#this loser is avoiding me like the plague

[milkteataro-chan]

he’s so cute i really need to get him.

[tiangouaway]

i wanna meet more ppl into wuwa but i really only care about design and gameplay... plus most of the community aint my style lmao

[konigsblog]

If this video doesn't scream Loser!König, then I don't know what does. (🌽 link)

MDNI 18+ — GETTING LOSER!KÖNIG OFF.

König wouldn't dare turn down your generous offer. Women avoid König like the plague, act as if he's infectious and contagious, and snarl at him when he attempts to engage in a conversation. Perhaps, it's due to his unsightly appearance, not fitting the ideal beauty standards with a large, Roman nose and scars littering his pale, freckled skin.

You? You're entertained, amused by his creepiness. Sure, he's pushy and has no concept of social cues and what's acceptable and what not — that it's highly inappropriate to plead with women for sex nonstop. He's nothing but humiliated the next morning after coming to the realisation of his sick behaviour.

König could barely string a coherent sentence together at your offer. König could only dream of this moment. He craves and longs for a woman's touch, to be held and toyed with, to feel your soft hands around his large, hung cock. But, he sure as hell wasn't going to miss out on an opportunity like this, that's for sure. It didn't take long for König to unfasten his belt and jeans, already pulling his hefty, growing boner from the tightness of his boxers. You grinned eagerly, admiring the sight of his lengthy, hard cock in front of you, with his breathing out of control and laborious.

“Please, give it to me, Mauschen...” He managed to huff out between strained groans. Your smaller fingers wrapped around the base of his girthy boner, with your lips pressed against his sticky tip. You giggled, your tongue collecting the pearly beads of arousal that oozed from his head. He whined, earning yourself an animalistic growl from the giant before you. He bucked into your hands desperately, with the texture of your skin leaving him delirious, especially in comparison to his rough, scarred hands. He heaved and panted like a filthy mutt in heat, choking on his words with each delicate, gentle, and careful stroke to his weeping dick. “Heilige Scheiße, mehr, gib mir mehr...–”

He's hypnotised each stroke, the gentleness and care in your touch, your sweet words, and the tender and playful kisses to the tip of his creamy dick. Fuck, look what you've done. He's attached now, little mouse, and he'll make sure he gets more, that's for sure.

[rueclfer]

Can I request a best friends brother touya plssss :)

Ur loser Touya who, canon to your fics, writes in a diary journal is so good and needs a comeback 😭💗

Okay thank you byyyyyeee :P

god i love todosiblings tomfoolery in touya fics!!!! ily anon thank u for loving this loser as much as i do

open up the door // touya todoroki

“Knock knock.” The voice interrupts yours and Fuyumi’s chatter from the other side of her bedroom door.

“What?” Fuyumi calls out, cueing Touya to poke his head through the cracked door, eyes meeting her before your own, in which you quickly darted away. “Can we help you?”

“Yeah, you can actually.” He returns the tone, fully swinging the door open, leaning against the frame. “I hear you losers giggling and shit from all the way down the hall. Don’t you think you two should shut up and go to sleep?”

You look him up and down, eyeing the stretched out flannel pajama pants hanging low on his hips and distressed band tee over his lanky frame. The glossy sheen over his eyes and the state of his hair made it apparent that he had just rolled out of bed, woken up from yours and Fuyumi’s night time antics and gossip.

“It’s barely 12am on a Friday night, Touya.” You cock your eyebrow at him. “Nothing more important to do than to bother us?”

“Tell me, Y/N, what exactly am I interrupting?” He walks into the room, being careful to step over the scattered containers of various beads, rolls of string, and a couple pairs haphazardly throw scissors laying across the floor. “Friendship bracelets? Are you guys 12?” 

You were laying on the floor on your stomach as he approached you and stepped over you with a leg on each side. Touya leans down and looks past your head to see the unfinished bracelet in your hands.

“Whatcha spelling out, huh?” 

“Fuck off.” You huff, slapping his calf to shoo him away.

“Leave us alone” Fuyumi groans. “We’re gonna go to sleep right now, okay?”

“Sleep, don’t sleep, I don’t give a fuck. Just be quiet. Especially you, loudmouth.” He flicks the back of your head before stepping over you towards the door, clicking it behind him.

You and Fuyumi meet each other’s eyes before simultaneously letting out an annoyed sigh.

“Sorry, you know how he is.” Fuyumi huffs. “He’s so annoying sometimes.”

You had a long standing relationship with the Todoroki family. Your friendship with Fuyumi flourished in middle school when you had accidentally snapped her glasses in half during gym class. Luckily, for you two, you were a wizard with duct tape which had not only effectively fixed her frames, but made you two inseparable since. 

“Sometimes?” You scoff, beginning to shove the craft supplies to the side, making room for your floor mattress. “I was seriously planning on marrying into the family one way or another, but you gave me some shit options, Fuy. Introduce me to a cousin or something.

“Settle for him to be with me forever.” She sighs dramatically and shoots you a pout. “If you really loved me, you would.”

Another thing that lingered since you two were kids- the concept of setting you up with her older brother. The idea had always seemed so perfect for her. There you were, someone who got along with the family, the sister she never had, and most importantly, was “good enough” for her brother, who notoriously had a shitty dating history. However, Fuyumi’s fantasy quickly crumbled midway through high school, when Touya suddenly decided that he was too good for anyone- especially his little sister’s best friend.

“Touya’s a fucking prick, Fuy. I really do want to beat the fuck out of him, no joke, and I’m pretty sure the feelings are mutual.”

“Watch it!” She scolds you. “He’s not that bad, or at least not as bad as he used to be.”

“Not as bad? ‘Hey ugly’ is his go-to greeting for me. He acts like my presence is the most inconveniencing thing ever. If we're alone in the same room, he'll avoid me like the plague and then once there's anyone else around, suddenly he wants to annoy me at any given chance.”

“He’s going through a life crisis or something. Be nice.” She warns. “Or else I’ll kick both of your asses. Wake me if you’re up before me, okay? But only if it’s after 10am.” She yawns. “Goodnight.”

“Yeah whatever, g'night." You say and roll your eyes, knowing that you will definitely not be waking her up.

Now with the lights off and you two in your respective beds, all you could do is look up at the glow in the dark stars plastered to the ceiling, and think back on all of your interactions with Touya from the moment you met him to now- from your raging infatuation with him when you first met as children to the growing resentment and annoyance into your late teens.

-

The glaring sunbeam peaking through the curtains hit you right in the eye, effectively waking you up from your deep sleep. Your phone reads 6:54AM. You mentally groaned to yourself before rolling out of your mattress, exiting the dark bedroom with a soft click of the door behind you. On an early Saturday morning like this, the Todoroki household had its rare moments of silent solitude

Padding your way to the bathroom, you were still in a drowsy state, eyes lidded, and the heaviness of a deep sleep weighing on your shoulders. Once the door shuts behind you, you lean against the kitchen sink and rub the sleepiness from your eyes,

"The fuck, Y/N?" The familiar voice snaps you awake. Your vision focuses on the figure standing near the shower. "You pervert, what do you think you're doing?" He exclaims with a growing amused smile.

"Jesus, Touya!" You exclaim, taking a step back against the door. "Ever use a fucking lock before?" You lowly huff, trying to keep your volume down.

"Why would I when no one's ever up this early? Don't you walk around with your eyes open?"

"I just woke up like two seconds ago." You groan. "Why are you just hanging out in the bathroom?"

"Well I was going to shower. Unless you're here to 'beat the fuck out of me?'" He leans against the wall, arms crossed.

"Listening in on our conversation? Who's the pervert now?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Involuntarily, with your loud mouth and all." He takes a step closer, almost closing the gap and leaving just mere inches of space between you two. "Sounds like you don't like me very much, huh? What happened to that little crush in middle school?" He kept his voice low.

"Fizzled out a long time ago when you started thinking you were too cool for everyone." You press your finger against the middle of his chest. "You're full of yourself, stuck up, infuriating to be around, and you have no reason to not like me when we've known each other for damn near a decade. You're such a dick for no reason."

"You done?" His amused smile grew even wider, making the fury in your stomach grow stronger. "Because I don't have to explain shit to you."

You rub your face in your hands in frustration. "You know what you act like? A 13 year old who thinks being mean to his crush makes them like you back." You cross your arms, almost tip-toeing your way closer to his face. "That must be it, huh? Can't navigate your feelings?"

Touya bit the inside of his cheek.

Before he could retaliate with another venom filled comment, someone on the other side of the door was knocking. Had you two been so loud this early in the morning?

"Y/N?" You recognized the groggy voice. "Are you in there? Can I come in?"

You froze and quickly realized how the situation looked- you and Touya almost pressed up against each other in the bathroom. Alone. After you had just told her all about your disdain for her brother the night before.

You locked your eyes with him. He opened his mouth, ready to respond in your place, in which you quickly slammed your hand over his mouth, and the other on his shoulder. You start pushing him back towards the shower.

"Yeah! I'm in here, give me a second!" You called out over your shoulder.

"What are you doing?" He mouths, taking a step into the shower before he could trip over the ledge.

"Shut up." You whisper back, closing the shower curtain. "Stay." You warn.

You took a glance at yourself in the mirror, silently hoping Fuyumi doesn't notice your flushed cheeks.

"Sorry I was getting ready to shower. Was I being too loud?" You open the door to see her sleepy state of lidded eyes and tousled hair.

"No." She yawns. "I got a migraine, I just need my medication."

You step aside for her to dig through the medicine cabinet for a moment, sending subtle glances to the shower every now and then, hoping Touya doesn't decide to make an appearance.

"By the way," She mumbles. "I was serious about last night. Be nice to Touya, okay? You know he kinda has a crush on you."

"What?" You exclaim a bit too loudly, slapping your hand over your mouth.

She shushes you, putting her finger over her mouth. "You'll wake him. He's a light sleeper." She warns. "But yeah, Natsuo read his diary last week and told me. I think I kinda knew though, since he's so emotionally constipated." She softly chuckles, lightly shaking the migraine medication into her palm.

"What the fuck, Fuyumi?" Your mouth hung open. "Diary? You tell me this now?"

"Well I didn't realize how much you disliked him." She smiles. "Just thought you should know. We'll talk more later, though. I'm going back to sleep. Think about it, and have a good shower."

"Okay.. thanks." You mumble, closing the door behind her.

If you really wanted to, you could let yourself feel mortified for Touya and make an agreement to pretend like that conversation didn't just happen, but you could feel the disgusting pride and ego growing larger by the second as you digested this new information.

Touya rips the shower curtain to the side, stepping out of the shower with a new layer of blush dusted over his cheeks and his wide eyes filled with embarrassment.

"Shut up." He huffs, running a hand through his hair.

"Didn't say anything." You shrug, pressing your lips together to suppress a smirk.

"Keep it that way, then."

He begins to make his way towards the door, in which you promptly block with your body.

"Y/N. Move." He demands, one hand on the handle and the other pressed against the door next to your head.

"Guess I got you figured out after all. You write about me in your diary often?" Your let your smirk grow. "You'd have better luck if you were nicer to your crush, don't you think?"

You could see that pompous facade of his crumble by the second with the way he bit down on his lower lip, cheeks growing into a deeper shade of red, and eyes darting away to avoid your own.

"It's a fucking journal. Not a diary. Let me out. I'm going to go smother that fucking brat with his own pillow."

"Why don't we unpack this here, instead?" You lean back onto the door, preventing him from pulling it open. "If you like me so much, why are you such a dick?"

A beat of silence passes as he releases a long sigh.

"I-" He starts, staring down at you with a sheepish expression. "don't mean to be an asshole. I just get nervous, okay?" His voice falters towards the end.

You cock an eyebrow at him. "Nervous? How does that make sense or justify anything?"

"Because I can't think straight whenever you're around. Which is all the fucking time."

You didn't think far enough ahead as to how you could navigate this. You questioned if this could even be considered a confession or where things would go between you two when you eventually let him out of the bathroom.

"We were fine when we were kids, though?"

"I didn't like you when we were kids." He huffs.

"So a few years ago? When you started acting like an ass?"

"I guess." He mutters. "Can you move over now?"

"I give you one chance." You cross your arms.

"Huh?"

"To apologize, confess and ask me out. Properly."

"Right now?" His eyes widened, mouth gaped open.

"Yup, or forever hold your peace and watch me get with one of your cousins or something."

"You'd actually go out with me?" He asks under his breath.

"Ask me and find out." You shrug.

He pressed his lips together, continuing to stare down at you with furrowed brows- of course you stared back in annoyance. You thought that he already had the easy way out, thanks to Fuyumi, so this hesitation only made you more anxious.

A voice in the back of your head had started pounding through the front. It was your 10 year old self. They're making your stomach twist in anticipation. They're making your heart race. They're making your hands clam up. They're hoping he'd do it.

But he wasn't.

"Okay, guess not then. I'm leaving." You suddenly blurt out, turning to grab the handle.

"Wait." He places his hand over the door frame, preventing it from pulling open. "Give me a fucking second okay? I feel like I can barely breathe."

He puts both hands on your shoulder, expelling a long breath of air to the side. You tense at the sudden physical contact, feeling the warmth of the palms of his hands melt into you.

"I'm sorry for being a dick to you. I'm sorry for not knowing how to act around you. I'm not sure I deserve it, but can you... give me a chance?" He spills out through clenched teeth, all in one breath.

His face was still flushed and expression was almost pained. You knew you backed him up in a corner but if he had this crush for a few years, was he ever planning on telling you?

"I know you had a crush on me when we first met as kids, and I know you definitely don't anymore, but if you want to give me a chance then I guess that would be.. cool." He sheepishly says, sucking in the inside of his cheek.

"You guess?" You cock your head to the side.

"You're fucking killing me, Y/N. That's seriously the best I can do at 7am right now." He deadpans. "Yes or no- before I start panicking."

You pause for a moment, taking in the weight of his hands on your shoulder and intense eye contact.

"I'll go out with you."

"Really?" His eyes widen, and grip tightening. "After everything? You will?"

You nod your head, slightly taken off guard by his surprise.

"Cool. Cool. Okay." He takes a step back, bringing his hands back to his side and shoving them in his pajama pants pocket, giving you space to take your exit. "Um. I'll keep you updated on that date then? When I figure it out?" He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"Cool." You say, still standing idly.

"Cool." He responds, pressing his lips together in a tight line

"Don't make it weird, okay?" You huff. "I don't want to tell Fuy yet."

"No weirdness here." He awkwardly smiles, now fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Okay we're done here." You teasingly roll your eyes. "You're being weird, so I'm leaving. See you in a few hours, loser."

You two exchanged shy smiles and glances before you made your exit, letting out an audible breath of air after shutting the door behind you. Later that morning, after his shower and getting ready for the day, Touya would find a beaded bracelet hanging on his bedroom's door handle, reading "T O U Y A < 3" in which he slipped over his wrist and would glance down at all day, reminding himself not to fuck it up.

[hexnoia]

📎 jake sim — confession texts

jake accidentally confessed to you and is now avoiding you like the plague, but you're having none of it.

jake x gn!reader ; friends to lovers?? ; jakes very dense and down bad but also a loser lol ; a bit long and a lot of rambling

a/n: this is basically a pt. 2 of my last post that you can read here and even though it makes a bit of sense by itself, i highly suggest u read that first !!

a/n: heyyyy im back so soon😁 hehe this was a request but i mightve got a bit carried awayyyy oops i just love jake so bad and this concept was speaking to me, so i hope you enjoy it !! i have a bit of free time so i might whip up some other posts im just out of ideas😭😭 see you <3

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

the reader has each time that a member of her family tries to create a bond with her:I am not your pet, I never liked you, I don't care about you I won't wait for you. I hate you.

Yum, good soup!

They'll do anything to spend time with him. Bruce has never watched anime in his life, but you love *Ouran High School Host Club* and *Soul Eater*. With no choice, you watch with him, only for him to ask fifty or more questions. And you always end up leaving him behind in the dust. But he's trying; you're still his baby, even if you side with him like that.

Dick always wanted to help you out with your like a big brother should, showing you the way, but you growl like a wild animal if he gets close to curls. Sure, you let him put growth oil in your cornrows, but that's all he'll ever do. You avoid that man like he has cheese touch.

Jason hasn't been a teen in forever, maybe reading a comic or two and bonding with you about how stupid comics draw women or how ugly the super-realistic style is, just for readers to roll their eyes every time he speaks. Why is he talking to me? Come on, laugh at his jokes; he knows you, he's funny. Come in and giggle!

Tim, you both are nerds. Why don’t you guys play some D&D? "Nah, I have my own party." Tekken 8? Nah, you prefer MK. Come on, just hang out with him! Geeks stick together, but for some reason, you’d rather play with random online players. He’s literally the superior player, and he’s way cooler and funnier, so don’t ditch him for your friends—he's a better rival!

Damian, please, oh, please let him hang out with you. Let him be a little brother; let him ride on your back. Let him play video games with you. Let him come to your room when you have a night in, but you refuse; you blow him off like the plague. Don’t tell him you’re not free—he tracked your schedule!

Stephanie, let's go shopping, paint each other's nails, talk about our crazy crushes, go shopping, and max out Bruce's cards. Oh, you're busy? That's cool. Wait, all your friends are hanging out together, and you're going to Chuck E. Cheese? Why don't you let her join? Oh, you guys were planning this and you don't have an extra space? Maybe next time you'll spend time with your favorite gal pal.

Cass will psychoanalyze all the shonen you've ever watched. Even if it's unrealistic and people don't scream for 15 minutes and suddenly get powerful in the show. Oh, Kengan Ashura! Tell her about the lore and all the fighters; please talk to her about it. She'll pose like the fighters and recreate the moves for you. Come on, just hang out with her. She won't talk, or she'll talk your ear off, but your face of indifference tells her you really don't care; you'd rather watch something else. Fine, Cass will watch it with you.

Duke, come chill with him. Sure, you guys have only had two conversations, and so what? You can't have more? Listen to Kendrick with him; why don't you both bond over not liking and hating on Drake? Schoolboy Q shit. He'll even play Doechii's Chromakopia is out. Let's rap to Sticky. You don't fuck with that? Oh, it's cool; he'll listen to whatever you like. He'll do whatever you like! You guys can watch Boondocks together and make random references that only you two understand. Let him give you a retwist. Let him be your brother, but you'd rather hang out with some loser from your school? What's that about?

