot more reasonable than he presents himself, i think he's just so far into hating The Courts that he doesn't like to associate what he's doing with anything that might happen in a courtroom. lang isn't using "logic" to find "the truth" he is using "the detainment philosophy" to find "the criminals" which is very different he swears. he is not like the stinky courts.

also i think there's something in how when he's being antagonistic to edgeworth about his methods he says it's fine to just arrest whoever because "hey everyone's done something wrong" but then the second shih-na starts getting accused in case 5 he just totally refuses to entertain the idea she could ever do anything wrong. so like either shih-na is his special exception due to the fact that he is in love with her as know or he was once again just spouting shit he didn't really think to piss off edgeworth lmao

basically i think lang comes off this way because he's coping hardcore and wants to make edgeworth mad. which i think is really really funny and adds a lot to his Dumb Guy Aura

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Hi! new follower here! I really, I mean really love your writing!!

If asks are still open can i request 141 + LV, Konig & Horangi x GN!Civvie!Reader?? I know this might be cringe,,

(You can delete this if asks are closed!!)

Civvie!Reader is a happy person but is also depressed but secretly takes Prozac? (Also known as Happy Pills, if i'm not wrong) They don't know about it because they go on missions for like months and stuff,, but they get suspicious of her because Civvie!Reader acts strangely?? How will they react if they found out Civvie!Reader takes happy pills??

Also, please take your time and take care of yourself!!! 💖

H A P P Y H O U S E

Task Force 141 (+König, Horangi & LV) + gn! reader

AHHHHHH. Thank you so so much🥹🥹 I really appreciate your kind words 💘 I love this idea so much because I also do take meds to calm my anxieties and continue living a "normal" life. I love this ask sm, thank you for requesting it :) I hope you love this❣️❣️ Have a wonderful day <3

P.S: This wasn’t cringe at all🩷 Feel free to send anything you want without any second thoughts <3

P.P.S: I had to use google translate for the spanish words so I‘m sorry if there are any mistakes 😅 Correct me if I wrote something wrong <3

✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

König

König returned from another intense mission, a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline coursing through his veins. You awaited his arrival, a subtle smile playing on your lips despite the hidden battles within your mind. And you’re really good at hiding it because not even a soldier knows about your secret.

The two of you had built a connection that transcended the chaos of König's missions, finding solace in the moments you shared.

As König settled into the room, he noticed a subtle change in you. Your normally vibrant energy seemed to be not there and a shadow lingered behind your smile. Unbeknownst to him, you navigated the depths of depression, relying on a secret source of solace – the Prozac you secretly took.

Months passed, and the suspicion grew like an insidious seed in König's mind. The observant operative couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with you, the person he cared for deeply. Yet, the nature of his missions kept him away for extended periods, leaving a void where questions were left in his mind. Was it just you going through a phase or is it just a bad month for you?

One day, as he returned from a particularly grueling mission, the atmosphere between you two shifted. König's piercing gaze met yours, seeking answers veiled behind your eyes. Sensing his unease, you attempted to deflect, keeping the shadows of your struggles hidden.

However, the walls of secrecy could only hold for so long. König, driven by concern and a deep-rooted connection, pressed further, demanding the truth "Schatz, please tell me why you’re acting off these days? Is there something wrong? Did I do something wrong?" . Your heart raced as you hesitated, contemplating whether to expose the truth about the Happy Pills that kept your internal storms at bay.

With a heavy sigh, you confessed, explaining the battles fought in silence, the pills as your silent rises. The revelation hung in the air, a delicate balance between vulnerability and the strength that kept you going.

König faced a moment of internal conflict which was very unlikely for a soldier like him. His commitment to duty clashed with the newfound knowledge of your struggles. The air thickened with tension as he absorbed the weight of your revelation.

With a steady hand, König reached out, offering support in a way only he could. The revelation became a turning point, fostering a deeper connection that transcended the chaos of missions. This was not just your mission but also his.

Simon Riley

You radiated happiness in your everyday life. The laughter that echoed in your shared apartment seemed to drown out the chaos of the world outside. Unbeknownst to Simon, beneath your cheerful facade, you struggled with a persistent darkness that only you knew too well.

Months passed, and Simon's returns became less about the joyous reunions and more about the subtle observations. He noticed the moments when you seemed lost in thought, your laughter a bit too forced, your smiles not reaching your eyes. Concern etched across his face as he began to piece together the puzzle of your shifting demeanor.

One evening, after a particularly challenging mission, Simon returned home to find you sitting on the couch, staring into the void. The apartment, usually filled with the sound of your laughter, now felt heavy with an unspoken tension.

"Hey," Simon greeted, concern etched on his face. "Is everything okay?"

You hesitated, battling the conflicting emotions within. "Yeah, just a tough day, you know?"

Simon nodded, recognizing the weight of their shared profession. "You can always talk to me, you know."

As the weeks passed, Simon's concern grew. The distance between you widened, and the moments of joy became fleeting. One day, unable to bear the weight of your secret any longer, you decided to share the truth.

"Simon," you began, your voice wavering. "There's something I need to tell you."

His piercing blue eyes met yours, urging you to continue.

"I... I'm taking pills, for my depression…" you confessed, the words heavy with vulnerability. "It helps me cope, especially when you're away for so long."

Simon's expression shifted from confusion to understanding. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry," you admitted, tears welling up in your eyes. "I wanted to be strong for you, for us."

He sighed, reaching out to gently cup your face. "You don't have to carry this alone. Remember our vows to each other, y/n?"

John MacTavish

Months passed, marked by the silence of lonely nights and the constant hum of worry that clung to your thoughts. When Soap returned, his presence was a comforting storm that swept through the apartment. You welcomed him with a smile, hiding your internal struggles behind a façade of joy.

Yet, the missions took a toll on you, and Prozac became your silent ally. It was your lifeline, a small pill that held the power to lift the heavy fog that sometimes clouded your mind. As the days unfolded, Soap grew more observant, sensing subtle shifts in your behavior.

One evening, after a particularly challenging mission, Soap's gaze lingered on you as you sat on the edge of the bed, lost in your own thoughts. He sat down beside you, his eyes reflecting concern.

"You've been acting strangely, love. Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice a gentle inquiry.

You hesitated, the weight of your secret pressing against your chest. "Yeah, just... a bit tired, you definitely know what I‘m talking about, no?"

But Soap was perceptive, his military instincts attuned to the slightest deviations. "It's more than that, isn't it? You can talk to me, you know."

The words hung in the air, and you felt the weight of the truth pressing against your lips. This time your heart is talking instead of your brain. Because your heart has had enough.

"I... I've been struggling, Johnny. It's hard when you're away for so long. I just wanted to be the happy person you deserve."

His expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You don't have to pretend with me, love. We’re getting married in 2 Months. Stop pretending please."

You took a deep breath, the secret threatening to spill out. "There's something else," you confessed, and with shaky hands, you revealed the pill bottle. "I take these... for the low days. To stay afloat when you're not around."

Soap's brows furrowed as he processed the revelation. "Why didn't you tell me?"

You looked down, guilt and fear intertwined. "I didn't want you to worry. You have enough with the missions.This shouldn’t be another mission for you."

He gently lifted your chin, his eyes locking onto yours. "Love, your well-being is my priority. I want to be there for you, through the good and the challenging times." Johnny embraced you, the warmth of his presence

"We'll face this together," he murmured.

John Price

In the living room, John sat on the couch, cleaning his trusty M1911. You joined him on the couch, a book in hand, but your gaze was distant.

Price noticed your mood change. Concern etched across his rugged features, he gently asked, "Everything okay, love?"

You managed a smile, a facade you'd perfected over time. "Just tired, love. You know how it is."

He studied you for a moment, a war-hardened man with a keen eye for subtleties. "You've been different lately. Something on your mind?"

The weight of your secret pressed on you, but you dismissed it with a casual shrug. "Just the usual stress. Nothing I can't handle."

John , however, was not convinced. He set aside his gun-cleaning kit and turned to face you, his eyes locked onto yours. "You can talk to me, you know that, right?"

Your heart ached with a mixture of love and guilt. "I appreciate that, really, but some things are better left unsaid."

———

One evening, as Price returned from a particularly grueling mission, he noticed the pill bottle peeking out from your bag. His expression shifted from exhaustion to concern and worry. "What's this, love?"

You hesitated, caught off guard by the discovery. "It's just something to help me cope. No big deal."Price's eyes bore into yours, searching for answers. "Coping with what, exactly?"

Torn between honesty and protecting him from the harsh reality, you sighed. "Life, John. It gets heavy sometimes."

He sat down beside you, his rough hand finding yours. "You don't have to carry it alone. Talk to me."

And so, the conversation unfolded—a delicate dance between confession and reassurance. "I wish you had told me earlier," he admitted, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "We face enough demons out there. Let me help you battle the ones within."

Kyle Garrick

Kyle, fresh from a lengthy mission, entered the apartment he shared with you. The scent of your favorite coffee filled the air, but something seemed off. As he approached, he noticed you sitting on the couch, staring into space, a faint smile playing on your lips.

"Hey, love. Missed you," Kyle greeted, wrapping his arms around you. You leaned into the hug, but there was a distant look in your eyes.

"Missed you too, Kyle" you replied, your voice lacking the usual enthusiasm.