[roanofarcc]

ONE DANCE, PLEASE?

pairing: trevor lefkowitz x ghost bride!reader

summary: since your death, weddings at Woodstone have been a source of bitterness for you but that doesn’t stop trevor from attempting to cheer you up with a dance

word count. 1.6k || masterlist

warnings: fem!reader, mentions of death, dead!reader

a/n: this is my first ghosts fic so please be gentle! I love the idea of a ghost bride and debated on making it into an OC or reader story. I think I like having it be in little one-shots! it’s a crime more hasn’t been written for trevor (or any of the show’s characters). feel free to request for trevor or any other ghosts characters <3

“Are you going to mope around for eternity?” Sasappis asked you, standing arms crossed in front of a beautiful garden decorated to the nines. The backdrop to your sulking was stunning flowers tied in bunches and pastel dresses moving around the patio-turned-dance floor. 

“Is that not the point of being a ghost?” you replied, jutting out your feet forever stuck in kitten heels and skin-colored pantyhose. Sass lightly kicked your foot with his and nodded his head to the corner just off the dance floor where the rest of the ghosts danced and laughed. A part of you was jealous of how easily they enjoyed themselves at weddings and how they were not plagued with an eternal hatred for them and what they represented. 

It always felt like a cruel joke, even though it never had anything to do with you, when Sam and Jay hosted a wedding at their B&B. As much as you loved the couple, you couldn’t stand what most considered a joyous event. The union of two people in love, not tainted by tragedy, grew your restatement each time. Weddings were a part of the business and helped Sam and Jay bring in the money they desperately needed to fix up the mansion, but that didn’t mean you had to enjoy yourself. Instead, you spent each event sulking on the sidelines, ignoring the pang in your chest, and avoiding your ghostly counterparts' advances to cheer you up. The only thing that would’ve cheered you up was a do-over of your big day that was ruined by a strike of unluckiness, resulting in your untimely death.  

Sass narrowed his gaze at you but decided against saying whatever he wanted to. Instead, he turned on his heel and headed back to the ghosts. You adverted your gaze back down to the beads sewn into your dress, picking at them with the wish you could pull the garment apart with your hands, but since it was what you died in, it would forever stick to you. 

A slow song played through the DJ’s speakers as the sun slowly began to set over the yard. Strung lights glittered warmly, bathing the attendees in a golden glow. The bride had looked radiant since she arrived at the mansion days ago, and all day you had to watch her and her husband’s love run circles around you. Your malice wasn’t aimed directly at the happy couple, but rather at what they represented and the reminder of what you almost had. 

Someone appeared beside you, their presence clouding your solitude-sulking. “What a bunch of losers,” the person said, causing you to turn your head and meet Trevor. “I mean, seriously, this song was lame when I went to weddings and people are still dancing to it? I get the appeal of throwbacks but let’s pick this snooze-fest up a little, am I right?” 

You rolled your eyes. “What do you know about weddings?” 

“I happen to have been invited to a lot of them, thank you very much. Well, the receptions and bachelor parties, usually. Those weddings had a lot more alcohol and single bridesmaids.” You said nothing in response, hoping your dimly lit mood would shoo Trevor away. You were mistaken, though. If anything, your silence only encouraged him further. He moved in closer to your side, standing with his hands on his hips as he gazed out across the crowd. “I think they may need some help livening things up a bit. Care to join me?” 

He often tried to do that, brighten your mood by offering to dance with you. And every time you turn him down, not because you didn't want to, but because you’re worried that the second you start to enjoy yourself at a wedding, tragedy will follow a second time around. You liked Trevor and couldn’t stand the thought of enjoying yourself only to hurt yourself, again, or him. In your head, as long as you moped around, everything would stay the same as they were, which you loved more than you’d admit aloud. You liked your ghost-mates and you liked Sam and Jay. If you somehow brought some unfortunate curse upon any of them because you enjoyed yourself just as you had on your own wedding day, you weren’t sure you could cope with that a second time around, not when you hardly coped with it from the first time. 

“Trevor…” you sighed, defeated and slumped-shouldered. 

Normally, he dropped it after that. He usually sat quietly at your side until his excitement and urge to join the party overwhelmed him and he resumed dancing with Flower or attempting to play pranks on the livings with Thorfinn. That time, however, he took you by surprise. He moved directly in front of you, face set with a certain tone of seriousness that was odd. 

“Nope,” he said, simply. “You are not moping for eternity. I won’t let you.” 

“That’s not your choice.” 

He smirked, cheekily and annoying but stupidly charming. Those three words suited him too well. Trevor extended his hand out, making a grabbing motion with his hand. “One dance, that’s all I’m askin’. That’s all I need to change your mind.” You tightened your grip on the skirt of your dress, unbudging at his request. “One dance. Please?” His voice was a little lower, pleading almost. 

One dance. You never got to dance at your wedding. Something bad could happen, it probably would. 

Trevor’s fingers grazed your knuckles, tapping them lightly and looking at you in a way, underneath the golden light, that made you consider it. He noticed your hesitation and dropped his hand back down at his side. 

“Okay,” he said after a beat before he turned away with a little frown on his lips that made you feel even worse. 

There was something wrong with you, maybe it was some kind of ghostly side effect of dying on your wedding day; perhaps you were doomed to live in the murky waters of what-if and why. 

The bride and groom were in the middle of the patio dance floor, spinning each other around in quiet fits of laughter and bodies pressed as close as they could get with the bride’s fluffy dress. They were married, dancing as two halves of a whole with nothing bad lingering over their heads. There was no impending doom, aside from you sitting on the outskirts. The doom was you and your mind, rippled with jealousy, sadness, and a million questions of what exactly you could have done differently that day. But the truth was, there was nothing you could have done. Fate was fate, as Flower had once said in one of her more insightful conversations. Fate was messy and included bear attacks, arrows in necks, and accidents. Fate found you there, at the Woodstone mansion forever a fiancee but now entangled with the fates of your ghost friends who also found themselves there forever. 

Forever was such a long, made even longer with eternity hanging on your shoulders. How many more weddings would you sit there, watching and sulking in your own unhappiness that others wanted to fix for you? 

Something between a groan and a sigh left your lips as you stood up, letting your wedding dress fall back down to the ground in the pristine condition you had died in it in. “Trevor,” you said again, louder as you called after him. He stopped, slowly turning around with a confused quirk of his brow. You nervously picked at the beads again, but that time wasn’t to pick them off but rather settle them back in place in a similar way to how you had picked at them awaiting your turn to walk down the aisle. A dance was not nearly as monumental as that, but it carried a weight that pressed down on your chest. 

“One dance,” you said. He stared at you for a moment like he wasn’t sure he had heard you right. It wasn’t until Thor punched him in the arm with a hardy laugh and Hetty pushed him forward towards you. 

Trevor approached you, smoothing out his tie. “Really?” he asked. 

You nodded. “If anything bad happens, I’m blaming it on you," you said only half joking.

He smiled, wide and toothy and the way that made you subconsciously want to copy it. “The worst thing that’ll happen is me stepping on your feet. I haven’t slow danced since prom.” Despite that, he dramatically bowed and extended his hand. “May I have this dance,” he said in a terrible accent. You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, some of that weight lifting from where it hurt your chest. 

Once you accepted his hand, he all but dragged you to a quiet corner of the dance floor, away from where any livings would walk through you two, and away from the other ghosts and their suggestive smirks and comments pointed at the two of you. 

When you danced, with his feet clumsily trying to avoid stepping on yours and hands rested on your waist, nothing bad happened. You did not die a second time around, nor did tragedy strike in the way you feared. The only thing that occurred was dancing, peppered with occasional laughter and a quick apology when Trevor stepped on your skirt and halted your movements. You recovered with a shake of your head and a slight lead in the dance, which he didn’t voice but silently appreciated.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Press One for Love, Two for Regret

Chapter 3

Summary: Proper confessions should never happen over the phone. Viktor knows that. So how did he get here?

Pairing: Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 5.3K

Warning: Mature (mentions of explicit content, explicit in last chapter)

Notes: Yup, this started from a silly lil 1K prompt, don't ask me what happened, I wouldn't be able to say either. This chapter is pretty heavy on feelings, self-reflection and angst, but I think y'all will find it enjoyable ❤️. There's one more chapter left (the SMUT yeehawww), but I've written chapter 3 in a way where you could technically stop reading the story here if you didn't want to read the smut, and it would still be a satisfying conclusion. I know most of you are in it for the smut too, so don't worry my beloveds, it will come 😛💕

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 4/End)

The humanities faculty room always smells horrible.

It's hard to tell where the pungent scent even comes from; it feels like it's in the air, in all the furniture, in the walls themselves. There's no window to even attempt to vent it out either; it’s in the oldest wing of the university, built at least sixty years prior to the construction of every other unit. Most teachers avoid it like the plague, preferring to work in any other available space on campus, so it's almost always empty.

But it isn't today.

“Melllll,” you moan, shoving your face into the leather couch’s pillows. The smell is somehow worse, imbued into the fabric. If you had to describe it, you would just call it old. Like rancid coffee forgotten on the kitchen counter for too long, or ancient damp books abandoned in an attic. Old. “Why do I always mess up everything I do?”

Mel looks up from the paper she's grading with a sigh, adjusting the small reading glasses on her nose.

“You don't mess up everything you do,” she argues softly. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, and you say what you think without feeling ashamed. That's not something for everyone, but it's not a flaw, either.”

You can only groan into the odorous leather as an answer.

Viktor had been your very first friend at work, but he had been a lot more. Without him, you would have never met Jayce, and without Jayce, you would have never met Mel. And you would have no one to cry your woes to on a Friday evening, a whole two weeks after the most disastrous phone call of your life.

“And I believe Viktor is equally at fault here. He knows better than to play hide and seek with you forever,” Mel hums pensively, crossing her legs. Her olive eyes narrow, her nose scrunching up slightly in thought.

“He's stalling, trying to figure a way out without confronting his feelings or yours. He's smart enough to know there isn't one, but he's stubborn,” she points out, tapping her manicured nails on the wooden table. Tic, tic. Like **the sound of seconds passing on the clock, never-ending and all-consuming.

At first, both Jayce Talis, mechanical engineering PhD and researcher, and Mel Medarda, political science PhD with five peer-reviewed books published under her name, had been two extremely imposing people to interact with. You already felt unworthy enough talking to Viktor, but after learning of the kind of people he usually hung out with, you felt like an absolute loser. Jayce and Mel are both unreasonably attractive and accomplished, and when Viktor joins them, there's no denying he belongs to their world, and not yours.

In those moments, the differences between the two of you seem much more glaring: the university professor with a collection of awards and a PhD in biomechanical engineering, who is dedicating his life to creating life-altering prosthetic limbs and transmitting his knowledge to a whole new generation of scientists… and you.

The guidance councillor who can't shut up.

It’s not that you're ashamed of your job; you love what you do. You love being able to help people figure themselves out, and orient them toward what will make them happiest.

But when you stand in the same space as Viktor, it's hard to see anything other than how much greater of a person he is than you will ever be. He's like a star in the sky, shining brighter and brighter every day, and you get the privilege of watching him through the lens of a telescope. That should already be enough for you to be satisfied.

But it isn’t, not anymore. It hasn't been for a long time. And you want to do so much more than look at him. You want to touch him. You want to kiss him. You want to be someone worthy of shining alongside him; but you never believed that would ever happen.

And for so long, it felt so much easier to just date people whose very existence didn't make you feel like you would never be enough to reach their ankle. People who just wanted something casual and meaningless, some sex, maybe the semblance of a romance. And that's how you ended up with a string of disastrous relationships with men you barely even liked.

You contort your body uncomfortably on the couch to face Mel; it squeaks awkwardly under you, like it's threatening to break.

“Did you know? Did everyone but me know?”

She rests her head on her hand, the hint of a smile on her lips, seemingly slightly amused by the question:

“Depends on who you mean by everyone. No one outside his circle of close friends, for sure. He's not the type to scream about his love life over the phone,” she adds with a teasing glim in her eyes. “No offence.”

You groan, shoving your face back into the roughed-up leather. God, it still smells.

“But Jayce did know,” she confirms, and you hear her straighten her chair to return to work. The comforting sound of her fountain pen starts up again, but you know she's still giving her conversation with your full attention. Mel is like that, able to carry on a hundred tasks at once without breaking a sweat; you wish you had an ounce of her composure.

“Viktor told him after he got drunk last year at the faculty cookout. I believe his exact words were…”

She pauses to do a dramatic imitation of Viktor's voice and tone, “‘Jayce, she is wearing that dress just to put me into an early grave’.”

Not only is it pretty accurate, but God, you know exactly what dress.

The skimpy little sunflower dress that you knew showed way too much chest for a work-related event. You had worn it in the hopes of eliciting any sort of reaction from Viktor; but he had barely spoken to you that afternoon, constantly vanishing every time you entered a room. You assumed you made him uncomfortable with something you said, like you always ended up doing with everyone else.

So you had left the party on the arm of some nameless T.A. from the law department, hoping it would help you forget Viktor, just for a while.

It hadn't.

“And I knew,” Mel continues smoothly in her regular voice, “because I know what it's like to want someone to notice you so badly. To want someone to love you back.”

You detect something very personal in the way she pronounces the word ‘love’, almost like it's painful to even say.

Mel rarely talks about herself, preferring to listen to the stories of everyone around her. Everything about her gives an air of mature confidence and independence, and if she ever has any issues in her personal life, she never shares them with you, or anyone that you know of.

She's not cold by any means, and she helps everyone with genuine care, that, you are absolutely certain of. But you can feel there's a side of her she desperately wants to keep to herself. She's only ever mentioned her mother once, in a drunken haze, muttering something under her breath about never being enough for her.

You wonder if that's the person who’s love she’s longing for.

When she speaks again, there is something akin to nostalgia lingering in her voice:

“You get that special look in your eyes. You both looked at each other just like that, but neither of you ever noticed.”

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes. Fucking ironic. You can never seem to stop talking, but now, the words you want to tell her just won't come.

Mel doesn't seem to mind, though, and the sound of pen scrapping paper picks up again. You force yourself out of your leather cavern, sitting up on the couch to look at her directly.

“…Why didn't you say anything?” you ultimately settle with, but it rings much more fragile and hurt than you wanted it to.

She gives a small shrug without looking away from her documents:

“Not my place to. Viktor needed to confront his feelings head-on, and you needed to realize you were never not enough or too much for him,” she states matter-of-factly, “It's that simple.”

Everything always seems so easy when it comes from Mel's lips. But in your mind, thoughts are jumbled, emotions are running wild, and everything you thought you knew about the last four years is falling apart.

Maybe, that time on New Year’s Eve when he told you there was no other place he'd rather be, he hadn't meant at the party. He had meant with you.

Maybe, when he had taken your hand, it wasn't just because you were excitedly counting down the last seconds until midnight. It was because he wanted to touch you just as much as you wanted to touch him.

Maybe, at the end of that night and in those early morning hours, when he had said you would make someone really happy one day…he was asking if it could be him.

“Maybe,” you **exhale bitterly, enunciating the world like a curse, “it would actually be simple if he just answered my texts, or my calls. Or anything I do to try and reach him.”

Yeah, you're to blame for being so blind for so long. For noticing the smallest things about everyone else, but missing all the signs when it came to him.

But so is he for refusing to talk about it now that you finally see it.

“At this point, I’m seriously starting to consider lock-picking their apartment,” you grumble, more in tiredness than anger; you can't even manage to stay mad at him for longer than a minute. “He’s the one who showed me how to do that, did I ever tell you that?”

She lets out a soft laugh at that; but when she glances over to you, there's a hint of something new in her eyes.

“I'm sure he would enjoy seeing you put your training to use, but there might be another way to see him. I think he's had more than enough time playing hide and seek.”

You know that glint in her forest-green stare; she knows something you don't, and she’s chosen to reveal it to you. You almost jump off the couch with your eyes wide, so quickly you almost lose your balance:

“Mel, what do I do?”

She snorts as she motions for you to sit back down with a calming wave of her hand, amusement clear on her face.

“Calm down. I wouldn't tell anyone about this normally,” she begins, lowering her voice in secrecy, as if you’re not the only two in the room, “and I want to make it very clear you did not receive this information from me.”

You nod eagerly in agreement, hanging on to her every word.

“Go to their apartment,” she declares with certainty. “If you keep going after their door and to the end of the corridor, there's a big potted plant on the window sill. An orchid.”

You frown in confusion.

You've only been to Viktor and Jayce's apartment a few times in the couple of years you've known them. Usually for relaxed group hangouts, or an occasional game night. You remember very little about it other than the all-consuming childish excitement of being in Viktor’s home, and the absolutely not innocent thought of his bedroom being barely a few feet away.

Why don't you ever remember the important things?

You try to muster every memory you have of the apartment complex itself instead; they live on the third floor, and their door is the second one on the right after the elevator. The hallway is a straight, narrow line, and you've noticed how dark it always is every time you’ve visited.

Dark, yes, that's right, because aside from a cheap light fixture, there’s only one window that lets any light into the hallway, at the very end of the corridor. One window, that is almost entirely blocked by the world's most decrepit potted plant.

“The… really ugly one?” you ask with uncertainty.

Mel snaps her fingers in confirmation, a hint of perfect pearly white teeth shining between her lips.

“I think you may find something of interest under it. Jayce told me about it for whenever I want to…” she hesitates on her next word, uncharacteristically a little bashful, “visit.”

Oh, you fucking knew it.

“I totally-” you start triumphantly.

“Yes, I know, you knew it for months,” she interrupts, waving her hand in dismissal. Her lower lip sticks out slightly, almost like she's pouting. You've never seen her this embarrassed. “It's incredible how you notice everything about everyone else, but when it's about you, you suddenly forget how to use your own eyes.”

Touché.

You've sensed it for at least a year now, the unspoken electricity between the two of them. How her arm sometimes lingers just a second too long on his shoulder, how his hands seem to always accidentally brush her waist. For as subtle as they were being, there was no mistaking the fire when they looked at each other.

Did Viktor ever look at you like that, too?

Why hadn't you ever noticed?

“Wait, wait,” you interrupt your own train of thought. “The orchid. Why is the orchid…”

You pause when the realization hits you like a bucket of cold water.

Oh.

Oh.

“Do… do they have a set of keys under the orchid?” you ask slowly.

“I didn't say that,” Mel says, bringing her two hands up in self-defence; but the smile lingering on her lips tells another story. “And if you say I did, I will deny it and throw you under the bus with every inch of my power as the advisor for the debate club. Are we clear?”

You could kiss her.

You settle with a tight hug, holding her with as much force as you can muster. The scent of her perfume, bitter and floral, masks the decrepit smell of the room for just a moment. Is there any problem Mel can’t solve?

“Mel, you're the best,” you grin against her ear.

“So I'm told,” she hums. She gently detaches herself from the hug, giving you an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Now go. I don't like seeing you mop around my teacher's lounge, and I can't stand when Viktor performs his little disappearing act instead of talking things out.”

She picks her pen back up, giving you one last genuine look of support, voice soft, sincere: “You two are really meant for each other. Give him hell.”

—

Viktor is much less attentive than people give him credit for.

That’s not to say he’s oblivious or careless. In fact, when it comes to his work, he could instantly notice a tenth of a millimeter discrepancy from a mile away. He could hear the slightest abnormal murmur in the heart of any machine, and pinpoint its exact origin within seconds. Throw a blindfold on top, and he'd still know exactly where to place each and every single component of his prosthetic models.

But when it comes to the world outside his lab, his attention to detail just plummets.

If a bomb went off right outside his apartment, he probably wouldn't even look up from his notes. Jayce usually has to call his name thrice to pull him out of the trance-like state he gets into when he's sketching up a new idea, and that's only because he's used to Jayce's voice; for someone else, he might not hear it at all.

Even walking home from campus, he pays no attention to his surroundings, lost in his thoughts of valves, hydraulic cylinders, and flexion plates. He mechanically follows the same path he's walked thousands of times, a habit so ingrained in him it allows him to fully disconnect and think of nothing but work.

He's glad he has such a strong grip on his own mind, because if he didn't, he would let his practical ideations slowly morph into thoughts of nothing but you. You, who he hasn't seen in two weeks, because he likes to pretend change can't happen if he simply refuses to acknowledge it. It's much better to focus on what he actually has control over, to lose himself entirely in the things that make sense to him. To forget the world burning around him.

And that's exactly why he doesn't realize you’re in his apartment, sitting on his couch about ten feet away from him, until you make a pointed cough to signal your presence.

“Ah,” is the only thing he manages to get out.

He wishes he'd be surprised, but then again, he knew you would find your way to him eventually. He could keep trying to bury himself in work and avoid you with every inch of his power, you would not stop until you got answers to your questions. You’re just as stubborn as he is. That's part of why he fell for you.

So, there's nothing he can do, but let out a defeated sigh.

“I would ask how you got in here,” he starts flatly, taking off his coat robotically to place it on the hanger, “but I have a feeling it doesn't really matter.”

You don't react to his distant, tired tone, your expressive face unusually devoid of emotion when you speak.

“I didn't use your lockpicking lessons, if you're wondering.”

He can't help but snort at that:

“Disappointing.”

You both stay silent as he slowly takes off his boots and removes his wool scarf. The atmosphere isn't exactly awkward, but it's not comfortable either. Like a cheap, stiff version of the warm intimacy you usually share.

You've always been so easy to read, and anything that didn't show on your face always came from your lips. He always knows how you feel: he's observed every single expression on your face, from the slightest pout to the biggest grin, and committed it to memory with the dedication he only ever puts into his projects.

From the day you literally crashed in his life four years ago, utterly drunk and analyzing him with astonishing accuracy, he's felt the need to analyze you, too. To decipher every part of you, understand each component, each reaction. He craved the idea of knowing you like a cartographer knows the maps of the world, like an astronomer knows the place of every star. To understand you as you had understood him, with a single glance.

Right now, he has no idea what you're thinking.

In typical fashion, you're the one who ultimately breaks the ice first:

“You could kick me out,” you declare, staring him down almost challengingly. “I'll leave if you really want me to.”

There's clear apprehension and hurt in your voice, a bitterness you're trying your best to hide, but failing. He despises being the one to make you feel that way. He's become no better than any of your exes.

“We both know I won't do that,” he exhales. He's still standing in the entryway, just a few steps away from the threshold of the living room. There's no hiding anymore, no backing out. You're here, and he has to face you. Even if it breaks him.

“In the kitchen, second drawer on the left,” he says, making his way inside resignedly. “There's a rather large bread knife inside it. It hasn't been sharpened in a while, but it should do.”

Your passive expression falls for a second and you stare at him in confusion.

“Do for what?” you ask, eyebrow raised.

“Killing me to spare us both the embarrassment of this conversation,” he answers unenthusiastically.

You're the one who snorts, this time. If he could forget why you're here, he could almost pretend this is just a regular talk between close friends. Almost.

You get off the couch without hurry, stretching your limbs lazily; he wonders if you've been waiting for him for a while. You're still in your usual work clothes, but your hair is dishevelled, and your makeup is a bit smudged. Had these been different circumstances, this would be the kind of look he would imagine you in when he's alone in bed, but that's exactly the kind of treacherous impulse that's led him to this situation in the first place.

There's a strange shimmer in your eyes when you look at him again:

“You got any booze in that kitchen ?”

He’s starting to realize no matter how many years you give him, he’ll probably never be able to completely figure out what's going on in that brain of yours.

“You want to drink. Right now,” he states in disbelief.

You shrug:

“Seems like you listened to me when I was drunk last time. Maybe that'll get your attention again.”

There's an undeniable bitterness under the light sarcasm. It's deserved, frankly. And maybe a drink would make what's inevitably coming less difficult.

“First cabinet to the right. You can take the clear unlabeled bottle,” he offers.

You hum in approval, making your way to the kitchen without looking back at him. He makes his way to the couch, sitting at the opposite end of where you had been.

You come back with the bottle in one hand, and two mismatched shot glasses in the other. One is his, a souvenir from an academic conference in Marseilles; the silver lettering simply states ‘Ainsi va la vie’, ‘such is life’. He has to wonder if you chose it on purpose, to taunt him.

Although, the other one is Jayce's, and it's shaped like the torso of a woman with huge breasts in a bikini top with the colours of his old college. So it's equally as likely you just grabbed the first ones you found.

He always overthinks when he's anxious.

You put the three items down on the rectangular table in front of him, before sinking into the couch next to him. Your bodies aren't touching, shoulders an adequate distance from each other, but the proximity is still unnerving. The smell of your perfume, usually so comforting, makes him feel slightly ill.

You pour the alcohol into the shot glasses unhurriedly, progressively filling them both to the brim.

“Did you know Mel and Jayce are together?” you ask, not looking up from your task.

“Unfortunately so,” he mutters sourly.

You pause at that, perplexed.

“No, that is not what I meant, I am very happy for them,” he clarifies quickly. “But their decision to keep it a secret has been rather… precarious for me.”

You slide a glass towards him and give him a smile; the first one of the day, the first one in two weeks.

“You walked in on them fucking, didn't you?”

He groans, and you laugh. God, he missed that sound.

“I have never been more embarrassed in my entire life,” he complains, wrapping his hand around the shot glass. He notices with gratitude it's the plain one and not its heavily endowed sibling. “Being able to run had never seemed more appealing.”

You grab your own glass, the smile on your lips genuine, but fragile. The words still left unsaid hang above you both, and he's forced to remember this is but a moment of respite before everything falls apart.

“Maybe a drink will help you forget,” you joke, holding up the glass in his direction.

How he wishes it would.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he simply answers, bringing his glass to yours until they hit with a light clink. “Cheers.”

Your gaze holds his captive as you speak, like you're reaching into the depths of his very being.

“Na zdravià.”

You throw your head back and down the shot before he has time to voice his surprise, so he does the same, not wanting to break the unspoken rules of the toast; his ancestors would roll in their graves.

The liquid burns his throat almost instantly, the familiar warmth of alcohol settling into his body. It’s strong, powerful, but there’s a recognizable hint of plum and almonds that's comforting to him.

He can’t help a discreet, fond smile as your face scrunches from the sharp taste.

“I-I don't think I've ever had that before,” you cough out, your eyes slightly watery. It's endearing that no matter how much you drink, you never seem to build a tolerance to the sting of strong spirits.

“Slivovice. Plum brandy. The homemade ones are noticeably sharper than what they sell in stores here. Although… perhaps not as legal.”

You let out an amused cough, wiping away any tears before they get the chance to fall, smudging your mascara even more. But you're still smiling at him, decided, bold, never letting yourself be defeated by anything. It's like he's falling for you all over again in that single moment, outside of time and space.

Even in his darkest moments, when all else crumbles, you remain the unwavering light he can always find in the sky.

“I am a little surprised you remembered how to say that,” he admits softly.

What he had meant as a compliment seems to come off as a reproach in your eyes, and the smile falls, ending the magic of the instant.

“It may not always look like it, but I listen to you, Viktor,” you mumble, hurt. “I'm not an idiot, either.”

“I did not mean to imply-” he protests, but the words die in his throat. He opens his mouth by reflex, before closing it again; the sentence lingers incomplete in the air.

“…Why did you hang up?”

Here it is.

“Ah, so we're jumping into the questioning already. Alright,” he sighs. He chooses to stare at the bottom of his empty glass to avoid seeing your reaction. It's pitiful, but it'll spare him some of the pain and embarrassment. “I did not want to listen to what you would say, this once. I was scared if I heard your answer, it would all be real. Unchangeable.”

Change. Viktor had never been scared of the concept before. Change means something new, passing from one state to another, an evolution. It means progress. Nothing could ever be as gratifying, as glorious, as making the changes you want to see in the world.

But he didn't want you to change. He wanted you to stay just as you are, always excitedly talkative and brilliantly observant. Always shinning. A star brighter than any other, that could never fade no matter how the world treated her.

Revealing his feelings for you would have put that in harm’s way. You might think he had never truly been interested in your conversations, in all those ideas and words you feel so self-conscious about, and lose the trust you had in him as a friend.

He couldn't take that risk.

“So… you avoided me for two weeks ?” you scoff in disbelief.

He lets out a short, bitter laugh:

“I would have attempted longer if you did not break into my apartment.”

The poor attempt at a joke doesn't seem to land very well with either of you. The atmosphere feels still and heavy, the strange tension palpable.

“Ok,” you exhale, leaning your head back against the back of the couch. “You can ask me a question now.”

He glances at you in surprise:

“A question? Why?”

“So it's equal. I ask you one, you ask me one,” you explain simply, like it's the most basic rule of conversation in the world. “I haven't been attentive to what you were trying to tell me, for a long time. I need to change that.”

He hesitates for a second. There's a lot he wants to ask you. Had things been different, would you ever have considered him as someone you could fall for? If he could change the timing, the place, the words, would anything have made it so you could have loved him?

“You read people so easily,” he almost whispers. “I always assumed you knew how felt for you, but were too nice to tell me off. That you did not want to break what we had.”

It’s time. It's time for change. There is no other choice than to move forward. He continues:

“I am… sorry that I fell in love with you.”

Ah…

The weight seems slightly lighter on his chest. It's not a good feeling, exactly, but there's a certain peace that comes with finally having said it.

The expression on your face is yet again one he doesn't recognize.

“I'm not. I’m not sorry, Viktor,” you breathe out, hardly any louder than his respiration.

Your hand touches his, just barely, and he flinches, pulling away. But you refuse to back off. You reach for him again, your fingers timidly touching his own.

“Maybe I did know, in a way,” you reflect, a single digit moving across his knuckles, the ghost of a caress, “but I wouldn't let myself believe it. I didn't want to lose the only person I’ve ever felt wanted to listen to me. So… I stopped listening to my instincts, I guess.”

You let out a shaky laugh.

“I talk all the goddamn time and I don't even listen to myself.”

He turns his hand around, letting your index trace the lines of his palm instead.

“A fortune teller who can't read her own cards,” he teases gently. “Ironic.”

You scoff with a smile; your fingers intertwine, tentative.

“You're one to talk, asshole,” you huff playfully, “the big smart professor who can't figure out when someone is in love with him.”

His heart stops beating in his chest.

“Ah. You... you lo-” he stops himself before finishing his sentence, scared of pronouncing the word. He takes a shaky breath before he attempts again: “You feel the same way I…?”

He leaves the question open. He's still hesitant to make it real. Of saying the words that'll shift things. Because damn it, yes, Viktor is scared of change when it comes to you.

“I’m in love with you, Viktor,” you smile, like it's the most natural thing in the world. “Did the part where I broke into your apartment just to talk to you not give that away?”

What a strange feeling. He's dreamed of hearing those words from your mouth for so long, never believing they would, and yet it feels so right. As if you had told him a thousand times before this moment.

Maybe you had, in your own way.

He squeezes your hand, the sensation of your skin against his making it all feel impossibly real.

“I suppose we're both idiots,” he sighs gently, eyes locking into yours. “The blind oracle, and the clueless teacher. What a dynamic duo we make.”

Your forehead meets his, your nose just barely tickling his.

“I'd say we make a good duo. You and me,” you grin. You're so close he can feel the warmth of your breath on his lips. He smiles.

“I'd say so as well.”

Taglist Darlings ❤️ : @soniiyi , @mischievous-piltovan , @just1cefor4ll , @luv-urself-first, @girlidkthinkofsmth , @starflesh-moth , @raynoway, @vyshnevaka , @ash-84321 , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

[corazondebeskar-reads]

could be

Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

this ficlet is brought to you by @iamasaddie's writing challenge! my assigned color was "pretty clicker" (which tbh idk if we needed to include the color but I did anyway lol).

genre: pwp (I tried my best) prompt: "whoa, that's a new one."

words: 1.7k

summary: jackson is not your home. joel miller is not your boyfriend. but they could be.

warnings: pwp, oral (m&f receiving), handjob, fingering, joel and reader are astoundingly bad at emotions, a few playful spanks, tommy makes an off-screen cameo, old man joel my beloved, antics, absolutely no proofreading or beta reading whatsoever rip sorry

dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Whoa, that’s a new one,” drawls the man as he steps out of the shadow of the copse. “ If it ain’t the prettiest little clicker I’ve ever seen.” 

You scowl, tugging the hat off, boot scuffing the dirt as you grind the frustration of being caught out into the soil. It gives with some difficulty, the late autumn’s early frost already turning the ground to stone. “Shut up, Joel,” you mutter. 

“That always work for ya? How haven’t you gotten shot yet?” He says, jerking his head down at the ball cap you’ve adorned with the decapitated clicker’s face.

(Or should you say disembodied? Dessicated? Desecrated? Whatever, you cut the fucking mushrooms off a dead fucker and stuck them on a hat. The terms don’t matter.) 

“Yep. Not too many fools out here who will go looking for a clicker when they hear one.”

“It’s a good impression, darlin’, but it’s not quite enough to trick me.” He’s drawn close, maybe too close, and curls two fingers under your chin, drawing your gaze to his grizzled face. 

You roll your eyes. “You a clicker whisperer or something?” 

His lips curl. “Not quite, no.” He lets his hand fall from your chin, and you watch it go. 

When you look back up at his face, you’re caught. Trapped. His grin is solemn, as if he, too, feels the snare.

“You got somewhere to stay tonight?” he says, instead of acknowledging the way you’ve drawn a breadth closer. 

“Sure do,” you drawl. 

He chuckles. “Alright, keep your secrets. But, uh—my back ain’t what it used to be, so the forest floor ain’t gonna work for me today.”

Your lips curl. “Presumptuous, are we?”

“You’re lookin’ at me like a piece of meat, sweetheart.”

“Well, ain’tcha?”

“Guess you must be desperate, then, ‘f’you’re back for an old man like me.”

“Guess so,” you hum and give in. “How d’you always find me?”

“Hmm, don’t you worry ‘bout that, alright? All you gotta know is that I do always find you, and I’ve got some of Tommy’s peanut butter cookies in my bag for ya.”

“My hero,” you press one hand over your heart while the other makes the universal ‘gimmie’ gesture at his backpack. 

“Could be, y’know,” he mumbles. 

You both ignore the slip. He rifles around in the bag and pulls out a tin. You try to snatch it from him, but he pulls away with a wagging finger. 

“Nope, not yet,” he says with a teasing lilt, his drawl drawing out. He hands you one precious sweet and tucks the rest back into his bag. “If I give it to you now, you’ll just run off, and then what’ll I have?”

“A sense of satisfaction from being kind?”

You share a laugh at your joke as he leads you not to the safe “house” but up to the old, creepy lodge you avoid like the plague. Or. Well. Like the Infected. 

“Calm down, I already cleared it,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “It’s got a real bed, though, sweetheart, so I can take my time with ya.”

“You mean so you don’t break a knee fuckin’ me over a log?”

“It didn’t break. Jesus. How old do you take me for?”

“Old as shit,” you mutter. 

He just grins. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’. You just get brattier the longer you’re away. Ain’t got any good cock back home?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, but it’s close to the truth. There’s cock back home, sure, but then you’d have to fuck one of those losers, and you just know Joel’s ruined you. 

Ruined you with intent and precision, and now he’s taking you by the hand and leading you up into the lodge’s dusty halls and into what must have once been a nice guest room. 

You whistle. “Did you clean this just for me?” You ask, batting your lashes. 

“If I say yes, you gonna be sweet for me?”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me if I was.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says, lying down on the bed with his hands behind his head. “So get your ass up here.”

You quickly shimmy out of your sweats and climb up to straddle him, but his grin splits wider in a lecherous stretch. 

“You think I brought you here for you to ride me? Y’can do that shit in the woods. Get up here.”

You hesitate. “I live in a fucking camp, Joel.” The “without running water” bit is obvious but unspoken.

“I do not give a shit,” he says bluntly. “Get up here.”

“Your funeral,” you say with a shrug, and let him help you settle over his face. You’re barely steady when he grabs your hips and pulls, bringing you to meet him. 