Concern etched across his face, Kyle sat down beside you. "Is everything okay, love? You seem a bit... off."

You sighed, hesitating for a moment before opening up. "I've just been feeling a bit down, but nothing serious. Just life stuff, you know?"

His brows furrowed with worry. "You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know," you said, forcing a smile. "I just need some time to sort things out. It's nothing you need to worry about."

Over the next few days, Kyle couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. You became more withdrawn, and he often caught you staring into space, lost in your thoughts. Finally, unable to contain his concern any longer, he gently broached the subject.

"Baby, I can't help but notice that you've been acting a bit... different. Are you sure you're okay?"

Your heart raced, but you maintained your composure. "I appreciate your concern, Kyle, but I promise it's just a rough patch. I'll get through it."

Despite your reassurances, Kyle's concern lingered. One evening, he accidentally stumbled upon a small prescription bottle while searching for something in the apartment.

"What's this?" he asked, holding up the Prozac bottle.

You froze, your heart pounding. "It's just... something to help me stay balanced. Don't worry about it."

His expression shifted from confusion to understanding. "You've been taking Happy Pills? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to burden you with my problems, especially when you're out there risking your life on missions," you confessed, avoiding eye contact.

Kyle gently lifted your chin, making you meet his gaze. "You're not a burden, You. We're in this together. I want to be there for you, no matter what."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you finally let your guard down. "I didn't want you to see me as weak or incapable of handling things."

Kyle hugged you tightly. "You're not weak, and taking medication doesn't change how strong you are. I just want to support you, okay?"

Horangi

You sat on the couch, anxiously twirling a strand of your hair as you waited for Horangi to return from his latest mission. You were grateful for the moments you shared when he was home, but the weight of your secret lingered like a shadow.

Horangi finally walked through the door, a weary but triumphant smile on his face. He dropped his gear by the entrance and moved towards you, pulling you into a warm embrace. "Missed you," he murmured against your hair.

"I missed you too, Horangi," you replied, managing a smile despite the persistent unease within you. The balance between the joy of his return and the fear of your secret being exposed was a constant struggle.

Horangi began to notice subtle changes in your behavior. Your laughter didn't ring as true, and the spark in your eyes seemed to flicker at times. This evening, he caught you staring into space, lost in thought.

"Is everything okay, love?" he asked, concern etching his features.

You looked up, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just tired from work, you know?" It was a half-truth, one you had repeated countless times. The Prozac helped you maintain a semblance of normalcy, but the battle was getting harder to overcome.

But it didn’t stop here.

Horangi's suspicions deepened each time. He decided to confront you one evening, concern etched across his face. "You've been distant, and I can't shake the feeling that something's off. Please, talk to me."

You took a deep breath, hesitating before finally deciding to trust him. "Horangi, I've been struggling. I... I take Prozac."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "Prozac? Why? What's going on?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you began to unravel the truth. "I've been dealing with depression, and these pills help me get through the tough times. I didn't want you to worry, especially with your missions taking you away for so long."

His expression softened as he took in the weight of your confession. "You should have told me, Y/N. I'm here for you my beautiful partner."

"I was afraid, Horangi. Afraid that you'd see me differently, that you'd worry too much," you admitted, vulnerability laid bare.

He gently cupped your face, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "I love you, and I want to be here for you. We're in this together, remember? You don't have to carry this burden alone, my Love."

Alejandro

Alejandro returned after a long mission. You greeted him with a bright smile, your eyes hiding the sadness within. The two of you had found peace and happiness in each other. But what he didn’t know is that you are on the edge of falling apart.

Alejandro continued his missions, leaving you to navigate through your own life. You maintained the façade of a happy soul, laughter echoing through the rooms when he was around. But, behind closed doors, you confronted the darkness, relying on Prozac.

One evening, as Alejandro unpacked his gear, he noticed the subtle changes in your behavior—the lingering sadness, the guarded moments when your eyes flickered with pain. Concern etched across his face, he gently inquired, "Something seems off, mi amor. Is everything okay?"

You hesitated, crafting a smile to mask the turmoil within. "I'm fine, just a bit tired, you know?" But Alejandro wasn't easily convinced.

He took your hands, his gaze penetrating. "You can tell me anything. We're in this together."

Your breath hitched, torn between the desire to confide and the fear of burdening him. "I... sometimes struggle with my emotions, but it's nothing major. I promise."

His eyes softened with understanding. "You don't have to carry it alone, cariño. We face battles together, remember?"

Alejandro observed the nuances in your behavior, the way you withdrew when the darkness loomed. The realization struck him as he stumbled upon the carefully concealed bottle of your happy pills, after deciding to put his clothes into the washing machine. A torrent of emotions flooded him—concern, empathy, and a tinge of hurt that you hadn't told him.

Quietly, he approached you, holding the bottle. "I found this. Why didn't you tell me?"

Tears welled in your eyes as you stammered, "uh…I uhm..I didn't want to burden you. You have enough on your plate with missions."

His gaze softened, and he cupped your face. "We face these things together, remember? Your pain is mine too."

Rodolfo

Rudy‘s daily life was on his extended missions, you on the other hand navigated your daily life, concealing a battle against depression. The small pills were your silent companions, providing a fragile balance to the storm within. Despite the challenges, you maintained a facade of happiness, always eager to cherish the fleeting moments when Rudy returned home.

Rudy,because of his strong instincts, noticed subtle changes in your behavior upon each return. Your laughter seemed a bit forced, and the sparkle in your eyes, though still present, appeared dimmed. Concern grew on his face as he began to sense something‘s wrong, forcing him to investigate.

The evening Rudy saw you sitting on the couch, lost in thought after having dinner together. His expression softened as he took in the weariness etched across your face. "You okay, amor?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You forced a smile, brushing off his worries with practiced ease. "Just tired, babe. You know how it is."

However, Rodolfo, read in reading between the lines, wasn't easily convinced. He persisted, gently pressing you to share your burdens. As you hesitated, a moment of vulnerability slipped through, prompting you to reveal the existence of the little pills that brought temporary peace to your depression.

Rodolfo's eyes widened in realization as the pieces of the puzzle started falling into place. He listened attentively as you explained the battles you fought silently while he was away. The weight of your revelation hung in the air.

A mix of worry, guilt, and love clouded Rodolfo's features. "Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered, his voice heavy with regret.

"I didn't want to burden you with my problems. You have enough problems with your missions," you admitted, a pang of guilt creeping into your voice.

Rudy, however, embraced you, dispelling the notion that your struggles were a burden. "You're not alone in this, my love. I love youu" he asserted, his commitment unwavering.

[lost-in-fandoms]

Logan and Max have a talk. Sort of. (I have never written Logan before, so I don't know if this even makes sense. Almost nothing happens, but there could be a second part in the future, who knows (not me)).

Logan wishes he was better at telling Alex no. He doesn't want to be at this party, for a race he barely even took part of, his car giving up on lap 15. He doesn't want to be standing here, near the wall, as he watches the other drivers drink and dance, ignoring him completely. He doesn't want the drink Alex placed in his hand before disappearing, without even telling him what was in it. He wants to go to bed. He wants to call his mom.

One hour, that's how much time he has promised himself. He'll stay one hour, long enough to say he was there, not long enough to make him want to get completely smashed and sob into some girl's chest (that had been one time, but it had been a low point he does never want to repeat), and then he'll go back to the hotel. He doesn't remember the time difference well enough to know if he'll be able to talk to his mom before going to sleep, barely remembers in which country they're in.

He's contemplating his glass again, trying to decipher what kind of alcoholic concoction is in there and to ignore the thumping bass, when a pair of sneakers and blue jeans appear in his line of vision.

He looks up and finds himself face to face with three-soon-to-be-four times world Champion Max Verstappen. He doesn't think he's ever been in a one to one conversation with Max before, so he can't think about a single reason why he should be standing in front of him, looking straight at him. Unless he's here to kick him out? Would Max kick him out of the party for being too pathetic?

Now he's being self-pitying, he needs to stop. No drinking and sobbing incidents tonight.

"You okay, mate?" Max asks, voice barely loud enough over the music, eyes intense. The glass in Logan's hand feels slippery, he's afraid he'll drop it.

"Yeah, fine!" he replies, cringing at his own basic response, even if he doesn't know what else he could have said. It's not like Max is asking because he really cares, and it's not like he could give him the truthful answer either.

Instead of moving on and going back to the party like Logan is expecting after the somewhat failed social interaction, Max keeps looking at him, tilting his head slightly, eyes narrowed, before he steps closer and plucks the glass from Logan's hand, placing it on a nearby table.

"Follow me," he orders. He doesn't wait before turning around and walking away. For some reason, Logan doesn't even question it, just unsticks himself from his wall and follows him to the bar, where Max orders a beer and another g&t, and then up a flight of stairs, onto a balcony.

"Are we allowed to be here?" Logan asks, looking at the very obvious DO NOT OPEN sign hanging on the balcony door Max is already pushing open.

Max just shrugs, going outside and sitting down on a lawn chair, placing the drinks on the low table in front of him. Of course, Logan reminds himself, he's Max Verstappen, who's going to tell him no? He probably could buy this whole place out himself if he wanted to.

Logan sits down next to him.

"Here," Max says, passing him the beer. Again, Logan doesn't question it before taking a sip. Much better than Alex's weird drink.