It’s been… longer than you can even remember, and oh shit. Either your memory hasn’t done this justice, or the last man to eat you out was fuckin’ terrible because this is nothing like you’ve ever known. 

But he doesn’t dive in and rush it. He doesn’t go straight to sucking on your clit; he doesn’t push three fingers into your cunt to work you open for his cock. 

Oh, no. You’ve been had, you think. This setup was an elaborate trap to wipe your mind clean and replace everything with thoughts of him. He’s brought you here to the second closest place of safety he knows so he can take his fuckin’ time with you. 

His hands are gentle on you, and he nuzzles into your mound to part your folds, his wide nose pushing between to seek out his prize. The tip of his tongue pushes out to help, tracing the tiny slit of your cunt. At the first taste of you, he groans, drawn out and filthy. 

“Shit,” he pants, hot breath scattering across the soft peaks and valleys. “It’s been too goddamn long.”  He seems to be talking to himself, which is good because you can’t wrangle more than a tangled gasping whimper in response. 

He brings his hands up underneath you to grip your inner thighs, pulling to spread you more so he can watch you start to glisten. “Atta girl,” he murmurs, nuzzling back in to lap it up. “Mmm, baby, is all this for me?”

“Shoulda known you wouldn’t shut up,” you mutter, even though you’re addicted to his filthy mouth most of the time.

“Shut me up then,” he says in a way you simply cannot refuse. 

You grind down on his face, expecting protest, but he moans in a way you can only classify as slutty. He buries his face between your thighs with a growl and gets to work. 

You can barely hold yourself up after the first orgasm he coaxes from you, all powerful tongue and gentle lips. 

“Y’ain’t quittin’ on me, are ya?” He taunts. 

“I thought you were gonna shut up.” 

He smacks your ass. “Turn around.”

When you do, he pushes you down to lay on him. “Get nice and cozy with my cock, sweetheart, ‘cause I ain’t done with you yet.”

You take the invitation but before you can pull him free from his jeans, he’s diving back into his personal all you can eat buffet and showing no sign of slowing. 

Eventually, you manage to pry his ridiculous monster cock from its denim confines and try, really try, to focus on it, but it’s so hard (you giggle as you tell him) when he keeps doing that thing with his teeth and your clit. After the third time, you find yourself just moaning and drooling around it; you give up and rest your head on his thigh, content to hold it in your hand and lick. 

He spanks you again. “Don’t be a tease.”

You try to protest, but he bests you by attempting to suck your soul out of your clit while hammering two thick fingers against your g-spot, and it’s all over for your brain. Poor thing never stood a chance against Joel anyway. 

You squirm away from the menace when he attempts to keep going and smack him in the face with a pillow when he whines. He wipes his beard on it and throws it back at you. 

You can’t hold back your questions now that you’re back up and running. “How d’you have the time for this?” 

“Hmm?” Joel grunts, a hand tugging lazily at his dick while he surreptitiously slides his hand down the length of your thigh and back up. 

You turn on your back, swatting his hand away. “You’re usually in a rush.”

He turns a little pink. “Don’t matter.”

“Uh, it clearly does. I’m asking.”

“Well, it’s nunya.”

You groan. “Think I liked it better when you were too busy eating me out to talk.”

“Now you know how I feel.”

You throw the cum-stained pillow back at him but miss by an embarrassing overshot. It arcs over him and into the floor between his side of the bed and the wall. 

You shrug. “Gone forever,” you say and throw an arm over your eyes dramatically. 

It’s a good thing, too, since the pillow hits you in the face. 

“I’m on watch here,” he says once you stop screeching indignantly. 

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it,” you let him know solemnly. 

“Ain’t alone. M’brother—Tommy,” he clarifies unnecessarily, “S’here too. He’s got it handled.”

“Oh my god, did you ask your brother to cover for you so you could get laid?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

“Aw, Miller. You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you drawl. 

He plays it off with another eye roll and scoffs, but the thing is—you know. He stopped asking you to think about moving to Jackson a long time ago. But slowly, he’s been taking you closer and closer to town when you meet up. 

And you’re pretty sure he’s using Tommy’s cookies as a reward. Each time he lures you closer, he brings more treats the next time. You’d be mad at the absolute gall, but… it’s not not working, so you only have yourself to blame.

When you catch his eye again, he makes a point to hold your gaze and draw it down to his leaking cock, and you know he knows. You won’t go with him, so he’ll have you here. Jackson is not your home. But that quiet drawl in your head that sounds unnervingly similar to the man sprawled before you whispers, it could be.

[wonderingpanda]

Remember back in high school the juiciest gossip was always about someone like-like-ing someone else? Will you write headcanons or something about the Mayhem boys hearing a rumor about someone (Reader) like-like-ing them? What would they do with this super important information?

I just really need some fluffy goofy high school shenanigans now-a-days.

Have You Heard?

MM!Turtles x Reader

This was so much fun to write. I loved adding hints of my own comedy and little cliches while giving each turtle their own individual story to follow. Thank you for the request, enjoy!

Leo

This was unexpected

Oh this was VERY unexpected

See Leo was a loser

He didn’t get to be cool, he didn’t get to be  smart, he didn’t get to be funny and he didn’t get the girl

At least that’s what he thought

According to April though, this was entirely inaccurate

According to April, you’d had a crush on him for the last month

Someone went a whole MONTH harbouring romantic feelings for him!

And not just anyone; his cool, pretty friend whom he had fallen head-over-heels for the first day they met

This was unbelievable!

Of course his brothers didn’t believe him

I mean, why would they? According to them, he naturally makes girls gravitate away from him

Now it’s not like you knew April told Leo this

You had simply shared the information during a sleepover and blindly trusted her

A bad choice really considering sharing news was her whole gig

Still you were none-the-wiser the next day as to why Leo was anxiously pulling at his shirt

Or why he avoided your eyes like the plague

Or why when you chose to sit next to him in geography he felt like his heart was about to erupt

You had no clue

So what was Leo to do in this situation?

Trust in April’s words and confess his feelings, risking the possibility of making things more awkward?

Or stay silent and let fate decide when was right, risking losing the chance to be with you forever?

It was a tough choice

But Leo’s a wimp so obviously he wasn’t going to say anything

That was until his brothers forced him to

Donnie had cleverly hacked his computer to send an email to you, asking you to meet in one of the art rooms

He in turn did the same to your computer and gave explicit times to ensure you both crossed over

It was believing those emails that lead you to to your current situation

Locked in an art room by April and Leo’s insufferable brothers, forced to wait it out until you found a way to escape

Heart pounding, mind racing and palms sweating

Leo knew exactly what they wanted out of you two and he had no idea how to do it!

So… Guess we’re stuck, in here … Seems like it’ll be a while- Did I upset you Leo? What, no!? Really? Cause you’ve been acting weird all day Not because of you! Well it sure seems like it’s because of me! How!? You literally made a point to stare at nothing but the ground the second I tried talking to you today! I was nervous! Why were you nervous!? Because I really like you! I really, really like you And I guess the thought that you might like me back is so thrilling it’s kind of terrifying But I-I don’t expect you to feel the same, I get this is probably off-putting with the green and the shell and the baldness- Leo! You grabbed his head and forced him to finally meet you face-to-face No tan, hair-covered, bare-backed guy could ever make me feel the way I do for you

You quickly kissed him and upon pulling away realised he had melted into a puddly, flustered mess

And you were released from the art room

Eventually

In the end it was a win-win

April got to succeed in her matchmaking schemes, you got to kiss the turtle of your dreams, Leo got a girlfriend and his brothers had something new to tease him about

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t a 100% win for Leo but close enough

Raph

Raph had met you first when he joined the wrestling club at school and you just so happened to be there

You also happened to be there when he tried out for the track team

And footy team

And basketball team

And cricket team

And just about every single sport he experimented with

For some reason you were consistently always there, always in his head with your stupid pretty face and swooshy hair and bright eyes and dumb little smile

GOD WHY WERE YOU ALWAYS THERE &$!#%!!??

Well… since you seemed to follow him everywhere Raph figured he may as well befriend you

And you two got along well, soon enough it seemed like he had found his new best friend

Also it may have turned out that you’d been widely involved in the school’s sport program for years but we don’t talk about that!

Anyhow, you guys stuck together pretty consistently

Always hanging out and goofing off, ranting about teachers and friends

In a weird way you were also each other’s therapists, being forced to be the reasonable one whenever the other was in a firey state

His brothers greatly appreciated it as it meant they had to deal with less violent endeavours from him

If only Donnie hadn’t been feeling so bored that day, maybe then he’d still be alive

Or at least have a chance of living to the next day

See you and Raph had just been chilling at your locker while you grabbed stuff for class

No biggie, the closest you contact you had was Raph’s arm being slightly around you

But when Donnie came around and saw you two he couldn’t think of a better way to brighten his day than to embarrass his brother in front of the girl he’d been talking about for weeks

So as he walked by he slyly turned to you two, eyebrows raised and commented “You two look comfy” before contently strutting off

Raph’s face blended in with his mask as he stared angrily at his brother’s back

I’m gonna kill him Don’t I have P.E with him today

Donnie ended up returning home with a LOT of bruises that day

But it was worth it for the information he managed to squeeze out of you

All which he spouted to Raph like a proud toddler

Raph didn’t believe him

He genuinely didn’t

No way you had a crush on him

You liked to watch him wrestle for the fight not the visuals

And the only reason you were insistent on having him at your locker every morning was so you had someone to talk to. You’d replace him with any of your friends if they arrived earlier

Also, the fact that you showed off your muscles to him at a swim competition was purely to brag and in no way hinting towards any feelings!

Raph knew you didn’t like him and he could prove it

So Donnie dared him to ask you

Then after regaining consciousness, told Raph he’d call him out for being a wimp if he didn’t

3 beatings in one day, way to go Donnie!

So Raph wasn’t feeling too psyched the next day when he was talking to you and noticed Donnie’s lingering gaze but a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do (terrible under other context but you get the point)

Ok Y/n, now this is totally random but stupid Donnie has been nagging me to ask you. Do you like me? Like, like-like me Donnie told you that? No he just wanted me to ask- Well he’s right Huh? He told me you feel the same way, I’m assuming you do After all it would make sense as to why you’re constantly displaying signs of high dopamine, noradrenaline, releases of phenethylamine and hormonal changes around me I don’t know what any of those words mean but I love you You turned to him with a genuine smile I love you too, but it has only been a few weeks so can we just take things a bit slow for now? Uh huh Awesome

You gripped the top of his plastron and pulled the lovestruck turtle into a small kiss

Sadly you were torn apart when an annoying voice called out from across the hall

I told you so!

He bolted, but at least you two had managed to get together. Raph may have actually killed Donnie otherwise

Donnie

You and Donnie were childhood friends, platonic besties, a power duo of friendship

There were no romantic feelings between you two AT ALL

…

So it started in maths

You, Donnie and Leo were being the ultimate nerd trio, figuring out equations and such when one of the annoying kids, Harvey, thought it would be funny to call out

Hey Donnie! Did you know Y/n likes you!?

Some kids started laughing and others talking while you sat there with your face beet red

Donnie’s face flushed as he stumbled over his words, desperately trying to defend you which he didn’t succeed well in

He did take note of your reaction to the whole scenario which peaked his interest

(Side note: Leo did slightly enjoy the whole thing, finally not the butt of the joke 😃)

After that day Donnie’s thoughts grew

He had pictured these scenarios a thousand times in his head but never had they felt so possible

Asking you out, you asking him out, going on dates, exchanging gifts, hugging, crying, kissing

Then it happened again, sort of

He and Raph were leaving class together

Easy, simple, completely normal

Till a random girl, who he recognised as your friend, yelled from behind

Donnie, do you like Y/n!?

He panicked. What was he meant to say?

He couldn’t say yes, what if you didn’t like him? But what if you did like him?

However, they were getting further away and he only had seconds to answer

So he made the “smartest decision of his life” and called back

U-uh, um, no!

Since then you’d been more distant

And with all this evidence; Donnie became a full analyst

He noted down your behaviours, how you acted before and now

How your interests changed with him, when you were louder and quieter, what gestures you made to hint any feelings

He looked deep and saw all the signs

Sadly you were still pretty distant after what you heard from your friend and Donnie was determined to change that

First off, he tried to initiate more conversation and when you attempted to cut it short he kept pushing

No matter how hard his social anxiety was screaming he knew he had to keep conversations going

He also kept making an effort to sit next to you

Any scenario be it lunch, class or just general group hangouts; he was always by your side

And after a week or so when you seemed to be loosening up more he chose to take things a step further with physical contact

He’d give you a high-five, fist bump or hug as a greeting

Maybe lean on your shoulder or get closer when you were showing him something

Sometimes if he was feeling particularly happy he’d sneak his hand over yours

Soon enough, it seemed like you had finally gotten over everything and were back to your old self. But there was still something you had to address

Lunch time, alone. That’s when you chose to bring it up

Donnie, do-um… did uh my friend ever tell you anything a few weeks ago? He began choking on his food *Cough* N-no uh why? Well it’s just that the last few days you’ve been different Different how? Uh… just small stuff like the hand thing and I guess you’ve seemed a bit closer Oh! I mean psh, I just thought you were upset or something so I wanted to cheer you up, no big deal You thought I was upset? Why? Well you were acting more distant and I didn’t want to bring it up cause I thought it might be sensitive so I figured I’d just help on the side, you know? That’s actually really sweet. But are you sure there’s no other reason for it? Uh nope! None, I mean why else would I want to hug you and hold your hand and stuff it’s not like I have a crush on you. Cause that- that would be crazy you and me together like whaaat? A mutant and a human who, how!? Donnie Yes Did you lie to my friend? Maybe … So it wouldn’t be weird if we dated? I’d love it if we dated

Of course you kissed and both of you loved it

Donnie had never felt this happy in his whole life, not even when they saved the city!

And he had enough blackmail to shut his brothers up if they ever tried teasing you two

Mikey

You two were the best of buddies

Two peas in a pod

Always acting and performing at each others side

Mikey loved it

Mikey loved you

And the day he heard you may feel the same caused his mind and heart to simultaneously explode

It was Leo, of course it was Leo

They were in art discussing the struggles of having human crushes

It was when Leo said “At least yours likes you back” that he knew he screwed up

Mikey wasn’t panicked though, Mikey’s Mikey

He was of course very happy when he heard the news and didn’t leave Leo alone about it for days

Every waking moment was spent getting updates from Leo and insights into your friend group

And whenever you two saw each other be it before school, after school, breaks, in class or at improv, he was ecstatic

This guy just couldn’t get enough and made every effort to let you know he liked you

Soon enough he felt like he had enough confirmation on your feelings and gained the confidence to just go for it

It was during a game of freeze tag when he tapped out the person you were previously with and started a new scene

Jessie! Hey, thank gosh I found you Lucas, what’s up? I haven’t seen you in a while Oh well, you know, I’ve just been busy; things have been a bit different lately Different how? Well the word is that someone I know likes me but I just don’t know who That sure is a dilemma Yeah, if it’s the person I think it is though I recon it’ll end pretty well You got some hopes do you? Ahh just someone, nothing to worry about I don’t know if you’re associated Try me Alright well… they have h/c hair ooh and pretty e/c eyes! They’re also one of my closest friends and I don’t think they realise just how much I like them Wow Lucas that must be really keeping you on edge Yeah, if only I knew who it is At this point you and Mikey had moved so close to each other your hands were almost touching Mikey I- FREEZE!

And just like that, the scene was over

But not the story

At the end of the rehearsal you and Mikey walked out of school together and the discussion of feelings was unavoidable

You two were walking silently side-by-side till he finally said it

I like you Y/n Do you like me back? I like you so much Mikey you don’t even know

His face lit up as he cheerfully pulled you into a hug and spun around

You took the opportunity as he slowed down, cupped one of his cheeks and planted a kiss on his lips

From that day forward Mikey got to walk around boasting about having the greatest partner in all of New York

And you went on to kick Leo’s butt for exposing your secret so easily

Again, I loved writing this so much. Also I think I’m going to use indented for my Headcanons from now on (although I guess they’re more listed stories at this point). Anyway thank you for reading and please, have an awesome day/night wherever you are!✨

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

One part of me was left behind | Niragi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Death - Bullying - Foreing!Reader - Xenophobia - WHAT I WRITE ABOUT JAPANESE PPL DOES NOT REPRESENT THEM !! - Blood - ANGST - grammar mistakes -

When Niragi first over hear that a new student was going to join his school in the middle of the year he did not give it a second thought.

He was after all, a loser. No one wanted to hang up with him fearing they would end being bullied too.

And on top of that you were a girl, of course you will avoid him like a plague.

"SILENCE! We will now let our new student introduce herself, pleasen come in"

The moment you entered the class a silence cold as the worse winter fell. No one mentioned that you were not japanese....

You gave a nervous yet friendly smile introducing yourself in japanese, there was an accent of course, but they could still understand you. You knew that since you did talk with adults and such and no one had a problem.

You also mentioned from where you were and how you hoped to get along the rest of the year.

No one clapped or smiled back. In fact they looked....disgusted by you. You wanted to think it was your mind playing games on you, but after you took a seat besides a girl and asked to see her book only to get a rude response you knew it.

They did not like you.

~~~~~~~

The next days were chaos for you. No one would talk to you, at least directly, whenever you tried to make up conversation they would fake not understanding you.

Then they would whisper how your accent was too thick and how strange you looked, how you just did not fit.

Thats why after one week of being the center of jokes at the cafeteria you took your lunch to a part of the school that was away from everyone.

It was truly a sad scene, you taking small bites of your bento (and of course they said how you must have stole it from someone, from a true japanese), and drinking water.

"You are in my spot" a voice said

You looked up truly suprised to see anyone here and more, talking to you.

Niragi adjusted his glasses and looked around avoiding your gaze. He had seen from day one how bad the school had take you in and how professors ignored it. He did feel bad for you, but honestly? What could he do?

"Uh...sorry i did not think someone would come here. Is" You made a gesture to the place "Rather lonely"

"Its better than being with them" Niragi said, just in last period his lunch had got robbed from his backpack so he had to take a trio to the cafeteria (wrose minutes of his life) to get some food for himself.

Thats why he was late, thats why you ended here in his spot.

"Well, there is plenty of space, we can eat together if you want?"

Shit, what if he was like the rest? What if he also hated you for no reason ?

Niragi blushed at your idea, if he was honest he found you rather cute for the eye, of course he did not know anything about you (to worried living his own hell) but maybe and just maybe you two could get along?

Since he was lost in his mind you took his silence as a no and started to move.

"Forgive me, you must be angry the foreing student took your spot and now is inviting you to eat" You said the last part with a tone of anger.

"N-no its not like that" He exclaimed making you stop "i was just thinking...we can have lunch together, (Y/N) was it? Right?"

For the first time since starting school you smiled, a true smile, not the fake ones you would give professors or to your own parents. Even your eyes reflected the joy you were feeling.

"Yes! Thats me, and you are?"

From that moment a friendship started to grow.

~~~~~~

The bullying did not stop, it even got worse once others noticed how you and Niragi seemed to be friends.

The "Strange couple" or "Nerd and Monster" were your new names. Some would even whisper how you two would go to the bathroom on the fourht floor to do stuff (something that made the school call your and Niragi's parents who almost exploted in range).

But you two survived it. Niragi was a hard shell to break, but he was good and even funny. You two would go to the arcade lots of times. You found out how good he was at shooting games, he even won you a plush one time. And kept saying how it was nothing while blushing.

The first time you two kissed it was spring. It was so cliche. It had been another hell day at school so you two took a walk around a park deciding to go to a near ice cream store.

Maybe it was the slowly but raising temperature or the sakura petals that fell once you two made it into the store.

"You have...some ice cream" Niragi said pointing at your cheeck, you tried to remove it but failed going to get a napkin when you felt his lips on your cheeck on the spot were the ice cream used to be.

Both of you blushed and did not talk all the way back to your place. But you were not going to let it slide so taking his hand in yours and giving him the most loving look someone your age could give you gave him a small kiss on his lips.

~~~~~~~

Years went by, the two of you started to date and your Relationship was beautiful. Niragi did change but so did you, you two were stronger now, more confident and mature.

The two of you were out for a date, just enjoying your time together, he had his arm around your shoulders as you two walked.

Then all went to hell.

~~~~~~~

The Borderlands were a place of fight or die, and luckly you had Niragi and he had you.

The amount of games you two went together and came out alive...the adrenaline, the desesperstion.

All of it was worth it if you two got more time together, if your visas got more days.

Niragi was always at the front, making sure no one and nothing would hurt you, he was your shield like he used to be at school.

And while you too got lucky lots of times....

"No...nononono!! (Y/N) WAKE UP!!" Niragi screamed seeing your body laying on the floor some type of gun innury on your abdomen.

It was a minute, just one minute. You two were together and then got separated.

"You cant leave me!! YOU PROMISED ME, FUCK YOU PROMISED WE WERE GOING TO GET OUT TOGETHER"

Niragi could not stop screaming as he hugged your lifeless body, cold and out of life. Any trace of what you were was gone.

And so was his soul.

Because if Niragi was sure of something, he loved you. He loved you a lot and was sure you two were soulmates. You were is angel, how could he had survived school without you?

"Im gonna kill them, i dont care who did this. I will kill them all"

Soul tainted in range Niragi did it. He killed all the players coming out with lots of blood on his body and you on his arms. He carried you till he found a place where he could bury your body.

"Im sorry, i should have been more careful, im sorry, it should have been me"

One part of Niragi died that night. His good part. The only thing left was a monster, hungry for death and pain, ready to see others suffers as much as possible.

[ywnzn]

boy next door ᡣ𐭩 just asking

ᡣ𐭩 song eunseok x fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 synopsis. in which yn keeps texting a random number life updates, that turns out to be the boy next door.

ᡣ𐭩 warnings. rushed writing kind of, lower case intended, not proofread, smau part at the end!

ᡣ𐭩 wc. 557

yn avoided eunseok like the plague after the “baby” incident.

she even avoided everyone, including her own friends. (minus moka; because of shared classes) no one really questioned it, because even eunseok was avoiding her due to embarrassment; they knew something must’ve happened.

on the way back home after finishing her classes, yn caught a glimpse of a familiar face, and before she processed who it is, she heard him call out her name.

“yn! here!!” shotaro waved at the girl with a wide smile. “shotaro, hi!” yn smiled back and walked towards the boy. both exchanged greetings and (how are you)’s before the he asked:“you’re walking home, right?” yn nodded in return.

“great, you should wait for seok, he’s inside getting drinks.”

‘huh? seok?’

right before she could open her mouth, eunseok was already by their side: “sho, they don’t have any taro boba…” his voice got quieter when he noticed yn.

“hi…” eunseok pursed his lips, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

sensing the awkwardness, shotaro spoke first:“you two get home safe!” and a giggle left his lips before he started walking away from them while waving.

“wait- um.. shit,” eunseok swore in a low voice, his eyes trying to avoid yn’s before he gave up and sighed. “you’re going home? i’ll walk you there.”

the walk home was so quiet. too quiet for eunseok’s liking so he cleared his throat and turned to look at yn. “you got any plans for the weekend?”

yn looked up at him and shook her head, lips turning into a pout. “hmm.. no, why?”

he slipped his hands in his pockets, head turning to face the front as he shrugged his shoulders. “just asking.”

“you can’t ask me something and then say that!” she whined and crossed her arms to her chest. “i just did,” he giggled, glancing at her for a moment.

“you’re becoming annoying like beomgyu.” she rolled her eyes, earning another giggle from the boy. “didn’t stop you from liking me.” he teased, not paying much attention to his words. “yeah yeah, you’re lucky i do.”

“you do?” he stopped walking. “huh?” yn blinked in confusion.

“you like me?” he raised both of his eyebrows, one of his hands reaching to grab her wrist and move her out of the path to stop the running teenagers from bumping into her.

“i like you?” she blinked again and eunseok couldn’t help but giggle at how cute she looked. “you’re asking me?“ he tugged her closer to him with her wrist, startling her; her hand now on his shoulder for stability.

“i don’t know…” she whispered before clearing her throat and removing her hand. also releasing her wrist from his grip “we should, um, go.”

yn looked away, unable to register anything at the moment. thoughts running a marathon in her head. “alright,” eunseok shook his head, unable to hide the smirk that creeped on his lips.

both were now standing in front of their doors, yn’s lips pressed together in a shy smile as she opened her door, her voice small when she saying bye to the boy, which he immediately replied to.

and before she her door was completely shut, she heard him say:“i’m taking you out tomorrow, by the way.”

too bad her door was already shut when the words sank in.

₊ ⊹ prev | next ⊹ ₊

ᡣ𐭩 notes. eunseok loser bold era ✅

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[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

How does it look? Ah, it’s an improvement

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Ok, so another gap between updates, but for everyone that's still here, I hope you guys enjoy it, your comments and asks give me life 💕

Part 6 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

In the days after your little run in with König at the gym, things had been tense with the guys. So much so that until you could find time for a ‘covert’ date, you’d tried to avoid him like the plague. Of course that meant that he was open to attack from the rest of your team, but you figured, what harm could they really do? Well as it turned out, after finally lifting your self imposed ban, he’d said they’d been on him like bloodhounds.

Apparently there was no limit they would reach to defend your honour, not that it needed defending in the first place (but you couldn’t tell them that). After a mixture of the guys trying to warn him, threaten him, jump out at him, knock his tea off of the counter and throw his food in the bin, they’d made it difficult for König to do much of anything around base. Your mind had buzzed in a near constant state of anxiety, waiting to see what they’d do next.

Luckily for your frayed nerves and König’s safety however, they stopped being as harsh to him as time went on. In only a couple weeks in fact, they’d stopped attempting to jump him and threaten him away from you, and instead took to glaring at him and giving him what you called the ‘school girl treatment’. Sure, bitching about him and saying they couldn’t wait to put Ex Nihilo in the ground once and for all so they could flush out KorTac wasn’t particularly helpful for team morale, but it meant that you didn’t need to worry about your lover getting shanked anymore. 

If you were being honest, you couldn’t help but feel he deserved it a little given it had been his bright idea to rile you up in the first place. That’s what you get for trying to show off in front of Ghost. However that didn’t mean you didn’t still worry for him, far from it. You were practically biting your tongue off whenever König would happen across your path. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you the love of your life aint in your chain of command Soap?”

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

You snorted as Soap shot you a glare. He’d momentarily distracted himself from pinning Ghost only to end up rolled over and under the heavy frame of the Lieutenant - who he’d only just managed to hold down himself. His body landed on the ground with a thundering crash, and at the very same time he let out a small ‘oof’ you held your hands at your mouth and tried to hold back on the stream of laughter threatening to burst out. Not that that was any use, you were breaking in no time, squealing like a kid. Served him right for getting cocky. He’d been leaning hard into Ghost, his eyes level and lips caught in a ridiculous smirk. 

“Looks like the next rounds on you again, Johnny boy!” Ghost chuckled, releasing Soap before he snapped something.

“No! No, no, no, I call bullshit on that,” Soap huffed, jumping to his feet like a jack in the box. “The only reason you won was because that little dick couldn’t keep their mouth shut.”

Your fellow sergeant held an accusing finger up at you, his face going pink in anger. Sore loser. You gasped in mock offence then proceeded to shoot him your best puppy eyes and shrugged, perfecting a show of innocence that would make an angel weep. 

“Me?”

“Yes you! Love of your life’s not in your chain of command’,” he echoed, pitching your words up like a little girl. “Fuck off!”

“I don’t sound like that,” you sniggered, watching as his face got redder. “Don’t be a sore loser Soap.”

Soap hit the mat just shy of his thigh, pounding it as if it were a way to wage revenge, working himself up as you and Ghost continued to laugh like hyenas. 

Ghost eventually joined your side, he picked up the water bottle he’d abandoned by his workout gear and took a long gulp, huffing as he lowered the bottle back down. Ghost’s breathing was laboured and you could smell the sharp stench of sweat coming off of him in waves, apparently even with your intervention, that hadn’t been an easy victory. You knew that well enough yourself, you were only barely able to beat him sometimes, he’d earned his nickname just as much as you’d merited yours. 

“I almost had the bastard this time!” Soap huffed, slumping. “If it hadn’t a’ been for you.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better I’ll pay for it,” you offered, rising to your feet. “Given you both go get a shower, you guys fuckin’ stink.”

Soap smirked at that, his eyes regaining their lost spark as if he’d been given a jumpstart. You didn’t care for it. 

“Really? I don’t think I smell too bad,” Soap said, his voice taking on an edge again. “C’mere, let me make you really pay for it!”

“Wait, what are you- ew! No! Get away from me!” 

You squealed as Soap made a dash for you and hopped out the way from his grabbing arms, jumping away like a scared cricket. Unfortunately he was blocking the exit, forcing you into the corner of the room, keeping you on the edge of your toes while he held his arms up, torturing you with the threat of a hug. It took everything in you to keep track of where the mats were and not to slip on the shiny wooden floors, squeaking with every step you took as you frantically traversed the hall. 

“It’s just like you said Sneaky, can’t fraternise outside my rank. Guess that just leaves you!” He laughed, making another unsuccessful lunge at you. 

“I’m sure Gaz…is around here somewhere,” you said, breathing hard as you continued to duck and dive from him.

Despite Mactavish’s best efforts, you still managed to elude him. When he leapt for you, you strafed away and even when he’d successfully grab your arm, you’d break his hold before he could wrap you in his stinking death grip. 

You were so close to the exit now. You’d danced your way there, too busy walking backwards and throwing Soap off of your intentions that you were taken unawares when you backed into something solid where an empty doorway should’ve been. It was only when two familiar big hands drew round your frame to steady you, that you realised exactly who you’d bumped into. 

“Careful Sergeant,” König said, his voice surely thick with a grin. “I see training in the 141 is as rigorous as ever.”

You sigh, taking a cautious look over at Ghost who has his eyes locked on the offensive figure behind you. Even as Ghost stood there smelling like week old laundry he’d acted as if König had dragged putrid roadkill into the room and asked him to take a bite. 

“You wanna test how good our training is, König?” Soap barked, puffing his chest out like a cartoon gorilla.

You rolled your eyes.

“No thank you, I’m afraid I’d get terribly bored.”

“Funny,” Ghost said plainly, tilting his head. “Maybe we could find out how interesting you find us once you let go of Sneak. Could make sure those dirty mitts don’t linger too long again.”

You could feel his fingers dig into your skin, and with just a cursory glance up to the slits in König’s mask, you knew he hadn’t been meaning to clutch onto you for so long. Though, even in your haste to be subtle you didn’t miss the wink he gave you when he let you go, or the way his fingers brushed against you like falling silk. Clearly someone had been missing you. Probably as much as you’d missed him. 

“Apologies,” he’d said, not able to resist whispering after, “lucky for him he doesn’t know where these ‘mitts’ were last weekend.”

You choked on your next breath and turned so that your back was to the others before they could see your haunted expression. König was becoming a master of landing you in the shit. Even as you tried to glare at him, your paranoid mind wondered if they could see your body buzzing with worry. 

“Why are you here, König?” you asked, voice shaking with a hundred different emotions.

Even under the darkness of his full hood, König’s eyes sparkled with mischief and you didn’t miss the playful raise of his brows. He was continuing to wage war on you, even when you giving him the ‘stop fucking with me’ look. He was going to hear about that later. 

“Curiously enough, Price sent me. He wanted me to tell you to come to his office.”

Everyone’s breaths were collectively stolen from the room. 

“Price? Price asked you to talk to Sneak for him?” Soap said dubiously, first to ask before anyone else could.

You were too busy wondering if he’d figured something out. 

“Funny isn’t it?” König said, his gaze squarely fixed on you. “He was in a rush to sort something and unfortunately for him, I was the only one around. I think you’re being sent off on a mission.”

You didn’t miss the way his voice dropped in disappointment. If you were going away with Price then it was anyone’s guess how long you’d be away for. Last time he’d spirited away with Gaz he’d disappeared for days, and come back afterwards sagging like a melted ice cream. Whatever you’d be doing, it’d likely tire you out just as much and even if you were to come back through the weekend you’d likely be beat just the same. With that in mind, you knew it was unlikely you’d get to carry out your fun weekend plans with König. That meant it’d be a whole week’s wait until you got to meet with him again. 

Fuck.

“Oh…thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course. Can’t ignore an order from the Captain.”

The ‘unfortunately’ didn’t have to be said, it hung in the air between you two like black clouds of smoke. It took everything in you to ignore him from then on, turning instead to your things and stuffing them into your pockets. Your ears burned as they traced his footsteps fading from the doorway, and your chest grew heavy knowing you’d be missing him like hell until you could see him again. 

“Fancy that, Price going against his own orders,” Ghost said, folding his bulging arms over his chest. 

Always looking for a fight. 

“Fuck, probably didn’t even ask that cunt. The thing probably ate the guy that was actually supposed to come get Sneak,” Soap sniggered, finally emerging from his huff.

Oh yeah, they’d taken to calling König names now as well. They particularly enjoyed comparing him to a horrific bug monster which, even as childish as that was, was a little entertaining to you given you knew how much he hated that particular film when you’d tried to show it to him. He didn’t care for monster flicks. 

“I don’t think he’d lie,” you shrugged, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Really? I think he’d stab his own mother just to get a giggle,” Ghost snorted.

Clearly you don't know him very well. You laughed even in spite of knowing that what your Lieutenant said wasn’t remotely true, maybe even because you knew how ridiculous it was. They had a lot of fun making him out to be a raging sadist when as far as they were aware he’d done no worse than them on the field. König would stab himself before a hair on his mothers head came to harm, he practically gave half his wage just to make sure she ate well every month. 

“Maybe. Even so, I better go see what Price wants. Must be deadly urgent if he was desperate enough to send König,” you said, heading back toward the exit. 

“True. Sure you don’t want a reassuring hug before you go?” Soap asked, making a move like he’d come bounding up to you.

“Nope! Not even if this is the job I die on,” you called, speed walking down the corridor before he got any bright ideas. 

-☠️-

Just as König had said, you ended up pulled away with Price on reconnaissance. Now, while you’d much rather have been curled up in a hotel room with König and living out your lazy weekend plans, it turned out being away wasn’t all that bad. For one thing, Price was practically his old self with you again and for another it was good to get away from the rest of the 141. 

Constantly having to listen to them verbally disassemble the man that you were secretly in love with was a lot and it took everything not to sit there and defend him sometimes. Even then that would just result in an uproar about how you let people treat you. At that point you’d take Price’s steady quiet presence and occasional rumbles about coffee and football anyday. 

“You seeing anything Sneaky?”

Price’s hushed voice crackled over your comms, the tiny earpiece was flooding with interference from the busy market. Crowds of people swarmed and overflowing stalls that were bursting with goods, with salesmen boasting about their produce and wares like it was the last day on earth to buy anything. The heat beat down on your back and your outfit did little to help with the glaring sun, one of the pitfalls of wearing baggy clothing to conceal weapons. Your scent mingled with the rest of the sweltering bodies that bumped your sides and moved around you, but most of all you scented the rich foods and the old antiques that filled the stalls. Your senses were going wild, overstimulated to the max. 

“Not a fuckin’ thing,” you finally muttered.

You’d been sent out to intercept a meeting between two Ex Nihlio members, according to intel gathered from KorTac earlier in the week they were supposed to meet by one of the spice stalls. It was your job to route them out and figure out if they knew anything about Rousseau’s whereabouts. Only issue was that you were drowning in spice stalls. Both you and Price had taken turns dressing up like tourists with your big nikon cameras and neon bags and were playing a game of spot the terrorist cell with only a prayer that you hadn’t already missed them. 

Price was taking his turn up on the roof, nestled conveniently in a skillion like a bird of prey about to strike, watching and waiting with his binoculars up and gun at the ready. You felt safe knowing he was with you, his mumbled words of reassurance kept you sane as you traversed the labyrinthian pathways over and over and had to pretend to take an interest in various trinkets. 

However, you’d been on the streets for a couple hours now, you knew that soon enough you’d have to swap again and it’d be your turn to play sniper on the roof. That was - If your aching feet were anything to go by. You sighed and took a look around, deciding to do one last sweep around the stalls before you joined Price and relieved him of his position. 