For a long moment, they just sit in silence. They can still hear the music from downstairs, but it's different out here, with the sounds of the city and the fresh air. Logan almost forgets about being confused and upset, about wanting to go home. Home home. Then Max speaks again.

"We can talk about why you are sad, or we can sit here until I finish my drink. Both are okay."

Logan doesn't understand. Why is Max, of all people, wanting to talk to him about his shitty season? And why would he want to just sit there with him? Does he look that pathetic?

He tries to feel upset, tries to look for the spark of indignation, but he comes up empty. He can just stare at Max's profile as the other takes a sip of his drink, eyes fixed on the skyline, throat working.

Max doesn't ask again. He must accept that Logan's answer is silence, doesn't even seem put off by it, but Logan's brain can't stop buzzing, questions bouncing around so fast he can barely keep up with them.

They stay quiet. Max finishes his drink. Logan keeps watching him as he stretches slightly, before he stands up and turns to face him.

"If you want to come talk to me, I know how it feels, to be hungry" he says slowly, measured, like he's been thinking about this for the whole time. "But if you want advice right now..."

It takes a second for Logan to realize Max is waiting for a sign, and he rushes to nod. Max's lip curls up slightly, his eyes crinkling, before he turns serious again.

"At some point, you will of course have to decide if you want to lay down and wait for the team to take pity, or if you want to bite and make them work with you."

Logan blinks. Max blinks back.

When it's clear that Logan isn't going to say anything, Max nods, turns around, seems to rethink and turns back, his eyes impossibly bright.

"I can show you how to take what you want, whatever you want." Suddenly, it feels like they're not just talking about racing anymore. Logan's neck feels hot. Max licks his lips, something dangerous in his expression that is usually reserved for the track, for when things aren't as he'd like. Logan has seen it before, but never turned towards him. He's stuck on his chair, feeling like prey despite Max telling him he could, and should, take.

He waits for the blow, he knows it's coming, but is still completely unprepared for the way Max smiles when he speaks.

"I will even call you a good boy, if you do it right."

The sound Logan lets out is undignified enough it will have to go in the lowest points list right next to the drinking&crying episode, but Max laughs, not unkindly, squeezing Logan's shoulder.

"You have my number, and you know where I'll be next week. Drink your beer."

Logan has the bottle pressed against his lips even before Max has made it across the balcony, going back to the party.

[roadkillremi]

Glances Exchanged

Tatum Riley X F!Reader

^Picture above does not dictate readers appearance^

MasterList

Summary : after a long painful crush on Tatum. The truth comes out in front of her and her boyfriend.

Warnings: language, underaged drinking, mentions drunk dad, being outted. A corny truth or dare. I know just read it.

There was something about her pink lipgloss. The way she slid it on perfectly and licked her lips. You wondered if it tasted like bubblegum or strawberry. The wind blew lightly moving her bangs in her face. She smiled as Stu fixed her hair, you looked away trying to hide the realization.

"You're staring again." Randy whispered holding his sad brown bag of lunch. You looked down and stared walking towards the fountain.

"I didn't mean too-" you muttered. He chuckled, "Uh-huh. Like how you didn't mean to stare at her tits last week?". You glared at him wanting him to shut up. You sat in your usual spot, "Y/N! Finally you can save me from all this... testosterone" she cringed. You smiled, "Sure.". Stu kissed her cheek, "Yeah like you don't enjoy it.".

Your stomach knotted even more. Twisting in new directions, you wanted to puke and hide. More of hide and then puke.

"Anyway." She rolled her eyes looking at you. You took a bite of a pretzel, "Stus having a small party, you in?".

"Uh, the last "Small Party" was around 100 people.." you corrected. She smirked, "it's just gonna be me, Stu, Sydney, Billy, and.. Randy.".

Tatum had this sick thought of you and Randy together. Which wouldn't work due to you not liking Randy, or men. You blinked, "Uh..".

"She'll come." Randy chimed in. You gave him a look hoping it'd explode his head. You turned back towards Tatum, "I have homework..".

"Aw.. come on! Don't be a buzz kill!" Stu shouted. He gently hit your shoulder. You inhaled deeply, "Okay. But only us? Got it?" You pointed at the two of them.

"Sure thing, Mary Poppins." Stu scoffed.

Mary Poppins was the oh so glorious nickname you were given. Stu decided this because you were quoted, "the caring mom friend.". You cringed at the name, "Stop calling her that." Tatum snapped. Your face formed a shade of pink you smiled to yourself and looked down.

"What time tonight.. I'll bring some beer." You offered.

"I don't think your old man would like that" Billy jabbed. He didn't talk this whole time, you scanned his body language.

"He's too drunk to notice." You purse your lips together. You go quiet, Tatum sighed "How about you come over after school to get ready with me?". You gaze over in her direction, your eyes lit up.

"Sure." You hesitantly answered. She smiled sweetly at you, Randy playfully elbowed your side. You continued to eat your food feeling all giddy inside.

2 hours later

You waited by Tatum's locker, you gripped your bag tightly. You spotted her prancing down the hall with a lollipop in her mouth. She smiled jogging over to you, "I'm so excited. I'm gonna make you hotter!". Her face dropped realizing what she said.

"Not that you're not hot. Im just excited to do your makeup and stuff. I mean I'm youre beautiful without makeup-"

"Tatum." You interrupted. She glanced up at you going silent, "I get it, you're good.". She smiled in relief, "Anyway. Let's pick out clothes from your house and then go to mine.". She looped her arm through yours before walking towards the front door of the school.

"I'm thinking of that cute white skirt and a baby tee." She suggested. She pushed open the doors walking straight ahead. People scurried out of the way for her, she sucked on her lollipop pulling it out with a loud pop.

"And I can do your hair!" She gushed. You smiled, "Sure.". She swayed hips slightly bumping them into yours. Randy made eye contact with you on the way to his house. He shook his head with a toothy smile. You rolled your eyes towards him going back to listening to Tatum ramble.

The short walk to your house ended, you pulled out your keys to open the door. You invited Tatum in, "My rooms down the hall.." you instructed. She nodded observing your house, you walked to your room with her close behind you. You opened the door to your room, the lacey curtains let the light in.

"Your rooms are so cozy!" She cooed. You shrugged, "Eh, some of this shit is from when I was 5.". She looked in your closet pulling out some clothes.

"I think it's adorable. You listen to The Hole?" She asked looking at the poster. You nod, "Yeah she's so ho- er.. cool!" You corrected. She smiled, "Yeah. I'm more of a.. Madonna girl.".

"I mean she did change music culture." You smiled. She smiled back, "Exactly. She like.. told people AIDS aren't bad. And just... she's so cool.". You nodded, "Totally.". She grabbed a pair of jeans, "These are so cute on you.".

You had to admit, the jeans hugged your figure just right and were slightly baggy on your calves. She then pulled out a cropped tanked and put it out in front of you.

"With this!" She shoved the pieces of clothing towards you. You took them and started to change, her eyes widen. She watched you for a moment before looking away. She cleared her throat, "So.. where's that beer?".

"Uh, the kitchen cabinet near the pantry." You slid your jeans on with a hop. You finished getting dressed and grabbed your tote. You glanced at Tatum, "Ready?". She nodded practically slipping out the door. She went to grab some beer slipping them in your bag. You looked in the living room to see your dad passed out.

"Okay, let's go." You gently nudged her shoulder. She grinned walking towards the door. Once you locked the door behind you the both of you giggled.

"God, I can't believe he didn't wake up." She exclaimed. You watched the cars go by as you walked down the sidewalk.

"Yeah, he was knocked out." You added. She ran to her front door opening it for you. She ran upstairs to her room, she grabbed your arm pulling you to her vanity.

"let's get this party started." She smiled. She grabbed some of her mascara and lip gloss. You close your eyes trying to relax, you'd jump whenever she touches you without warning.

"Purse your lips out.." she calmly instructed. You did as told, you felt the wand glide against your lips. The same lip gloss that touched her lips. You felt like a preschooler gushing over this.

"Wow.. you look.. sexy-" she admired her work moving some strands of your hair. You fluttered your eyes open, you immediately looked at her. She grinned down at you, "Yeah.. really gorgeous.." you whispered.

"Are.. you and Randy dating?" She questioned. She went to her closet looking through clothes.

"Uh, no. He's not my type." You laughed a bit in the end. You watched her undress her self revealing her back to you. Your mouth went dry, "I uh... hows things with Stu?".

"Good I guess.." she muttered putting a different shirt on.

"Do you like Randy?" She turned back towards you.

"No. Not a chance." You smiled. She nodded, "I mean you're too good for him anyway." She sighed.

"Now let's go! I'll drive you!" She grabbed your hand pulling up. She sprinted downstairs only to be stopped by her mom.

"Tatum. Where are you going?" She placed her hands on her hips firmly. You glanced in between the two ladies, "Out with Y/N Sydney joining us!". Her mom slowly nodded, "Alright... be safe. I love you!".

"I love you too, Mom." She smiled leaving the house. She walked towards her yellow bug.

The drive there was filled with music. She sang along to almost every song. She tapped the stirring wheel to the beat. When Stus driveway was close by she whipped her car in.

"Ah, we're fashionably late!" She unbuckled getting out of the car. You followed behind her, Stu opened the door on cue.

"About time!" He called out embracing Tatum. You walked in unloading the beer from your bag. Randy grabbed a beer leaning back into the couch.

"How'd it go?" He opened the beer against the coffee table. You leaned back exhaling, "She took off her shirt in front of me..". Randy almost choked, "What!".

"Oh keep your dick in your pants. I only saw her back.". Billy strolled in holding chips, "Y/N.".

"Billy." You mocked. He placed the chips on the table. He gave you a look, a mocking smirk.

"So.. you're little crush..".

"Is Randy! Haha caught me." You panicked. Randy's eyes widened, "Mhm!". You two had a pact if anyone found out without you telling them. You'd fake date each other, sadly it was now .

"Wait. So you and Randy are?" Billy scoffed. Tatum glanced over, "Wait... you said you two weren't dating..".

"We aren't! I mean.. we are?" You looked at Randy for guidance. He looked at Tatum, "Uh. We're not dating. We are thinking about dating." He pointed. She leaned on her leg, "Uh-huh..". Sydney walked through the door frame.

"What'd I miss?" She smiled. You sunk into the couch, you felt nauseous.

"Nothing..." you muttered. Billy glared down at you, "Y/N and Randy might date.". You wanted to sink more, "Wow. How cute!" She smiled.

"Yeah. Hey I have a brilliant idea. Let's play truth or dare!" Billy clasped his hands together. Tatum rolled her eyes sitting in an arm chair.

"How old are you?" She judged. He grinned, "Just go with it...". He opened a beer bottle handing it to you. You quickly gulped the beer down, "Randy truth or dare?".

"Uh tr-"

"Don't be a pussy man!" Stu cheered. Randy exhaled, "Dare.". You shook your head, "This is stupid Billy. Let's just watch TV.".

"I dare you to kiss, Y/N..." Billy smiled widen. It frightened you a bit, "Sure.". Randy scooted closer to you giving you a peck. You stayed still and left slammed your eyes shut. Billy scoffed, "God that was pathetic..".

"Stu your turn." Billy kept his eyes on you. You stiffened and sat up, "That's not how this works!". Randy also sat up, Stu out his hands on top his head stretching.

"Stu-" Randy warned.

"Hmm. Is it true you have a crush on my girlfriend?.."

"Randy? I known him since first grade-" Tatum cringed. Stu laughed, "No not Randy..". Tatum face went red, she gazed over to you. Your eyes hurt due to tears poking through. Your chest felt like it was gonna explode.

She wouldn't want to be near you anymore. You probably freaked her out, she'll likely will tell everyone. You shook lightly wanting to run, "So?..".

"I uh..". Randy fidgeted, "Shut up, Billy! Like you aren't gay for Stu!" He shouted. You glanced over at Randy, "leave her alone. She should come out on her own terms.". A small tear fell and you looked down at the floor.

"I like girls.. okay? I just so happen to like Tatum.. but I never did anything." You defended. Tatum sat up, Stu shook his head. Billy raised his eyebrow and moved back against the couch. The criticism radiated, you hugged your torso.

"I can't believe you, Stuart! We're over!" She stood up getting in his face. He looked confused, "What?".

"God, you moron.. I'm bisexual! Madonna is a icon for the gays." She sighed. Randy looked at you, "I told you so! I knew it was weird she liked Madonna so much!".

"Randy shut up!" You and Tatum fussed in unison. Tatum looked at you sweetly, she grabbed your hand leading you out the house. You panicked looking back at Randy. He shrugged, she went out into the chilly night air.

"You should've told me sooner.."

You blankly stared at her, "Hello? Earth to Y/N!" She laughed. You smiled, "Sorry I just... You didn't have to break up with Stu.." you mumbled. She smirked, "He sucks anyways.".

She looked into your eyes, she leaned closer kissing you. Your heart melted, "WOOHOO!" Randy cheered. You rolled your eyes at him and cupped her face. She grinned, "are you gonna ask me on a proper date?". You blinked and then jerked your hand away.

"Oh! Yeah, do you wanna get dinner?.." you asked softly. She smiled, "Sure. And then we're going to the zoo." She added. You smiled, "Of course.".

She smiled and kissed you again, you melted into her touch. Her lipgloss, the lipgloss, tasted like warm vanilla cake. You pressed against her more holding her waist. When she separated from the kiss she giggled slightly.

"My lip gloss got on your lips.." she tried to take it off your lips. You grinned, "It's alright..".

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

What Are We?

pairing: bo x gn!reader

summary: when bo starts to question your relationship, you're both forced to confront your feelings for one another

warnings: smut, oral sex (m receiving), angst (with a happy ending...sort of), soft bo (sort of), bo might also be slightly out of character

a/n: i apologise in advance for what you're about to read...cos this one kinda hurt

word count: 1171

"What are we?"

"What?" You rolled over to find Bo staring at you, his brows pulled together in concentration as he laid with his head propped up in his hand.

"What are we?" He asked again, a little more urgency in his tone now.

You pressed your lips together, taking a moment to think about his question.

The first time you'd met Bo, it was when you stumbled into town, having no prior knowledge to what usually went on here. Your shitty old car had broken down and Lester had been kind enough to give you a ride into town.

The second you saw him you knew you were in trouble. When he smiled, your heart skipped a beat and when he reached up to adjust the worn cap on his head, your skin seemed to come alight. You wanted him.

Bo wanted you too, except at first, it was in a different way.

It wasn't long before he was dragging you into his basement, your broken down car long forgotten at that point, and he kept you there for the next three weeks.

You should've hated him, or at the very least been scared of him. But maybe you were just fucked in the head, because you couldn't seem to find it in you to fear this man, despite everything he'd done to you. It was an odd feeling to say the least.

Now, you felt even more odd as you laid in bed with him, his fingers absent-mindedly stroking your arm like he hadn't previously been your kidnapper.

And he was asking you something you had never dreamed would ever come out of his mouth, because what were you? Lovers? Friends? Were you in a relationship?

"I don't know what we are." You finally answered, a feeling of sadness spreading in your chest as you took in his expression.

His usual scowl seemed to melt into a frown as he looked at you, something resembling disappointment in his eyes. "Well...how do you feel about me?"

You noticed him cringe slightly as he said that. Feelings weren't exactly his favourite thing to talk about.

You smiled, mostly from amusement, as you shifted closer to him in the bed. "I like you, is that what you wanna hear?"

He simply pressed his mouth into a line as he thought about it, all the while you were slowly moving closer to him, your fingers skating along his jaw as you leaned towards him.

But he was quick to stop you, his fingers curling around your wrist as he pried you off of him. "Don't."

And that single word was what sent your whole world off balance, because Bo was never like this. "Do you really care what we are to each other?"

He scoffed at you then, his signature scowl returning to his face. "No. I was just thinking about it, that's all. Don't mean I care."

He rolled over then, letting you stare at his back whilst you mulled over his question in your head. You'd always thought your relationship with him was strictly sexual, never involving anything more than casual feelings, but it seemed that that might not have been the case.

As much as you'd like to tell him that you two were merely just friends who had sex sometimes, you knew for a fact that wasn't true. For a few months now, you'd noticed your feelings becoming a little deeper than simply casual. You just couldn't figure out exactly what he meant to you.

You reached towards him then, gently running your fingers down his back.

He didn't react, he simply remained where he was, his back still to you as he kept silent.

"I love you, Bo." You finally said, your heart clenching in your chest at the words. "I have for a while."

He turned around then, the hard look on his face softening. "Yeah?"

You smiled. "Yeah."

Although you weren't entirely sure if that was the truth, you hoped it was.

Before anything else could be said between you, you reached a hand towards his face, pulling him towards you so you could press a tender kiss to his lips.

"Say it again." He mumbled as you began trailing your lips down his throat.

"I love you." You sighed into his skin, heat already beginning to pool between your thighs. "I love you."

You were practically chanting the words as you continued to make your way down his body, eventually pausing when you reached the hem of his shirt.

You cast a quick glance to him before pushing the dark material up his body, letting him remove the clothing completely as he lifted it over his head, discarding it somewhere on the floor.

"Fuck, I love you." You muttered again, your fingers already hooking underneath the waistband of his boxers, eagerly tugging them down his legs.

"I love you so much." You said again, your voice dripping with desperation as you wrapped a hand around his length, making his hips jerk off the bed slightly.

Bo let out a guttural moan when you finally closed your mouth over his tip, wasting no time in taking him further.

You loved when he let you take control like this, when he let you show him just how much you cared for him. And from the sounds spilling from his mouth right now, it seemed he loved it too.

You felt him slide his hand over the back of your head, his fingers tightly gripping onto your hair as you started to bob your head up and down on his cock.

And whilst you were enjoying the fact that it was you who was coaxing the desperate moans out of him, you also found it relieving that you didn't have to speak anymore, because you still didn't know if you actually loved him. But you wanted to.

You continued your movements over him, causing quiet moans to keep slipping from his mouth as he gripped the back of your head, and after a while you could tell he was close.

Tears were starting to burn your eyes and saliva was running down your chin, and you had never felt more alive than you did in this moment. So what if you didn't love him yet, he still managed to light your whole body on fire whenever you were together like this. That was what mattered to you.