“Hold on Sneak, turn around - don’t be obvious,” Price said, voice coming in low and grizzled from disuse. 

You froze in your spot and swallowed, committing yourself to your new task, taking a moment to look through your pockets before palming a warm penny. With a fake gasp, you sent it rolling behind you and leaned down, walking a few paces so that you could retrieve the penny off the ground while looking around for the source of Price’s interruption. When you looked up to the row of stalls across from you, you saw what he’d tipped you off on.

“Try to get in close.”

Situated next to an array of autumn coloured spice piles, were two men wearing dark shirts and trousers, talking hushedly to one another. While you couldn’t be absolutely sure that they were Ex Nihlio, you knew that it didn’t look like they were there to shop. You glanced away from them for a moment and set your sights on a curio stall next to them, stepping almost silently over the gritty path until you reached your target.

Their voices were low, coming in softer than a light breeze, but still you managed to catch a little of what they were saying and you knew the receiver would too. You tilted your head toward them, trying to give Price the best chance of hearing them too; all while you picked up a tiny bird figure barely bigger than one of your digits and held it to your eyes. You softly ran your fingers over the wood like you might bring it to life somehow and turned it this way and that, inspecting it carefully - it was important to make your fascination with the object look convincing. 

“Your orders are clear, you are not allowed to move forward.”

“But we have everything in place, we’re ready! I don’t understand.”

The men were tense, their voices strained as they endeavoured to stay quiet. 

“We have to be more reserved now. Ever since…he was taken and the tourists were found, things have been different. Plan’s changed.”

“What! because his-”

“Quiet! Not another word. This visit in itself was a courtesy only extended to you, we’ve had to stop everything we had planned, things have changed.”

“I don’t accept that. We have to keep the momentum going or we won’t be taken seriously.” 

You breathed out quietly, watching as the stall owner started approaching you and you let a smile melt onto your face, trying to keep up the dumb tourist charade. The woman looked keen as she approached, face reminiscent of a fox’s with her eager golden eyes and high cheekbones. Her lips were curved into a grin and she hunched over the counter tactically surveying her eyes over your form. She was probably anticipating someone stupid, someone that could be easily fleeced. 

“It’s a nice statue isn’t it? Are you interested in buying?”

“Uh, yeah I think so, it’s really cute,” you said with a short unsure laugh, trying to keep your voice low enough for Price to hear over. “How much is it though?”

Regrettably for her you weren’t going to be the easy mark that she’d assessed you as. Nevertheless, you still hoped to god she wasn’t going to ask for too much. You’d figured before setting out that you needed to buy some stuff so that you could blend in, but you hadn’t brought an awful lot and you’d already gotten some pastries and drink with the paltry change. Plus the little swallow, for all its tiny size, was very detailed, it’s little carved tail and wing feathers and dark wood would surely drive the cost up. Then there was also the fact that there was no way you’d be able to just accept the given price, you’d have to negotiate so that you had a reason for sticking around. 

While you desperately strained to try and hear the argument ensuing between the two men next to you, you weakly haggled with the woman giving her numbers that her lips upturned like a direly unamused theatre mask. Eventually though you both reached an agreement and the little figure was yours, but now you had to work out your next move. 

“‘We are from nothing, and we will fight each day until they can never reduce our names to the dirt again’- remember when that was our calling? Remember when we committed to a cause that day, does that mean nothing to you? We must act now!”

“It must mean nothing to you, if you are willing to risk everything just for a moment of glory.”

You didn’t have to struggle to blend in much longer. 

A loud shot rang out above the swathes of people around you and suddenly the entire market descended into chaos and terror, people ran and screamed and hid; fleeing like pigeons. You looked over to where the two men had been and saw only one now as he rushed away into the crowd while the other lay dead and bloody on the ground. The man’s pupils were tiny pin pricks staring emptily into the glaring sun, all life torn from the deserted vessel of his body. He’d gone back to nothing after all. 

“Price, I'm going after him.”

You tore your eyes from the dead man and chased after his killer, trying desperately to catch up as he faded into the crowds. You weaved and ducked, trying to remain discreet even still as you traced his path and took advantage of the wake he left in the crowd. He was like a speedboat tearing through choppy seas, disgruntled people were pushed to the side and made to move as he bulldozed through and gave you plenty of opportunity to follow. 

“You need to stop, Sneak. We don’t know if he has friends hiding around the area! Do you hear me? Stop! Sneak, how copy?”

Price was too late. You’d collided with the man already, strategically shoving him into an alleyway and underneath your body. You both breathed hard, groaning as your knees and his back made contact with the hard ground, but neither of you could afford to feel it for long. He fought his way up, reaching for a knife he’d stowed in a thigh pocket and attempted to plunge it into you before you disarmed him, smashing his wrist against the wall and pounding it with your other. 

“I got him pinned down, we’re in the alley a few streets up, he’s fighting back pretty hard,” you growled, thoroughly out of breath from trying to subdue the squirming screaming man. 

“That’s not what I ordered!”

“Well what are my orders now?” you asked, gritting your teeth as you punched the man, narrowly missing being hit first. 

Price didn’t speak for a beat, the silence was tense as you fought to subdue your target, filled with your gasping breaths and struggling bodies scraping against the grit like sandpaper. You could practically feel the steam that was pouring from Price’s ears coming in through the earpiece, sweat was pooling all over your body, exertion and heat were kicking in. After a moment, your captain finally responded through gritted teeth, his voice crackling all the more as you realised that he was on the move. 

“Coming to you now. Hold him there.”

Easier said than done. You felt like a bull rider as you bucked around on top of the stranger trying to subdue his movements with as little force as possible. While it was important to make sure he was kept down and kept quiet, you couldn’t do too much damage or it was worthless even stopping him in the first place. Clearly this man was in contact with Rousseau or at least someone very close to him, so it was of the utmost importance that you brought him in lucid and ready to spill. Or rather spill after some convincing, the look in his eye was that of a man that wouldn’t give you any satisfaction for nothing. 

His teeth were bared at you like an animal, one of them metallic and glinting in the sliver of light that emerged through the darkness. His eyes were wild like a feral lion. There was something about his face that terrified you in that moment, the sheer determination to kill you, the will of a man with conviction in his cause to tear you down. You had the upper hand though, finally you’d been able to reach the pistol you’d secreted away at your side and pulled it on him, holding it against him with a soundless ultimatum. 

“Get the fuck off me! I’ll have your eyes for this, fucking scum!”

The man ranted and screamed, but even still you weren’t deterred from your task. You kept him pinned down with the gun snug at his temple, praying that Price would be there soon. Luck wasn’t on your side that day though, rarely ever was, suddenly you were sailing onto your back. Stars filled your vision, light melting as the sky faded far away. It was somewhat reminiscent of what you’d seen happen days before, Ghost on top of Soap after his failed victory, Soap stuck to the ground like a monkey under a tigers paw. 

“Are you alright?” a voice asked.

Someone that you didn’t recognise, an accent you couldn’t place. 

“I’ll be fine! Finish them off and let’s go,” your target responded.

You winced, expecting that to be your final moment, the last thing you ever heard was a dismissal of your efforts. Through the murky darkness two eyes flashed through your head, two crystalline pools that opened like planets in the empty space of your mind. In your mind, König looked back on you smiling, his watchful gaze always reminding you of an angel while he loomed over you, bare chested and warm just like he’d been at the hotel.

Had that been your last though you would’ve died happy, you decided. 

Though you weren’t going to die that day, not yet. Another gunshot blasted through the atmosphere, ricocheting in your ears, but as you were still around to hear it and you weren't lying there in blinding pain - well not any more than you’d felt before the gun fired - you deduced the man had missed. Instead another man’s scream rang out and a flurry of footprints followed, scraping to get away. 

You opened your eyes, finally able to see again, but felt blinding pain replace your stolen vision. It coursed through your skull and rattled through your back, making you hiss as you sat up and stradied yourself on your scraped up hands. Colours and shapes swelled and swirled before your eyes before condensing and becoming clear. Price took form in front of you seconds later, his hands tight on your shoulders as he grabbed you and gave you a look over, running his hand gently over your head as if you were his child. 

“What the fuck did I tell you?” he muttered, eyes narrowing harshly as he realised you were ok. “You had no idea who else was there and wouldn’t you know it - who should show up, but one of his little friends”

“I…I already had him before you said to let him go,” you groaned, blinking furiously as you tried not to let the darkness at the edge of your vision take over.

“Is that right? Well, well done to you and your fucking initiative,” he groaned, “Look at you, you look like you’re going to fall apart. Are you ok, can you see?”

“Feels like it too,” you said, smiling weakly. “I can see, things just got hazy for a second there…Did you send the rest of the team after them?”

Price rolled his eyes, the bags under them looking pinched as he kept looking you over. Another group of soldiers had been kept on standby, ready to swoop in and drive you and whoever you might capture, but it didn’t look like Price was thinking of them then. He was focused on you, kneeling across from you and surveying for any changes. He let go of your shoulders, instead propping you up against an old crate that sat abandoned in the alley. 

“Course I sent them,” he said eventually. “Don’t think they’ll catch up though.”

“Fuck,” you hissed, feeling the full weight of the blow to your head.

“How bad’s the wound?” you asked, wincing as your fingers came away from it with blood. 

“Not bad. Not good either though,” Price deadpanned. “I’ll walk you out of here in a minute. I just want to make sure you’re going to stay awake.”

“Walk? You mean we can’t call an Uber?”

Price didn’t see the funny side of your joke, he shook his head and ran a hand through his beard, taking extra time to scratch as he reached the thicker sides. He was deep in thought, trying to process what had happened, and work out where to go from there. There was a look in his eyes he always got when he was catastrophizing, and you could tell he was in full crisis mode. His steady hands and stiff posture only served to throw off people that didn’t know him well enough. 

“What is it?”

“Two of em’ have seen your face now.”

You had already thought of that. 

“I know,” you said quietly, finally looking away from him. 

Neither of you said anything else for a second. You focused in on the crowd behind you instead, the people that still rushed through the streets trying to avoid a silent threat that had already run far from their paths. Their voices and scampering feet echoed and danced through the alleyway, distracting you from your pain for a moment. Thought still coursed through you in the background, remained swirling through your body like a snake constricting around your brain and back.

“We need to get you out of here and get you to a medic.”

You nodded, you wouldn’t fight him on that. A medic would have pain killers. You tried to rise on your own, gripping the rough wooden crate like a lifeline, but found yourself almost collapsing again until Price rushed to your side and held you up, grunting as he bore your weight. Through the vignette of your fading vision you could see the tight lipped grimace he was giving you and knew you were probably sporting a similar look of your own. 

“Don’t try to move on your own, let me help you,” Price growled.

“You gonna carry me all the way back to car?” you asked sceptically, remembering how far you had to go. 

“Can’t bloody well leave you. We don’t know if that bastard’s got more friends hanging around.”

“You could stick me in another alley and bring the car closer?” you asked, already knowing what his answer would be, 

“Not a chance. C’mon, get moving those feet. That’s an order!”

Stubborn. 

You grit your teeth and felt the pain shoot through your back and curl up in your stomach as you moved. You knew you hadn’t broken anything, but you were still feeling the effects of getting winded and the weeping head wound wasn’t helping matters either. Bile rose in your throat at the thought and even as Price kept his arm slung tightly round you, you felt your feet waver and drag across the ground, felt your mind struggling to keep going as your body began to give up. 

“Talk to me. Don’t give out on me now,” Price demanded, his breaths coming out punchy like wind hitting a sail. 

“Talk about what?” you laughed, wincing with the movement.

“Anything. Keep yourself focused, talk about anything.”

“Ok,” you conceded, thinking for a moment as you were dragged through an empty street. “Why’d you send König to come get me the other day?”

“Really? That’s all you could think of?” Price scoffed.

You were in too much pain to feel any shame or hesitation about pushing. In fact, it was the perfect time to bring up König because there weren’t going to be many other chances for you to leverage a head wound to discuss the subject. It was the perfect thing to direct your energy on and keep you upright. 

“You’re the one that told me I wasn’t to speak to him again,” you said measuredly. “It made me wonder why you’d send him to speak to me.”

“He was the only one around and the General wanted us gone ASAP.”

“You could’ve messaged.”

“I needed to make sure you knew to come right away.”

“Are you saying I’m not reliable?” you grinned, almost tripping on a fallen basket because you were so pleased with yourself.  

You and Price stopped just before your feet could stumble over the fallen produce and rerouted around it, huffing with exertion. Price’s back was sweating just as much as yours and once again you found yourself cursing at the sun, vowing that you would never spend another minute more in the heat if it meant you could be sent to a cold room with a full deck of meds ready at your disposal. 

“If you really want to know, I figured I could trust you now,” Price said, readjusting his grip on you. “After all that's happened.”

“Oh really?”

“Well you wouldn’t want to go near him now after what happened would you?” 

You had to hold back a bout of laughter, disguising it easily with a cough. If only he knew.

“Suppose not,” you answered.

“It’s better that way…associating with a man like that, you’d only end up at the top of someone’s shit list.”

“You think he’s got enemies?” 

“Why else do men like Ghost and König wear masks?” he huffed. “You’d be vulnerable with him, even if he is a one man army. He couldn't protect you if the people he’d pissed off came after you.” 

You pursed your lips and looked toward the end of the street, sighing as you remembered the car wasn’t that far away. The last thing you needed when you were trying not to go wobbly was Price making you doubt König. Instead you faced forward and kept on marching, narrowing your eyes as you fought off the darkness. 

-☠️- 

“Are you absolutely sure that you like wearing that shirt?”

You laughed as König hovered above you, pausing in his assault on your neck so that he could play with the hem at your neckline. His hemline rather. 

“You said you wanted to look after me this week, didn’t you?”

“Well yeah, but not at the expense of my only clothing,” he said, smiling at you with narrowed eyes.

You rolled your eyes at him and kissed him, planting your lips firmly on his so as to silence his protests. All was right in the world again. You’d been dismissed for a week because of your head wound, something about you having suffered from a concussion before so you were being forced to take leave and had decided to spend your time wisely. In other words, telling Price you were going to visit family, when in actuality you were shacked up in an airbnb close to the base so that König could come visit you and stay the night. 

Eventually he broke away from you and shook his head, rolling off the bed and causing an earthquake, causing the springs to groan and for the mattress to shake like jelly beneath you. You watched him as he stood and stretched. His body illuminated by the streetlamps outside the windows, the dull yellow contrasting harshly with the dark blue shadows that snaked over his taut muscles, meeting like intertwined fingers at his ribs.

“Is it because it's the Rammstein one?” you asked, sitting up to admire him easier. “Because I’m taking good care of it.”

He shook his head again and made his way to the door. 

“I know you’re taking good care of it. I just don’t have a lot of shirts to wear,” he explained, disappearing for a moment. 

You huffed and folded your arms, obscuring the blocky logo in the tangle of your intertwined limbs. The guilt trip wasn’t going to work, this was your shirt. You felt like you’d earned it after you’d forgotten home comforts and stayed in a stranger’s house all to be with him. Not that he wasn’t taking fantastic care of you. 

You watched as he came back in with a couple glasses of water and set them down on each of your respective bedside tables and disappeared again so he could grab two bowls, walking in with steam obscuring his face. You unfolded your arms, forgetting all about your upset and took in what he’d brought you. He’d heated some soup for you both and ensured that you were propped up nicely before placing yours in your lap, joining you at your side so that he could eat his. The smell of parmesan and vegetables drifted into the air, forcing your stomach to growl in anticipation. 

“Thank you, König,” you hummed.

The soup was delicious. It was unmistakably from the Italian deli that König knew you liked to frequent as a treat and you’d deduced he must’ve been earlier in the day to pick up a takeaway just for you. Even if he were being a stickler about his clothes, he still remained sweet and ensured you had every little comfort you could want for while you recovered.

Truth was, you hadn’t really felt that bad once you’d been patched up and given a few Codeine. The pain in your head had dulled to a low thud and more than anything it was background noise to the host of other complaints you could make about your battle torn body. Though König wouldn’t hear of it. He demanded that you stay in bed as he fussed around you and cuddled you like a sickly kitten. It was a wonder you were allowed to even roam the apartment by yourself with the way he coddled you, a miracle you weren’t wrapped in cotton wool and shrunk into his pocket for safe keeping. 

“Why is it that you’d want to wear one of my dirty shirts anyway?” König asked, breaking the silence.

You snorted, only just swallowing the spoonful of soup you’d taken and shrugged, a coy smile weaving its way onto your face. 

“It smells like you. Makes me feel safe,” you said finally, only a smidge embarrassed.

“And what do I smell like?”

“I dunno…just like you,” you shrugged. “Manly I guess, and I can smell that stupid cheap citrusy soap you use.”

“Don’t belittle my soap just because you like to buy the best,” he retorted. 

“That’s right, practicality over frivolity…How German,” you said with a sly smile. 

He froze mid spoonful, just about to eat another before he paused and shot you a withering side eye. You’d delighted in finding out another way to tease him, getting to play with him all you wanted while you recovered. 

“You call me German one more time, I’m taking the shirt off your back and leaving you naked to fend for yourself,” he said simply

“Oh c’mon, you’d never do that.”

“I just might,” he smiled, taking his last spoonful and letting the cutlery clatter to the empty bowl. “You know the difference.”

“In fairness you did live there for quite a while until you moved back again.”

“Yeah, and that's an even better reason for me to enjoy being Austrian.”

“Such a mean man, poor Germany!”

You playfully shoved at his thigh with your foot and giggled when he caught it in his hand and threw it back. It sent you both laughing and soon you abandoned your soup bowl onto the table and took your little game to the next level, diving onto him before you were promptly flipped onto your back and pinned under König, resuming your usual position.

“Poor Sneak,” he laughed ominously. “Still hellbent on defending the Germans?”

“If I say yes are you gonna do that thing I hate?”

“Only one way to know for sure.”

You huffed out a breath and weighed up your options, deciding if it was really worth being tickled just to keep teasing him. In the end, you didn’t get to decide, you winced as you felt a firework of pain burst through your head and closed your eyes for a second, bunching them shut like you could forget about it behind the darkness of your closed lids. Suddenly you were grateful you were lying down surrounded by the soft topaz sheets. 