"Oh fuck." You heard him groan, his grip on your hair becoming painful now as he started to thrust into your mouth. "That's it. Come on."

After a few more hard thrusts into your mouth, you finally felt him go rigid beneath you, his warm release spilling over your tongue. And once he was spent, you pulled off of him, swallowing hard as you crawled back up the bed.

You both laid side by side, not touching, the sound of heavy breathing filling the room. And then he said "I love you."

And you had never felt more broken.

[Main Masterlist] [Bo Masterlist]

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

I could teach you things

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Tag list: @smromanoff

Summary: While Wanda deals with the police officer Nat takes you away and shows you her house, Daddy Nat to the rescue!

Words: 1,900

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, swearing, mentions of smut, daddy nat and mommy Wanda

"Good morning officer how are you?" Wanda used her sweetest mom voice for the man, something she'd mastered over the years "good morning Miss Maximoff I need to ask you some questions about Y/n"

Wanda lent against the door with a questioning look on her face "oh Y/n? She's my boys babysitter is everything okay?"

The man glanced behind her to the empty house and then back to her "may I come inside and we talk more?"

The woman agreed "absolutely sir, come in" she let him in and just as he closed the door she glanced out to see Nat and you walk past, giving her a thumbs up Nat smiled pulling you closer "told you your mommy had it under control, now come on let's go for some lunch I'm starving"

Nat dragged you away from the house and past your own house "where are we going?" You asked Nat and she smiled "you get to see where Daddy lives"

You cringed at what she called herself "do you have to call yourself that? Like I don't know you that well so I'm not going to call you something like that"

Nat thought about it, you were telling the truth, you didn't know each other that well, well nat will make sure you know her very well in the coming weeks

"Sure I get that, but on the other hand, you're going to call me Daddy because you'll go back to your home otherwise and your overbearing mother and you don't want that do you? Leaving your mommy and Daddy all alone?"

Did you want that? You should because she was your mom and she literally sent over a police officer because she was worried, but for some reason you didn't "no, no I don't" you said hanging your head making Nat smile

"Don't be ashamed honey, Wanda will make anyone leave their family I mean I left my partner for her husband then I left him for her, she's wild"

You started laughing "it sounds more like you're the wild one in this situation"

She agreed "true very true honey, it seems like Wanda and I were made for each other like that, now we have you and you're just like us"

"no" you said quietly, you were nothing like them, or this perfect little family they seemed to want

"Hmm, do you want to be taken care of?"

You shrugged "I mean I'm an adult so I don't think it's right when I can do it mys-

"I'll answer for you, yes you do" Nat continued "you act all big and grownup but in reality you just want to stay in the house playing your silly video games with some snacks and your teddies around you cuddling you in bed, that's what you want"

Your eyes glistened with tears and Nat brought you into a tight hug "oh malyshka it's okay you'll be okay, it is what you want isn't it? You want to empty headed and kept safe, come on now to my place, Mommy will get you later"

You shakily nodded and let Nat walk you along to her house you found wasn't that far away and she shared it with her sister Yelena, who didn't seem surprised with your appearance in her house "is this Y/n? She is adorable" the woman patted you on the head laughing and Nat pushed her away "ostanovis' yelena, I thought you were going out?"

"I'm going, have fun" she left giving you a wink

"That's my baby sister, she's fun" Nat said as if you were actually interested, which you weren't but you were sure she wouldn't be impressed if you said that

"cool" you finally said and Nat directed you through the house to a room you guess was Natashas and you hesitated at the door "it's okay Y/n nothing's going to happen, unless you want it to"

You shook your head and Nat nodded "okay go on, lay down and have a rest, I'll get you some snacks" you were given a little push and went to the bed sitting down and sighing, this was the most comfortable bed you've ever been on

You didn't even notice Nat leave and come back with some chips, soda and fruit "what are you thinking of pretty girl?"

You sat up looking at her "why are you being nice to me?"

"I'm always nice to pretty girls" she joked and you just lay back down "fine, don't tell me the truth, thanks for the snacks" you huffed opening a bag of chips eating some of them

"You're welcome sweet one"

********************************************************************

"Well thank you Miss Maximoff I appreciate you answering my questions" the officer and Wanda were at the door saying goodbyes when your mother came storming over shouting and screaming about nothing important

"She has my daughter! Why haven't you arrested her?!"

The officer held her back trying to calm her down "Mrs Y/L/N please calm down I didn't find your daughter and Miss Maximoff assures me she hasn't seen her for a while, why don't we go back to your house discuss more places she could be okay?"

He dragged her away and Wanda watched giving the woman a wink and stepping back inside the house closing the door and seeing her boys in the room "everything okay mom?" "where's Y/n?"

She calmed the boys down "hey hey boys relax, I'm fine the officer was just asking me some questions and Y/n is with Nat but I'll go and get now okay and we can have pizza for dinner"

"Yeah!" They both high-fived and ran back through the house with Wanda shouting to them "I'll be back in 20 minutes! Behave!"

There was a jumbled of responses and she took that as a yes leaving the house and going to Nat's house to get you

************************************************************

You were fast asleep when Wanda came into the room with Nat following "she fell asleep pretty quickly after her snacks"

Wanda sat next you on the bed stroking your face "wake up milaya devushka time to go home"

You stirred awake leaning into her hand and opening your eyes "there she is, are you ready to come back home?"

You sat up in the bed and asked "what about my mom?"

Wanda sighed "don't worry about her, she wont come around again, now come on let's get you back, we're having pizza" when you still refused to move Nat sat next to you too "what's wrong detka?"

"I'm still unsure about this whole thing and its still fucking crazy"

Wanda let that outburst go for now and grabbed your hand intertwining your fingers together "let's just go back home okay? The boys miss you already"

Was Wanda just using the boys to manipulate you into staying? Probably, but you agreed to go back "okay I do miss them"

********************************************

You arrived back at Wanda's house with pizza in tow for the four of you "boys we're back! Wanda shouted through the house and Agatha came through the kitchen door "well there's the lovebirds, the boys are asleep, they must've had a tough day"

Wanda smiled thanking Agatha for coming over, unexpectedly but none the less at least the boys were safe

"Actually hun how about I stay and watch the boys a little longer and you two enjoy a night out on the town! I think you both deserve it"

You shook your head "I really just want to go to bed actually I haven't been sleeping well-

Wanda pinched your side stopping you mid sentence "actually I think that's a wonderful idea! Come on princess we'll go and get ready, Thanks Agatha" running upstairs you were dragged along like a rag doll and dragged into Wanda's closet

"Alright my love what do you want to wear?" She searched through the clothes quickly pulling out something that looked like lingerie and your heart stopped, was it for you or her? either way you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together that Wanda noticed when she turned around

"Hmm maybe we should get a hotel room instead if you're this easily turned on? I can finally teach you some things"

You shook your head "no, no I think going out will be just fine" you mumbled and Wanda gave you some clothes "put these on and this dress on"

You were given the pieces of lingerie you saw and a short dress "er I don't think this will fit me?"

The woman smiled pulling you close kissing you and letting one of her hands trail down your body squeezing your ass making you jump and pull away from the kiss suddenly "something wrong my love?" She asked with that infuriating smirk on her face

"I'll just go and get dressed" you went to leave but Wanda stopped you "little girls need their mommy to help them get dressed"

You looked at her questionably "I can dress myself Wan-

She glared at you and you corrected yourself

"I can dress myself mommy, I don't need your help" mumbling and trying to turn around leaving the closet with Wanda close behind pushing you to the bed "what-

"See you're so clumsy you need my help to even walk out of a closet"

You stood up from the bed and you were quickly grabbed by Wanda "now put the lingerie and short skimpy dress on and we'll go out, get drunk and I'll finally teach you all the wonderful things I promised to teach you" she kissed your neck sucking deep purple bruises into your skin and you groaned moving your head to the side letting her kiss more of you trailing her lips down to your shoulder but then she stopped frustrating you

"I know you want it princess but you'll have to wait, because that's what good girls do” she pushed you away and you pouted an idea popping into your head “sounds like you can’t actually do anything to me, I think you’re scared”

Instead of reacting how you thought she’d react all Wanda did was chuckle “little girl I can fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for weeks, you’ll be so dumbed down the only words that come out of your mouth will be soft whimpers and incoherent moans”

You swallowed hard trying not to rub your thighs together as you felt yourself throb at thought of her fucking you, unfortunately for you mommy knows and sees everything

“Why are you rubbing your thighs together baby? Is your little pussy wet? I bet it is, maybe you should forgo the panties if you’re just going to soak them”

You sat on the bed refusing to answer her question instead starting to take your clothes off to begrudgingly change into the dress you'd been given

"Good girl see, isn't it fun behaving?"

You went to put the skimpy panties on but Wanda stopped you "no panties"

You were shocked "what?!"

"No panties Y/n, easier access for me" she grabbed the underwear putting them into her small bag

God this night was going to be hellish, for you at least but Wanda was loving every minute of it "it'll be fun princess, maybe I'll invite Daddy too, she enjoys nights out too, you should see her in a suit, fucking gorgeous"

"Whatever, I don't drink much though so not too many" you said not noticing Wanda's smirk "sure detka"

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Yeah…so…hi 👋🏻

It’s 💛. First of all, I’m very good thanks for asking. Just trying to get through university right now. I hope your last few days of high school go well. I know it can be a stressful time, but you got this!

So, anyways, I am now obsessed with your break the cycle fic. It’s awesome. I would inject it into my veins if I could. It’s so angsty and ugh I just love it so much. I was wondering if you could possibly do a sequel to it. Maybe Clancy being determined to get the reader to see the truth and trying to integrate her more into the Bandito camp? It could end angsty again with her still not believing them or it could end fluffy with them truly reuniting and teaming up against Dema. Either way I would die for.

Please, I beg of thee. This story quite literally may be my new obsession.

Break the Cycle Part 2 - Clancy x Reader

PART 1 + PART 3

Relationship: Tyler Joseph/Clancy x Fem!Reader and Josh/Torchbearer x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Violence, anything related to Dema or the Trench story that's generally triggering. Angst

Word Count: 2027 - it's long bestie!

A/N: I'm glad you're doing well! Break the Cycle is one I'm super proud of. I just loved writing a fresh out of Dema Clancy and pov because being in a situation like that, you don't just automatically change your mind on how you've been raised (we literally see Clancy not being able to break the cycle himself and for him to expect the reader to instantly believe him when it's taken him so long to get where he is just isn't realistic hence why part 2 is what it is). Hope this does part 1 justice and cannot wait for your next request!

“It means he loves you, idiot. You just have to break the cycle,” Josh muttered, before leaving me alone in the tent. Surprisingly, the weather was warmer out in Trench than it was back in Dema. The jacket I’d swiped from my room before leaving the city was starting to stick to my skin and sweat was dripping down my forehead. I tried flicking my hair so it would get out my face but it just made it fall down more. I couldn’t sit in this tent for much longer. I’d had nothing to drink for at least 3 hours–and it wasn’t like I could just get up and walk away. 

“Let me go!” I begged, calling out and trying to get the attention of anyone who would listen to me. Nothing. Tears started to stream down my face, a sick feeling rushing through my body. Keons hadn’t betrayed the other bishops, of course he hadn’t. He wouldn’t have just sent me off for nothing. A shadow cast over the side of the tent as the fabric rustled in the wind. “Hello?” I called out, waiting for some sort of response. Tyler stepped inside and sat down in front of me, completely silent. He had his mask in his hand and all I could think about was how different he looked–a couple new scars scattered across his face from battles I could only imagine. I wondered how he really got them. He looked stoic, calm even. I wanted to run, I wanted to punch him in the face and run far far away. “Are you just going to sit there and stare at me Tyler?” I scoffed. 

“It’s Clancy,” he answered bluntly.  

“I don’t care what it is,” I snapped, feeling the restraints on my wrists dig into my skin. “You’re Tyler to me.” As much as I wished he was still the same as before he’d clearly changed. Josh had mentioned that Trench had a way of changing people and the evidence was sitting right in front of me. Tyler nodded, his demeanor remaining serious. 

“Josh has asked me to show you around the camp,” he spoke. “Promise me you won’t run away Artemis.” He used the name Sacarver had gifted me, I cringed, not wanting to hear it escape his lips. 

“I’m not going to run away.” I held up the restraints and he moved to release me. Before I could rub the irritated skin he gripped my wrists and ran his fingers over them, a slight burning sensation rushed over the reddened lines. His touch reminded me of how we used to be, back when everything was normal–back when he was still mine. “It hurts,” I winced. 

“I think you’ll be okay. Let’s go,” he muttered, getting up and holding the door open for me. 

It was brighter outside than in the tent, my eyes needed a couple minutes to adjust. The warm air entered my nose, bringing a sense of clarity to my lungs. That was the one thing about Trench that I liked. The air felt crisp, clean. In Dema the air always felt polluted, dirty. “I thought you’d like the air, you used to complain a lot about feeling you were suffocating back home,” Tyler recalled. He was right, I used to complain about it a lot, so much so that our friends could predict when I was about to start a complaining session. I didn’t answer Tyler. I couldn’t bring myself to. We continued to walk through the camp as several banditos including Jenna greeted us. Josh was nowhere to be seen. I was shown the storage chests where all the food was kept as well as the huge bonfire at the center of the camp. I could tell why Tyler liked it better here than in Dema. There were more colors, I’d never seen so much green in one place. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” 

I nodded in agreement. Tyler reached down and held my hand, intertwining our fingers and rubbing the calloused pad of this thumb over the back of my right hand. I looked up at him, our eyes meeting each other. 

“It’s beautiful Tyler, but we should go home. Keons seemed really worried about you,” I sighed. He gripped my hand tighter, clearly telling me that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. 

“Artemis, at least try to call me Clancy,” he insisted, “and I’ve already told you, Keons has betrayed the Bishops and is likely dead by now.” I dropped his hand and started to walk away towards the edge of the mountain. I wasn’t going to stand there and be convinced that my entire life had been a lie, that one of the two bishops who genuinely cared about me was dead. Tyler wasn’t going to do that to me, I wouldn’t let him. 

“Wait! You can’t just leave! Artemis!!” He stayed where he was, calling after me but refusing to leave the camp. A small part of me wished he would follow me, beg me to stay, explain everything, but he didn’t. As I reached the end of the mountain, I stopped and sat down, a circle of yellow flowers surrounding the border of the clearing. I squinted my eyes, looking off into the distance. If I looked properly, I could see the little gray dot that I’d known as my home for so many years. The sound of footsteps thumped behind me, causing me to turn around to see who it was. Josh. 

“What are you doing here?” I questioned. He hadn’t been around all day, clearly something had been more important than making sure I was okay. Torchbearer duties. 

“Clancy has informed me that you tried to run off,” he explained, sitting down next to me. 

“I didn’t!” I huffed, running a hand through my hair. “I just–I just needed some space.” Josh nodded, taking in what I was saying. He was the exact definition of a good leader: someone who was brave, someone who cared, someone who was a good listener. 

“You’re allowed to have some space.” I nodded in response. The air turned still as neither of us said a word. “You know, Clancy’s just worried about you. He–We wish you would see things our way,” Josh continued. “I really think you should just sit down with him and be open to hearing what he has to say.” He was right. I really did need to have a proper conversation with Tyler–no matter how hard it seemed. Josh got up, reaching his hand out to help me up with him. “I’ll help you find him Y/N.”

“Y/N?” I questioned, wondering why he was using my proper name. 

“I think you need a little familiarity till you settle in here,” he smiled kindly, leading us toward Tyler’s tent. The sun was starting to set when we arrived back at camp. Josh motioned for me to wait while he talked to Tyler. I stood outside, looking out across the camp. It was calm, no worries of being caught out after curfew and being dragged to the bishops. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. Jenna walked by, stopping to talk to me. 

“Artemis, right? She smiled at me warmly. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Josh–Torchbearer wants me to talk to Ty–Clancy. He thinks he’ll be able to change my mind about everything,” I revealed. 

“You know,” she said, “when Clancy got here, all he talked about was you. ‘Artemis is in trouble, I have to go back for Artemis, I miss her’, and constantly begging Torchbearer to let him go back.” I hadn’t realized Tyler cared that much, that he’d missed me just as much as I had him. That he’d actually tried to go back for me. 

“Y/N you can come in now,” Josh’s voice called from inside. I looked at Jenna and before I knew it her arms were wrapped around me. 

“If you ever need anything, come find me,” she hummed. No one in Dema was ever that happy–or willing to go out of their way to help others. I didn’t even think I’d ever been that happy before–except with Tyler. I nodded, resting my chin on her shoulder. 

“You coming?” Josh stuck his head out the door. “Oh, sorry!” he pulled an apologetic face, causing me to hold in a chuckle. Jenna said a quick goodbye to me and mouthed ‘good luck’ before continuing her stroll. I smiled to myself before entering the tent. The air was getting cooler as the sun went down and soon I would need extra layers. Both Josh and Tyler  were sitting there whispering to each other and while I couldn't hear what they were saying I could 100% tell the tone of the conversation was sharp. When they realized I was standing there they immediately stopped. 

“I should go finish my rounds,” Josh said, getting up and flicking me a wink before leaving us alone. Tyler looked like he wanted him to stay–like he didn’t want to be alone with me. “Tyler–Clancy,” I started, clearly trying to communicate clearly. “Can we–”

“Stop,” he interrupted, reaching his arms out to me. “Come here.” His voice was soft but determined, full of purpose. I moved closer, allowing him to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “Before we say anything, I’m sorry that I expected you to instantly change your views about Dema. That wasn’t fair,” he sighed. 

“It’s okay. Josh helped me realize this place isn’t so bad, it’s actually kind of beautiful. And Jenna–she told me you really missed me when you first got out,” I said, watching a small smile grow on his face. 

“I did miss you, a lot.” I tilted my head so I could get a proper look at him. Tears started to well in my eyes as I grew overwhelmed at the amount of new information I’d received in the last 48 hours. “Are you okay?” Tyler brushed a strand of hair out of my face and cupped my face, a concerned look planted on his. I nodded, desperately trying to hold back the tears. “Gosh Y/N, I didn’t realize this would be so hard for you.” He used my old name as his eyes searched mine, looking for something, some sort of meaning to this. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, the cinderblock of weight pressing harder and harder with each breath I took. Shallow sobs escaped my lips as Tyler wiped the salty tears from my cheeks. 