“Are you ok? Did I hurt you?” König gasped, stroking his thumb over your cheek. 

“I’m alright, it wasn’t anything you did,” you assured after a second, taking in a deep breath. “I think it’s time for me to take my meds actually. Is it after eight thirty?”

König leaned up from you and rooted around for his phone. You prayed you were right. 

“Yeah, Eight forty. If you sit up, I’ll get them out for you.”

You followed through with his request, inching up the covers and seething with every little jarring shake the bed gave you. It felt like your head was going to burst into a confetti cloud with the amount of pressure that was building. You couldn’t wait till the headaches were done with. 

“Here, take these,” König murmured, handing you the pills and your forgotten glass of water.

You threw them back and drank down a big gulp of water, focusing on not choking as you swallowed them as fast as you could. This was one of the worst pains you’d had with it since it’d happened. Stars twinkled at the edge of your vision until slowly, after a little breathing and König stroking your back, you were able to open your eyes and stare back him as he watched you those big doleful eyes of his. 

“I’m alright now, it’s ok,” you smiled, trying to reassure him. 

“Mm, it’s far from ok,” König hissed, staring harshly to his side for a moment. “If I ever get my hands on those who did this to you, they’ll be sorry.”

You widened your eyes a moment as his fury sunk in and both of you stared at each other for a tense minute. You sat hoping your understanding of the situation might be infectious, wishing he’d accept that they’d just gotten the upper hand. What happened wasn’t personal. He shook his head and let the heat escape him, the fire left his eyes and deflated him, leaving him staring down at the bed a moment until you spoke again. 

“I know how I’d feel if it were the other way around,” you sighed, knowing he’d need a little reassurance you weren’t going to run terrified. “But you don’t need to be angry for me. I’m fine, this’ll all be better in a few days, ok?”

He didn’t speak for a second, not until he looked back up at you. 

“Ok.”

“Good. Now, c’mere and give me a hug so I feel better.”

His smile returned, curving back onto his lips like magic. You smiled in turn and watched as he put your meds back in the drawer by your bedside, but frowned when he paused and stared inside. He chucked the foil packet back in its place but reached in and retrieved whatever had caught his attention, bringing it front of you in the palm of his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked curiously. 

You tilted your head and smiled as you realised it was the wooden swallow you’d unpacked from your bag earlier and shrugged. 

“It was the bird I got from the market that day,” you explained. “I found it when I was going through my bag today and chucked it in the drawer.”

He raised his brows and brought the little figure closer to his face, admiring the fine details of it not dissimilarly to the way you’d stared at it in the market. You tilted your head as you watched him and bit your lip, watching the way his eyes took in the little bird with an intense fascination. 

“Why don’t you keep it?” you offered. “And then you let me wear this for the rest of the week.”

You rolled your shoulders, showing that you wanted to keep the shirt. König chuckled, but after pretending to be deep in thought about it, sporting a deep frown and a pursed lip, he eventually nodded. 

“I suppose I could allow that… we can have shared custody. I get the bird one week and then the shirt for the next,” he said, coming to rest by your side with his arm outstretched, making the bird fly in looping patterns in the air. “Deal?”

You laughed to yourself, but nodded, settling into his warm chest with a satisfied sigh. 

“Sounds like a good deal to me.”

Next Part Here

[lovingpiastri]

TRY HARD

ꪆৎ confessing to your loser best friend after years of torturous mutual pining turned out just like all the coming of age movies so unrealistically depict.

warnings: LOSER OSCAR!!!!, heavily inspired by juno mcguff & paulie bleeker, highschool au, swearing and use of y/n

the fearful football field that any outcast avoided like the plague , dodging invitations of attending late night friday games with no care to tie into the team spirit of supporting a sweaty team of gruesome brainless jocks who use two of their collectively shared braincells to form some strategy to win the game. they're neurons are simply replaced with the gallons of sickly protein powder they consume.

'bring it home', the brainwashed fans roar, disillusioned to the fact they will loose. and they loose hard.

perhaps you just found yourself in the stereotypically cliché coming of age that any other sixteen year old girl existed in whilst blood orange rang out in the background . perhaps you embodied the overly bothered adolescent that rejected the idea of the male protagonist engaging in friendships with anyone but her. that wasn't a perhaps that was an abso-fucking-lutely.

not to present you as insufferable but when the quarter back golden boy detected oscar's skill in something other than reading four hundred words per minute it shook the whole football team to the ground, crumbling a path for him to grasp that bizzarely shaped ball every practice and competitive game.

slowly but surely oscar's absence at your traditional friday night marathon of the big bang theory irked you more than you would admit.. all until you scolded him on your hamburger phone .

backtracking back to the annoyance and irritation you suffered from his sudden truanices escalated rapidly from the typical excuse of just missing your friend . afterall sharing a twin sized bed together since the age of ten when movie night over-ran was destined to have some underlying emotions laying beneath the horizon.

it all slammed you like a jam-packed bus in bio-chem last period of the day, the same lesson osc usually presented himself to the right of you. the one that tolerated your whingeing of how the science stools ached your 'grandma-back' to a pulp.

holy shit you're in love with him... HOLY SHIT YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH HIM!?!?!?

and this is where the cliché rom-com script makes its grand entrance , the ones you and osc would take the mick out of it. but now both of you would have to suffer the anguish of confessions rising above the horizon, much too frigid to talk about your feelings at all to the other. that's the price you pay, for falling for your best friends.

"piastri!" you call out , lungs deprived of oxygen after the non stop sprint you managed to pull off all the way from the science labs and across the yards of grassy terrain the football field consisted of.

"y/l/n? what are you- didn't you say- ... gosh." he didn't know where to begin, seeing you again after that vexatious phone call from a few nights ago was like a breath of fresh air and the oxygen wasn't allowing him to express his emotions through words.

"just let me talk," you step towards him , unable to make out his facial features from the enormously huge helmet that protected his noggin . the patterns of smudged eye black contoured across his cheeks didn't help either, it was a shame you weren't able to see his rosey fluster that erupted on his cheeks after minimal physical activity- calm down y/n!

"i-. . i think i'm in love with you?" you sounded out , the tone of your voice reaching a high you didn't know existed.

"you think?" his teasing tone was already making a come back, despite days of radio silence on both of yours ends. it was like not a flaw in the system occured.

"no- no i know i am !" you're voice reached a panicky rise, realising how your words sounded clear with uncertainty. certainly not how you were expected for this to roll out.

"you mean as friends?" oscar's usual mr. teasing master persona is replaced selfishly with a false hope , desperately reciting prayers in his head to make your confession be the one he's been anticipating since the beginning of freshman year. the year filled with vibrant brace brackets which he saw passed, because oscar still cherished you just the way you are. especially the moments you let him stick colourful magnets from recent vacations across the globe to your metal adorned teeth.

"no.. i mean for real . 'cause you're like the coolest person i've ever met , and you don't even have to try." this time a cheeky grin can be evident in your voice , your pearly whites shining in the spotlight as you stare directly at his face which looked more than silly carrying his well too big helmet.

"i try really hard, actually.." he says with a weak smile , beginning to pull off his tedious helmet to give you a better view of his facial expressions. "sorry- uhm can i kiss you or even a peck?" the anxiety was there, but it would all be at ease as soon as his chapped lips met with your vanilla bean lipgloss lathered ones.

"you don't need to ask osc." you immediately snatch his face down to reach your height, the palms of your hands drenching eye black but not a care in the world was present.

the kiss was tremendously sweet, your inexperienced arses were clashing teeths and tongues in the process but it couldn't be more perfect , you could've even sworn that the melodies of 'anyone else but you' by the moldy peaches were ringing out in the announcement speakers!

©lovingpiastri

[callme-dickmaster]

Basket Case - (Steve Harrington x reader)

Ch. One - King Steve

cw: 18+ (minors dni) this may be v long, afab!reader, language, minimal use of y/n, bullying, (put this one in second person because I felt it fit better) author's note: hey lol

part 2 >>

Friday, November 4th, 1983

You weren't used to this. Being put on the spot in front of an entire class of twenty other kids didn't happen to you. You thought at this point in your school career, the teachers would know you would either self-destruct or stutter like a moron.

"Ms. Henderson? We're all waiting?" Mr. Mundy sniffed, his runny nose making you want to gag.

"U-uh...uh..." you squeaked before scrunching up your face and dropping your head on the desk. Mr. Mundy sighed while the other kids in the class laughed at you. "Anyway, kids, factorizing the polynomials..." the old man's voice slipped to the back of your mind while you mustered up the courage to move your head to see the board through your hair. You accidentally made eye contact with Claire Sims and immediately averted your eyes to the tile floor.

The dismissal bell rang, and you were the first person out of the room. You stalked down the hallway with your head down and weaved through other students to get to your locker. You hissed under your breath at Eddie Munson doing whatever stupid shit he and his bandmates think is funny in the middle of the hallway next to your locker.

"Hey, y/n," Eddie smiled, leaning on the locker beside you. You smacked your hand on yours and popped it open, making Eddie flinch.

"You have any trouble today?" Eddie asked, twisting some rings on his fingers. You sighed and shook your head, yanking out your biology book and lunch bag. "Figures. Tommy and Carol skipped this morning. Gross..." Eddie wrinkled his nose. You slammed your locker shut and stomped down the hallway, leaving Eddie and his Hellfire friends where they stood.

You slipped into your next class and threw your bag on the floor beside yours and Jonathan Byers' table. "Hi," Jonathan mumbled, sending you a small smile.

You glanced at him, sliding your bologna sandwich across the table to take his PB&J like you did every day. "Bologna again?" Jonathan teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. You sighed and nodded, "She knows I hate it. She does it just to slowly kill me from the inside out," you growled. Jonathan chuckled, putting the evil sandwich in his bag.

Mr. Kaminski shuffled into the classroom and mumbled through the lesson, avoiding eye contact with you and Jonathan like the plague until the bell dismissed everyone to the cafeteria. Or, in your and Jonathan's case, to the yearbook dark room so he could develop pictures, and you didn't have to sit alone. You munched on your sandwich and chips, folding your algebra homework into a fortune teller.

"Oh, hey...Will wanted me to thank you for the colored pencils. He loves them..." Jonathan spoke up, smiling at the picture he was poking with tongs. You nodded, tossed your trash, and waved at Jonathan as you walked out. Jonathan waved back and watched you walk to wherever you went after lunch.

You shuffled through the empty halls, enjoying the quiet as you followed cracks in the tile with your eyes. "Oh, God, look at her," Carol Perkins scoffed to her boyfriend and their friends stood in the main hallway. "Jesus, it's like she does it on purpose," Tommy snickered.

Steve Harrington stood from the drinking fountain they were all crowded around. He looked up and down the empty hall, missing you entirely as you slipped around the corner.

"Who?" Steve asked. Carol snorted, "That screwball loser, y/n," she sneered. Steve pursed his lips and nodded, "What's she doing?" he asked the couple.

"She's just fuckin' weird. Like, why does she have to freak everyone out twenty-four-seven?" Tommy laughed. Steve rolled his eyes with a smile.

"Hey, you think Munson put a curse on her or something?" Tommy whispered to Steve. "Like, maybe she wouldn't screw him, and he cursed her for the rest of time?" Carol laughed.

Steve snorted, pulling his bag over his shoulder, "Well, we'll probably never know. I gotta go to history. I'll see you guys," he said, waving to them. Carol smiled and waved before she pulled Tommy in the direction of their next class. Steve sighed, tossing his bag on the floor and greeting his basketball buddies while Mrs. Click rummaged around at her desk for her class papers.

"Okay, everyone! Today, we're going to start on a project," Mrs. Click said to the dismay of the entire class. You straightened a bit in your seat. History was your favorite.

"Please be quiet so I can finish..." Mrs. Click sighed, "You'll be working in groups of two with one group of three. I'll be partnering you up this time. You can thank Mr. Carver for that..." she said, sending a pointed look to Jason Carver, who shrugged with a smug smile on his face. Mrs. Click sighed, sitting at her desk again to slip on her glasses and call out names.

"Okay...Jimmy and Robin..." she started. You laid your head on the desk and started scribbling a drawing of Robin Buckley sitting behind Steve Harrington. "...and Steve and Y/n! Okay! So, go ahead and get comfortable with your partners because this is where you're sitting for the rest of the semester," Mrs. Click said.

Steve couldn't fucking believe it. No way Mrs. Click just partnered him up with a spaz like you. Like, seriously? What did he ever do to her to deserve this?

"Um, hey, Steve? Can Jimmy take your spot? Everywhere else is full," Robin Buckley asked, tapping his shoulder. Steve blinked and nodded, mumbling a "yeah, sorry" before he grabbed his things and crossed the room to the empty seat beside you. You were still in your own world, scribbling away and glancing at Robin every few seconds. You licked your finger and smudged the lead around Robin's feet for shadows.

"Uh...hey..." Steve said awkwardly, sitting in his new seat. You paused, turning to look at him slowly through your hair before looking back down at your drawing. Steve sighed, pulling out his notebook. "Shit," he huffed, mad he couldn't find his pencil.

Smack!

Steve jumped and turned to the lump of black hair and clothing next to him that slammed a mechanical pencil on his desk. You slid your hand into your pocket and pulled out another for yourself. You pumped out the lead and kept drawing as Mrs. Click started handing out directions for the assignment. She tapped you on the shoulder and gave you two pieces of paper. You blew your bangs from your eyes and read over the outline.

Steve tapped his fingers on the desk, awkwardly watching you read over the paper. "D-do I get one? Or..." he trailed off, trying to read it. You smirked, licking a full stripe up your palm to your fingertips. Then, you separated the papers and passed him the one you decided was his. Steve pursed his lips, grabbing it with as little contact as possible.

"Thanks," he mumbled. You giggled and started writing down some ideas you were already well versed in and ones you knew you could do alone if Steve decided he was too good to even try to do the work.

"Alright, you'll have the rest of this class period to work and until next Friday to turn this in. We'll do any presentations the following Monday. Okay, have fun," Mrs. Click said. The class started talking and scooting desks together except for one pair that sat silently while one wrote down ideas and the other watched curiously.

"U-um...I think we should do the sewing machine, the telephone, or the Model-T... I'll let you pick," you said, pushing your paper toward him so he could see your long list of project ideas, including some other things from previous subjects you thought would get extra credit.

Steve let a smile pull at the corners of his lips before he snuck another look at you. You returned to your Robin picture and were bringing out the curls in her hair when Steve spoke again. "You're really into this stuff, huh?" he asked. You just nodded, smudging your art.

"Shit! Did you draw that?" Steve asked, scooting closer to you, which made you move a couple of inches away.

"S-sorry...did you though?" he asked again, raising his eyebrows. You hesitated but nodded, pushing it his way so he could see. "Wow...hey, that's the girl that sits behind me, right?" Steve asked, looking at the drawing up close. You nodded, picking at your fingers and biting your nails.

"I get bored when we talk about stuff I already...know about..." you mumbled, shading in Robin's shoes.

"That's really good. You should show her," Steve said. You shook your head. You would rather die than give anyone you've drawn their picture. Especially a complete stranger you only share a class with. Steve shrugged, "I think you should, but it's your drawing," he said, looking back down at the list and circling two of the subjects you picked.

"How about these?" he asked, passing the paper back. You scratched your nail over the circles and shrugged, grabbing a highlighter and highlighting the two subjects plus an extra credit subject you thought would be good enough.

"I'll be in the library after school until four-thirty. "Don't be late, King Steve," you said before you grabbed your things and fled from your seat. Steve almost got a word in, but you were already across the room, standing in front of Robin. "Here, I drew you," you said, giving her the drawing and walking away. Robin's eyes widened, looking down at the drawing and back up at where you stood two seconds ago.

Steve sighed, tearing a page from his book and writing a note for his new obsession (Nancy Wheeler): "Meet up tonight? Pick you up at 7." He slipped the note into her locker and struggled through his last classes of the day until the bell sounded, and Steve had to sit in the library for two whole hours with you. He was a little scared to see what would happen if he didn't show up.

Walking into the stuffy room, he saw you sitting at one of the tables in the back, doodling away at another picture. "Hey," Steve said, setting his stuff down and grabbing his history books. You glanced at him, closing your drawing and grabbing your books.

The hours flew by faster than you both thought they would. Steve thought your constant silence would drive him crazy, but the moments he did get you to talk were nice. You always seemed to want to say more and talk about whatever was on your mind, but you stopped yourself every time. You were just afraid of getting made fun of. You didn't like Steve very much and knew who he was. Acting all nice and pretending he cared about what you had to say wasn't enough for you to even begin to trust him. He was an asshole, and that was all he would ever be to you. Nothing more.

"So, do you wanna...work on it Monday? Or..." Steve asked, standing with you.

You shrugged, "That's fine. I don't think going to your house would do much good anyway, so, yeah, that's cool," you said, checking your watch and making your way to the exit. Steve furrowed his eyebrows and jogged to catch up to you. "W-why would you think that?" he asked, glancing up and down the hallway.

You rolled your eyes, clutching your books to your chest, "For the exact same reason you're looking around, making sure nobody can see us talking," you said, pushing open the door to the parking lot.

Steve sighed and closed his eyes. He'd been caught. He didn't know why he cared so much if people saw. It's not like he would immediately be labeled a loser if someone saw him hanging out with you. He just didn't want his rep taking any hits...like an asshole... But it's not like he wanted to be friends with you anyway, so it didn't even matter in the first place.

"Look, I gotta go get my brother. See you Monday, Harrington," you said, turning on your heel and walking into the parking lot. Steve sighed, spinning his keys on his finger and going to his car. He sat in the driver's seat, watching you climb into your green Chevelle and toss your bag in the back seat.

You sighed, thankful Dustin's bike was coming out of the shop the next day, and she wouldn't have to drive him around anymore. You loved your brother, but he was a pain in the ass.

"Dustin! C'mon!" you called, rolling your window down. Dustin held up a 'wait' finger to his friends and ran to the car. "Hey, can we take the rest of the party home too?" he asked. You sighed, sending him a look. Dustin pouted, pulling the best puppy dog eyes he could. "Fine. Are they going to their homes, or are you guys keeping me up all night?" you asked as Dustin hopped in the passenger seat. The other party members shoved their bikes into the trunk and squeezed into the back.