I let out a loud sigh before speaking, “I thought you were dead Ty. I genuinely thought you were dead and I was going to have to return to Dema and tell Keons and the bishops.” I shook my head, attempting to shake the thoughts out of my head. Tyler let out comforting shushes, trying to ease the pain I was feeling. 

“Hey, hey, I’m here. I’m alive. I’ve got you here on the floor, in a tent, in Trench, away from Dema. I’ve got you. We are both here, and safe, and alive,” he hushed. Tyler always knew how to ground me when I was upset. He gently rubbed the sides of my face with his thumbs, easing me into relaxation, the tears slowly stopping. I took a deep breath, letting Trench’s clean air circulate my lungs. Maybe Tyler was right. Maybe Trench was safer than Dema. 

“Tyler?–shit sorry, Clancy?” 

Tyler chuckled under his breath. “It’s okay Y/N. We can take it slow. Tyler’s okay.”

I nodded before continuing. “I–I love you still. You know that, right?” I could feel the warmth of his breath against my face. 

“I never stopped loving you,” he replied, leaning forward and pressing his lips against mine. I could feel the desperation behind every motion. It wasn’t a long kiss, something soft and tender–a reminder of what we still had. When we broke apart, I brought my hand to the back of his neck and leant my forehead against him. 

“I think I believe you Tyler, about the bishops and Dema, all of it.”

He smiled. Things were okay. We were safe. For now at least.

//

I-/

Requests open!

[the-hidden-writer]

A Piece of True Fiction: Chapter 13

An Alan Wake 2 fic. Spoilers for Alan Wake 2!

Summary: Aleksi Kesä manages to slip out of the spiral and film he was trapped in.

Saga Anderson, caught in the middle of Wake's horror story, finds a man that looks identical to her partner in the middle of the woods. He's lost, confused, and only seems to speak Finnish. Saga has to try and uncover the truth as well as trying to save her family. Where did he come from? How did he get here?

And where's her Casey?

Chapter Summary: Saga asks Ilmo for help. Words: 2,457 AO3 Link: [Here!] [First part] [Previous part] [Next part]

A Piece of True Fiction

Chapter 13: Brotherhood

“So let me get this straight. Alex Casey, who is real and was partnered on the case with you, is trapped in the lake right now.”

“Yup.”

“And this is because the man in there, the one you busted your ass to save, is a metaphysical conjuration from the Threshold under the lake and took his place.”

“Mhmm.”

“And you’re in possession of a potential Object of Power- which is a whole other conversation we need to have, by the way- that Wake says he’s bound to and can use to ‘fix’ what you claim to be a false rewritten reality, originally written by Wake himself but edited by his, quote, ‘evil doppelgänger’?”

Saga cringes. Having the facts laid out straight in her head made everything seem straightforward, but hearing it spoken back to her starts to make her feel as crazy as she sounds. Still not as crazy as Wake, at the very least.

“If you mean the Clicker, then yeah, that's right. And I’m just passing on what Wake said,” she answers.

Estevez continues to hear her out, though not without a heavy slice of doubt.

“But you won't give it to him now because… why?”

Now that’s a question with a simple answer.

“Because I don't think losing Casey is something he wrote into his story. Maybe he can fix his own mistakes- he’d better- but I don't know how he’d be able to fix something he doesn't know anything about. Or maybe he could, but I can't risk Casey’s life like that.”

“So you want to perform a ritual on… ‘Kesä’, did you say?”

“That's right.”

“Okay, yet another paranatural crime right there but… fine, I digress. So this ritual, the one the Cult of the Tree has been performing, is one where you want to take out his heart to purposely infect him with the Shadow and somehow exchange him for Casey?”

“It’s something like that, but that's why I need to talk to Ilmo to figure out the specifics.”

Estevez shakes her head. “Okay, I can't brush that one off. Rituals are dangerous as is, but in an uncontrolled environment? This ritual is murder, Anderson.”

“He’s not real,” Saga counters, not dwelling on the way Estevez speaks of the concept of rituals with what sounds like experience.

“According to who?”

“Alan Wake.”

Estevez frowns. She takes a breath and looks Saga directly in the eye.

“I know how it all sounds,” Saga says with a wince before Estevez gets the chance to say anything. “I just don’t know what else I can do. I followed Wake’s directions with Nightingale's heart and that ritual worked, so I just need to trust that it’ll work again a second time.”

“I don’t like this, Anderson. Not one bit.”

“Neither do I,” Saga admits. “But I have to try.”

There are a few tense moments of Estevez simply staring at her. Her eyes scan over her face as if looking for something in particular. Saga shows no pretense. She doesn’t like this, but she’s determined and she’s going to try whether she gets permission or not.

Estevez seems to realize that and releases a resigned sigh. “Alright. Go talk to Koskela. You have me as backup as long as you deny my involvement, if it comes to it.”

“Thank you,” Saga says, and she means it from the bottom of her heart. She can tell that Agent Estevez must be going against her bureau’s rules by helping her, so she’s grateful for the sentiment.

Estevez shakes her head. “Just go. And be careful.”

Saga doesn’t need to be told twice. She leaves Estevez with one last grateful nod before the smile slips away from her face. It’s immediately back to business. She’s given up all hope for any sort of break until this is all over.

Or until she dies. But as long as Logan’s life is in danger, dying isn’t an option.

She enters the cell block.

Inside, the air is stale and carries the faint stench of vomit. It’s as dark as ever, though upon entering her eyes are able to make out the figure hunched-over on the bench of one of the nearer cells.

Saga approaches warily.

“I’m sorry,” a voice says from further down. Wake. “I tried eating but it’s been so long and… I-I couldn’t… I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up.”

She doesn’t have eyes on Wake, meaning he most likely doesn’t have eyes on her yet. She can hear him shuffling around, probably trying to get a look at who just walked in. This time, however, Saga isn’t interested in Wake.

Ilmo slowly lifts his head from where it had been resting on his knees to look up at her and Saga notices that he’s abandoned his hat. His eyes are red and swollen and his deep frown exudes a silent fury.

“Where is he?” he asks in a low voice.

He knows. Saga can tell that he knows about Jaakko. She doesn’t know how he knows, whether it be through supernatural means or simply the instincts of an identical twin, but he knows. 

She won’t hide it from him.

“I’m sorry,” is all she says.

“Saga?” Wake calls suddenly, his voice immediately perking up. “Is that you? Did you find the Clicker?”

Saga just observes Ilmo like a hawk, as if he’s the only other person in the room. The man is eerily silent.

Then he slams the metal cot with his fist with a loud clang and swears loudly, before a sob bursts out of him and he begins to mutter mournfully to himself in Finnish.

“I’m sorry,” Saga says again. Her twisted heart constricts even more because she’d been there at the time, and the guilt of not being able to save Jaakko returns full-swing as she watches his brother react to the news. In any FBI case, not just this one, informing the family of any deceased is the hardest part. Especially as a mother herself.

Ilmo wipes a hand over his face, leaving a slight sheen on his skin. He stands and walks over toward the bars. Saga has to once again fight the urge to take a step back. It’s surprising how much a hat (or, lack of) can change a person’s energy.

His fingers curl around the metal bars and he presses his face against them.

“How?” he grits out.

“He fell into Huotari Well,” Saga answers honestly. Her skin prickles from the tension in the limited space between the two of them. He's still acting in an aggressive way that seems strange to her, but she lets it slide knowing that grief can change a person. Ilmo curses again. He takes a few steps away from the bars and Saga releases the breath she’d been holding. 

Alan calls out to her again. She continues to ignore him.

“I am truly, truly sorry, Ilmo. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.”

His eyes snap up to meet hers alongside a curt response. “No, you can’t.”

She’s sure he didn’t mean it, but the comment pierces into her heart and cracks it open like an eggshell, revealing her suppressed emotion hidden inside. She does understand. Her daughter, her only child, is dead because of this stupid fucking story. She knows the feeling and, though she’d said she didn’t at first to be polite, anyone insinuating that she doesn’t makes her very, very angry.

Straight away, she quenches the feeling. She has to keep a clear head. She forces herself to speak levelly.

“I promise I’ll give you time to mourn later, but right now I really need your help. I need to perform a ritual.”

That seems to catch Ilmo’s attention. “What?”

“Saga?” Alan calls inquisitively. Saga can see him peering through the bars.

Ilmo also glances in his direction and sends him a scowl (was that a growl? What’s going on with him?) before turning back to Saga, suspicious. “Why? What sort of ritual, what are you doing?”

“The ritual with the heart that the cult have been doing. I need to give someone to the Dark Presence and have them be Taken to get someone back in return.”

Ilmo, tear-stricken face and all, looks at her with utter incredulousness.

“Okay, now I’m confused. You said like a whole three different things there.”

It’s Saga’s turn to feel confused. “What do you mean?”

“The ritual we’ve been doing involves a heart, sure,” Ilmo explains, “but why do you want to make Taken? The heart ritual is to kill them using the switch- or the Clicker, I guess. The second they emerge from the lake, we kill them. We protect the community. We're the good guys. What kind of a cult calls themselves a cult?”

That… makes a lot of pieces fall into place. Things hadn’t been lining up in Saga’s Mind Place, although reframing all the evidence with the idea that the Cult of the Tree were killing Taken helps it make much more sense.

“And if you’re trying to trade in one person for another, then uh… that’s a whole other thing.”

“That’s the one I need.” Saga says with no hesitation.

Ilmo visibly pales, even under the darkness of the cell block. “Uh… are you sure?”

“Does it involve dropping a heart into a well?”

“Well… yeah, but-”

“Then I’m sure.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Alan shouts, his timid confusion finally erupting into explosive anger.

Saga approaches his cell. This time, Ilmo calls after her. “Wait, Saga-"

“I’m getting Casey back,” she tells Wake plainly. “After that, I’ll do as you say so you can bring back my daughter. And Ilmo’s brother.”

“You’re wasting time,” Alan hisses. “I can fix everything if you just give me the Clicker. It’ll let me rewrite reality to whatever you want, it’ll solve everything, just find it and get it to me. And what was that about a ritual?”

“You don’t remember telling me?”

All of Wake’s built up anger seems to evaporate in an instant. “I… huh?”

“I can’t help you.” Ilmo says suddenly, pulling Saga’s attention back toward him.

“You have to,” she says, hurrying back in his direction.

He shakes his head. “No, I can’t. It’s not because I don’t want to help you, I just can’t.”

“Why not?” Saga struggles to mask the frustration in her voice. This isn’t a hurdle she’d been expecting to face.

Ilmo sighs and scratches at his chin. “Okay, this might sound crazy, but Jaakko and I have dreams. Dreams where we’re, uh…”

“Not yourselves?” Saga finishes. “Jaakko explained it to me.”

She watches as Ilmo’s eyes well up with tears and he swallows down his emotion. When he next speaks, his voice is thick. 

“We’ve been fighting,” he says. “I’ve been fighting to not be that man. And that ritual, the one with the heart and the well, I’ve seen it in my dreams. That’s why I can’t help you, Saga. I’m already… I didn’t mean to punch that guy, you tell him that. I just don't want it taking hold of me. I can’t be that man. ”

Saga can see where he’s coming from. She really wants to be able to leave him alone and mourn, but she needs his help. Does she feel guilty and slightly selfish? Yes, she does. At the end of the day, Casey is one man compared to the many that Wake could save if she just gave him the Clicker now.

Except that one man is Casey. It’s the textbook trolley problem and she’s trying to save everyone on those tracks. The odds aren’t in her favor, but she’s going to try. If that means Ilmo has to leave his comfort zone and Estevez has to break a few rules, so be it.

“You won’t be. You aren’t. You won’t have to do it all yourself, I’ll help you where I can. What are the steps?”

She doesn't voice her inner thought that Ilmo is already acting in a more aggressive manner.

Ilmo shifts uncomfortably. “I mean… I guess you’re right. The one in the dream is pretty unique, anyways. It needed a specific guy- the, um… right, the steps. Pretty straightforward. Cut out the heart while he’s- uh, they’re still alive, recite the chant, drop the heart into the well. Sacrifice vanishes and the rescued rises up.” He pauses. “Saga, are you planning on killing someone?”

“Someone that’s already becoming Taken.” It’s a lie, but it’s easier than explaining everything that’s going on with Kesä in one succinct sentence. Plus, if she phrases it like this, it might make Ilmo more inclined to help her.

“Right…” He still sounds hesitant. 

Saga quickly changes the subject. “What’s the chant?”

“In the dream, it’s Finnish. In English it would be something like, um… ‘This is the ritual to lead you on. He returns and you’re locked in the room in turn.’”

All of Saga’s own hesitation about the ritual vanishes at that moment, replaced with relief and a bolster of determination. That’s exactly what she needs and is exactly what the other Wake described. Casey back and Kesä locked back in the Dark Place. She’s on the right track.

“I don’t want to do this, Saga.” Ilmo breaks through her thoughts.

“You’re performing a ritual?” Wake cuts in. “I swear there was something like that… I just can’t fucking remember…”

Saga leaves him to his rambling and tries her best to convey reassurance to the tense Ilmo. “I’ll be in your debt if you help me with this, Ilmo. Then we’ll talk things through and I’ll hear you out about what you and the cult were trying to do.”

“What?!” Alan yelps.

It seems to be against his own better judgment, but eventually Ilmo nods. “Fine, I’ll help. As long as you promise to stop me if I start acting like someone else. I have to be Ilmo Koskela.”

Despite everything, Saga gives him a small smile. “I promise. Thanks, Ilmo Koskela. I’ll have Agent Estevez talk to you about the specifics. I just need to make a quick stop at the nursing home, then we’ll make our way to Coffee World.”

She still fully intends to visit Tor and Odin. It had been her plan originally and Ahti mentioning it gave her the push she needed to actually complete that task.

Ilmo somehow looks even more uneasy at the prospect. “Coffee World? Huotari Well? Fuck, out of all places… You’d better make good on that promise.”

“I will. I’ll see you soon, Ilmo.”

Wake yells after her as she starts to leave. “Saga, wait! This isn’t right!”

Saga leaves. Until she’s ready to hand over the Clicker, she has nothing more to say to him.

aka the one where alan is kept out of the loop (literally? hmmm)

Thanks for reading!

[ask-team-misfit]

(@ask-the-shiny-pokemons) Noelle @ Lief:

"Hey. As far I don't like ya buggin' Rim, I'm gonna put a truth'n'dare game for ya.

Here the truth: What is least favorite berry and why? Seems you like them very much, yea?"

[ @ask-the-shiny-pokemons ]

Lief: "Going easy on me, I see... don't answer that."

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief, a hybrid of Sylveon and Ribombee, with a mono-color background. He is shown from the neck up, with his face slightly angled away from the viewer towards the left. He looks puzzled, or curious. His left eyebrow is noticeably raised, while his right eyelid is lowered somewhat. He is frowning visibly. An angular question mark is floating next to his head at the left. End ID ]

Lief: "Well, I like them enough. But my least favorite berry? It's durin."

He cringed at the thought of them.

Lief: "Never had much of them because they really only grow in the jungle, but those few were all I need to know that durin is the worst berry I had ever tried. I don't even care that it's bitter, it just stinks... It really, really stinks."

[daydreamingatnight209]

Hi everyone! I’m so sorry that I haven’t been writing for awhile, I’m still at university and it is very intense and stressful. I’m hoping to get back into writing properly soon and actively enjoy it again but please if you can be patient.

I will do best with requests but you are welcome to ask others if you feel like I am taking too long, I will understand , just please let me know ☺️

In the meantime please enjoy this new piece! It admittedly isn’t my best but I am still trying to find my groove.

Feedback is always welcome! (Hate is not - if you don’t like what I write don’t read) ✨💕

“I am so in love with you”

MGK x Reader

Warnings - mentions of feelings and jealously? Fluff 💕

—————————————————

Jealously was an ugly emotion and jealously didn’t look good on you at all.

He was your best friend.

You had known him for years, watched his up, downs and his road to success. You watched him do it all while raising his daughter, helping him along the way but still, you were just a friend.

You had no right into his love life and normally you wouldn’t care - men can be a huge headache and one you could do without, but recently watching as these women throw themselves at Colson continuously stirred that ugly emotion up inside of you.

Being around him suddenly became very difficult. Your friendship has always been affectionate but now every time he pulls you in for a hug, sits to close to you on the sofa or takes your hand, you find yourself wanting more.

Wanting to be the person who gets to sleep beside him every night, the person that holds him after a long day and the person he says I love you too for the rest of your life.

Simply wanting something you never believed you could have.

After a particularly stressful day of actively avoiding your best friend while he was in the studio you find refuge in your bedroom and fish out your phone to discuss your dilemma with a friend outside of the MGK social group.

Y/F/N answers the call on the second ring and can tell immediately what this about. Their advice is always the same. Tell him how you feel.

You can’t help but snort at this.

“Oh yeah because me popping up and being like - I know I told you i wasn't looking for love but then I kinda fell in love with you, will go down brilliantly” you roll your eyes but then back look down and your friend as she goes strangely quiet.

You feel a sudden present lurking behind you and feel the colour drain from your face.

Colson is stood in your doorway, shock present in his features.

Your body releases a sharp gasp as your leg jerks and slams the bedroom door shut.

You cringe internally at the whole interaction and try to steady your breathing.

Colson heard your entire confession…

After a while you think it’s safe and go to stand up from the corner of the room you had been hiding in but you freeze again as there is a knock against the door.

Colson’s soft voice follows just after.

“Y/N can we talk?”

You knew you couldn’t hide from this forever.

Finding comfort in a blanket from your bed, you wrap it around your frame and inch towards the door, opening it and allowing the famous rapper into your space.

You didn’t say anything as his sits down slowly on the bed, allowing you speak.

When you couldn’t find the words, Colson asks one question.

“Did you mean it?”

You nod in response but when he doesn’t say anything else you begin to feel as if being truthful wasn’t the right answer.

"I'm so so sorry oh my god i definitely shouldn’t of said anything, ah god! If you don't even want to talk to me again i get it -“

You couldn’t stop the word vomit spilling from your mouth even if you tried, that was until Colson surged from the bed and took your head into his large hards. He caresses your face gently and whispers “tell me, I need you to tell me”

Your hand shakes as you place it over his heart. He places his hand over yours and takes a deep breath.

You look into his ocean blue eyes and say the words that have been swarming in your head for months.

“I am so in love with you”