"Thanks, y/n!" Will said, buckling in. "Yeah, thank you!" Lucas and Mike said. You sighed and nodded, starting your tape and driving off.

love you <3

[dollveis]

⠀ ⠀ MOTH TO A FLAME !

ELLIE WILLIAMS ⠀⸝⸝ but does he know the reasons that you cry? or tell me does he know where your heart lies? where it truly lies. ⸝⸝

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ warnings. +18 content, best friend!ellie x fem!reader, mention of sex with a man, reader is dating a man for the first few paragraphs but they break up soon in the fic, kind of emotional cheating tho, dealer!ellie + mention of usage of weed, reader checking out ellie all the time, it's hinted ellie masturbated thinking about reader and reader did too, ellie's actually kind of a loser lesbian but with a tough facade, idk if there's something more. 4.5k WORDS.

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ vi's sticky note. so... i was watching tiktok and this appeared, some tiktok fake scenarios also helped me. this took me forever and i pretty much hate how rushed is.

⠀⠀⠀

IT DIDN'T FELT RIGHT, it didn't felt right how his hands roamed through the valley of your hips or how his lips sucked the skin in your neck, leaving soft reddish marks. It didn't felt right how his knee started to make space between your bare legs. It didn't felt right because he wasn't her and just that thought made your heart soak in guilt because he was actually everything you wished once.

Andrew was the type of guy Disney movies showed, with pearly white teeth hiding behind a cute smile, eyes that looked at you with burning adoration and desire, gentle with you and your wishes, the type of guy you would want to bring to your parents house and your friends adore but he was not the type of guy you wanted anymore. Because you didn't want Disney's pretty prince, maybe you wanted your hot lesbian best friend.

Fuck.

"Andrew... can we stop?" your voice coming out almost silent, "i'm not feeling well today," your lips forming a twisted smile as you pushed his shoulders and weight away from your body slightly.

"Oh, sorry, baby," his eyes opening in surprise as he got away, sitting next to your body only covered by your underwear, "i was doing something you didn't like?"

"Oh, no," liar, "it's not that," you were being such a liar. I mean, he was not that horrible at sex and the first times you didn't mind it until Ellie got a stupid girlfriend and your mind kept thinking about how she fucked her when your boyfriend was on top of you, trying to find his way to your inside. Your mind kept thinking about how well she could fuck you with a fake dick, probably better than your own boyfriend.

And you were tired of your own mind because well, you just knew Ellie saw you as her best friend and you should do the same, you had a boyfriend, why your heart wanted to run next to the freckled girl? why deep in your mind you felt you only started date Andrew as an attempt to stop looking at Ellie's lips when she spoke, to stop staring at her freckles longer than a normal friend would do. To stop your heart from racing as fast as a bird's one when she sang love songs looking directly at your eyes, feeling hers drowning in your soul and her essence crawling into your heart, invading it like a plague.

Your boyfriend hummed, stare lost at the back of the room, "it's just that... i feel something's wrong," he turned his head to look directly at you, "like you're not feeling us anymore," his words echoed in your brain, taking you by surprise, you knew Andrew avoided serious themes just like a kid. He had the bad habit of acting deaf towards problems, hiding them under the bed hoping they're gonna resolve by themselves.

You're not feeling us anymore, did you felt you both at some point? or were you just lying to yourself from the start?

"I've been tryin' to ignore it but i can't keep playing dumb," his voice started to escalate, sounding more desperate with every word he was saying, "where your heart truly lies? is it with me?"

"Andrew," you sighed, "what are you trying to-"

"Or with her?" his words kicked directly to your heart, your voice suddenly stuck at your throat, completely tangled around it making you unable to answer and incapable of lying to him and to you once again.

If like your lack of words and silence gave him the answer he nodded, getting up and sighing. Fixed his hair with his right hand as he roamed through his room, first looking for his clothes and dressing up with some basketball shorts and a white tee. For you, you just were frozen there, sitting with your legs crossed at the end of the king sized bed, your mind running as your prefrontal cortex screamed to you for unconsciously follow the insular and your feelings, telling you how dumb you are but... you couldn't help it.

"I like you but i'm not keep acting like i'm blind," he stood up in front of you, towering you, "i think is for the best to take a break until you find out how you really feel," he handed you your clothes and your hand grabbed them as you finally had the courage to face him, "i'm gonna let you change," he avoided your stare, walking towards the door and leaving you alone with yourself and your guilt.

You wish you felt bad, you wanted to feel something at least something minimum. Whatever it was, whether it was rage, sadness, loneliness, something, but you didn't, absolutely nothing. Well, there was something: relief, and that feeling just incremented the guilt in your heart, your almost perfect boyfriend basically broke up with you?

The boyfriend everyone adored but you.

You reached for your jeans, pulling out your phone from one of the back pockets, unlocking it, 1:00 𝐀𝐌. Not late enough yet.

⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀els 💌

can u pick me up?

please ellie, hurry up

⠀⠀⠀

???

thought u were spending the night w ur lil bf

⠀⠀⠀

just come pls

⠀⠀⠀

is everything okay? im at a party at jesses place so gimme 15 mins

⠀⠀⠀

You chuckled at how ironic it was that the first person you talked to after Andrew's words was the apple of discord between you two, but you didn't do it with intention, she was your best friend, the closest friend you had. Your safe place.

Without wasting time you dressed up and made sure you had everything in your bag, wanting to avoid having to go back to his place at least for tonight.

The buzz in the back of your black jeans making you instinctively pulling it out, hoping it was the auburn haired girl who texted you, when you turned on your phone the first notification that popped out was a 'im at the corner' from Ellie, as an answer you just left her in read, hurrying up to grab your bag and throwing it at your back, heading towards the door of the room. Your body stopped for a second at the frame of the wooden door, analyzing what you would say once you step out of your now ex boyfriend's room.

Just say goodbye and go you breathed, collecting yourself before opening the door, encountering the small living room and kitchen and Andrew sitting at the end of the white sofa, his eyes directly facing you once he realizes your presence.

"I'm leaving," your voice obviously awkward just like your words and your thumb pointing the front door at your left.

"Oh, someone's picking you?" you just nodded, preferring avoid more confrontation by bringing up Ellie was the one waiting for you outside his block.

And after some more awkward exchange of words and stares you left his apartment finally, making you sigh, liberating the air you were containing in your lungs.

'take ur time, dw, i almost got stopped by the police bc i thought something serious happened🙄 just that' Ellie texted again, chuckling at her message you opened the glass door of the pretty expensive block of apartments, looking for your best friend's black car. Her distinctive shitty -which she always denied- car finally entering on your sight.

You make your way to it, opening first the door of the backseat to throw your bag and at the end entering the passenger seat, being welcomed and hugged by the soft smell of weed mixed with Ellie's cologne, a familiar smell that made you feel blanketed and safe.

"Hi," you softly mumbled, kinda escaping her obvious stare.

"Hi?" Ellie repeated you, feeling in her voice how one of her eyebrow was lifted "just hi?"

"What you mean?" as you rested your head in the window of the car you could felt Ellie's body leaning closer to yours, driving your heart to the palm of your hand.

"You tell me," her minty breath skimming your ear and cheek, " since 'm not the one who called at fucking 1 am," her hand reaching your chin, fingertips caressing the edges of your jaw. Abruptly her fingers clenched around it, shivers traveling through your whole spine as your heart started to pound loudly. So loud you were scared Ellie could hear it and if she did, she didn't give a shit about it. The delicious strength she had on your jaw incremented, not to the point it hurted but to force you to look back at her, herr emerald gaze contemplating your face, scrutinizing your features just like she was searching a hint of what happened.

Ellie's scent was making hard to keep your mind focused on her eyes and not in the strands of hair lost in the front of her face or how her mouth was softly opened, the oxygen entering to her body through it instead of her nose. And, oh God, her nose, sparkled with some freckles that travelled from her right cheek to the left one, making it seems like a small constellation was drawn all over her face, one that expanded softly to her shoulders and chest covered with a white wife beater and a sage green flannel with the sleeves rolled up, her sleeve tattoo in sight to curious eyes like yours.

"You really drive me crazy," Ellie purred with a smirk on her lips, her warm breath hitting your face. Actions like that, like whispering next to your lips or examining your face and figure with a grin, made your stomach tangle in knots and your head dizzy, "you always expect me to run under your skirt when you call my name," her voice getting lower as her grip on your chin started to soft.

Fingers leaving it to roam to your neck, stopping their way in a reddish mark Andrew left there, Ellie's eyebrows furrowing slightly at the thought of his mouth touching you, "and i always do, so you have a point," her body getting away from yours and leaving you almost cold by the absent of her touch, she readjusted herself in the pilot sit and she just lied there, resting her head in her palm, looking at you with her corners of her mouth upturned like she was waiting for you to say something back, like she didn't leave you breathless and intoxicated in her.

"So..." you turned to the front, evading her stare again.

"So are you goin' to tell me what happened or what, because i know you didn't call me because little mister perfect was being the best boyfriend," she chuckled a bit, glancing at her phone screen, "not like he was either way tho."

You tilted your head, curious at what she could meant with that sentence, Ellie brushed it off shrugging her shoulders and whispering a whatever you barely heard. Her hands reaching the car's key, the motor of it making a loud sound.

"Andrew broke up with me," you spoke fastly, almost without spaces between words. Ellie froze, the grip in the wheel softening as her eyes looked at you with open eyes in surprise.

"Andrew?" incredulously repeated, "Andrew Andrew? Like... the tall guy who's basically a himbo? Your boyfriend?"

"Oh my god, yes, Ellie, Andrew, my now ex-boyfriend... and he's not a himbo," eyebrows quirked as you spoke, your arm playfully hitting her shoulder making her chuckle and lick her bottom lip.

"Can't blame me, i wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't know where the clit is... actually, does he?" a big smirk on her mouth and eyes now centered to get out of the place she was parked to drive you home, or honestly drive you wherever you want. Ellie would deny it every time, but you had her how you wanted, you asked and she delivered. That made her feel like a loser lesbian but maybe she was for you.

You couldn't say something back because you weren't sure if he knew, he should know, he's all grown up and fucked more girls than you can count with your hands' fingers. But you weren't sure because Andrew never gave you head -because he said he didn't like it- or even fingered you, he was just into fucking you with his dick.

Ellie's smirk transformed into a sweet smile when she glanced at you for a moment when you kept your mouth shut, one of her hands leaving the wheel to rest it on your thigh, her thumb rubbing it with endearment as the rest of her hand got lost in the inner of your thigh, your mind starting to get dizzy once again.

"I'm just fuckin' with ya, want to talk about what happened, babe?" Ellie had the bad habit of using pet names when she was trying to be sweet and understanding, completely clueless at how 'pretty', 'babe', 'angel' coming from her mouth made your heart -and core- feel.

"It's just... i don't know," you scratched your head, Ellie's gaze on you again.

"What about you start telling me what happened because sorry, but mister perfect was really down bad for you," her eyes rolled at her final words. Ellie never said she hated Andrew, she didn't love him either and she made it obvious with her sarcastic jokes and faked gags whenever he was around you with his arms around your waist or hips but you never thought she hated him, just more that she found him annoying just like she found almost every guy except Jesse and Joel.

"He said i wasn't sure of my feelings for him," your eyes trailing to the front, trying to ignore her hand caressing your clothed thigh or how she examined you with her eyes every now and then, trying to disguise the fact she was the whole reason why you weren't sure of your feelings from your ex boyfriend.

"And you are?"

"I think i've never been sure of my feelings for him," your hands starting to get sweaty from your fear of talking to much and say things you shouldn't.

Ellie hummed, "and why you dated him? He was handsome and shit but dude didn't have much else-"

"Because i liked someone else... and she would never give a shit about me in that way so i guess i thought dating a popular pretty guy would change my feelings, i guess it didn't" your voice interrupted Ellie's, you weren't sure of what you wanted to reach driving the conversation to this topic, maybe just free your chest from this heavy feeling you had been hiding for almost the start of your friendship with Ellie.

No, you couldn't make yourself speak more, you couldn't drop a 'i liked you and i still like you, Ellie' from your mouth.

"You never know, maybe you should try to make a move," Ellie tried to sound lighthearted but she could swore her heart skipped a few beats at your words. Her mind starting roam through her thoughts: what if it's me. There's no fucking way it's me. She just sees you as a friend, Ellie. Don't be delusional, it's probably another girl.

"Maybe," a giggle escaped your lips, just if she knew you were talking about her, "let's not talk about my ex boyfriend more, distract my mind, miss Ellie Williams," your voice sounding playful and your brows wiggling. Ellie was a tease but you could be more and drove Ellie crazy, most of the times making her hard to play it cool.

"Sorry, i don't fuck with girls who just got out of relationships," her green orbs looking directly at you, taking advantage of the stop, "and i don't fuck them either," eyes again locked at the road, the car accelerating at green and your heart about to combust at her words, you hated how easily she would drop shit like that, like it was nothing.

"Whatever, your loss," you rolled your eyes as Ellie's brows quirked at your phrase without looking at your direction, an entertained smile drew all over her lips, "where are we goin'?"

"You choose, Miss Daisy, i can drive you home or we can get something to eat and chit chat in a empty parking lot until the sun rises. Personally 'm starving."

"Something's even open?" your choice already settled without the need of more words.

Ellie's proposal wasn't something you were a stranger of, actually, you couldn't count how many times you both ended up in deserted parking lots with junk food and just the company of each other, specially if one of you was down or just after some party. Feeling like a whole eternity since the last time happened and not because of Ellie's fault but yours, you never distanced from your best friend, you just marked some... distance to try to get your mind off of her but there you were once again, your heart in the palm of your hand and your eyes trailing back and forth from her slim figure.

"There has to be."

A shared precooked meal and joint with Ellie felt like it was what you needed so everything felt right again. Your mind hazy, more than you expected to be when the auburn haired girl offered it to you, probably because you were the one who smoked the most, Ellie almost rejecting every time you handed her the burned paper, maybe she wasn't the most responsible but she was conscious she had to drive you and herself back home.

"I'm gonna have to pay for it?" your chin pointed to the cigarette butt resting in the small, handmade ashtray she had in the car.

Ellie side eyed, first looking at you and later where your chin was pointing. A cheeky grin portrayed on her face, "do you? maybe i would consider a pretty girl discount," her voice cocky, she was playing with you like she always did, "of course you don't have to pay, i offered it to you."

"You're such a loser for the pretty girl discount anyway," your shoulders shrugged, your friend's eyebrows knitted making an expression of the fuck you mean with that which you ignored, "kinda offensive you just hinted you wouldn't do a pretty girl discount for me."

It was kinda funny for her you said she was a loser for the pretty girl discount because until not long ago she kinda was, not like she invited every girl she dealed to but her pretty girl discounts were more of a you're really pretty to pay for my weed instead of a i would fuck you so you don't need to pay, so she stopped when she realized some girls misinterpreted her actions and also because even though you were really pretty to pay for her weed she would also fuck you. Of course she wouldn't say that out loud.

"You're so dramatic, god," her words making you lift one of the corners of your mouth but you didn't answer, enjoying the few cars passing by and the soft night light of the city that was mixed with the yellowish streetlights and the cold light of the moon and stars, her raspy voice breaking the silence, "i guess we're both single again.... aaaand we're arriving too."

You hummed to her last words, your mind more centered about the 'we're both single' part. You totally forgot for a moment Ellie and Cat broke up not long ago as well, you didn't know the exact reasons since when you asked she just said it wasn't really working, that Cat was nice and shit but she wasn't really what Ellie wanted and her words really caught you by surprise. As her best friend you knew Ellie was more of a quality time and gifts type of girl, but when you hangout with them and some more friends a few times them both didn't know how to keep their hands to themselves. Fingers locked, sweet cheek kisses, whispers at each other's ear with giggles Intercalated and fast lovely stares from Ellie's side that sometimes traveled to you but she quickly looked away when your eyes interlocked with jewel like eyes, so of course it caught you by surprise when she told Cat wasn't what she wanted.

"I guess so," you spoke with your eyes glued go the streets outside the car's window, the small block of apartments you lived in entering in your sight and almost every parking space occupied, which made Ellie pant, there was nothing she hated most than searching for a place to park. In the middle of the night. At fucking 3 am, "looks like your ex moved on pretty quick tho."

It was true, even though you were never close to Cat you both had a gentle relationship of acquaintances so it was no weird you followed each other on Instagram, making it impossible to not see the story she posted last night. Cat's waist wrapped by some cute masc's arm, the face of the unknown girl rested in her shoulder as the asian showed to the camera some shot she was taking at a party with blinking neon lights that could make you go blind and some cute love song usually related to the wlw community, the story basically screaming there was something going on between Cat and that other girl.

The freckled girl next to you couldn't help but chuckle at your words, your commentary catching her by surprise as she devised a free spot where she could park.

"Yeah... it's whatever, so have i," she brushed it off, more concentrated on parking -since she was a really careful driver- than how your eyes were blazing at the sight of her.

Of how her hands had a tight grip of the wheel, or how she bites her bottom lip in frustration when she was trying to get the car in the right angle. Your pupils started to roam to sinful places, or at least places you shouldn't be looking like her thighs hugged by her skinny jeans or wondering what she could hide being her pants and her top, even asking yourself if she ever wore a strap outside of the room, completely ecstatic at the thought of her hiding a plastic cock behind those really tight jeans. Your were knees getting weak and your fists clenching as an attempt to calm whatever Ellie was waking up by just... existing?

And of course you couldn't keep your mouth shut, you didn't know how to, more when you were high.

"Proof?" the words slipping your lips faster than your brain had the time to analyze them, the reflex of slapping your hand to your mouth almost automatic but it was too late, Ellie already heard you and if only you could hear her heart beating fast and her mind in panic all the fear that soaked your body would disappear in an instant. Ellie's eyes widened, her chill and playful facade falling apart for a few seconds which she quickly recovered hoping you didn't realize her moment of weakness.

With a dangerous smirk Ellie turned to look at you, her slightly dilated pupils looking up and down at you, "proof?" her voice cooed, her body inclinated to your direction, you gave her an opportunity and she was gonna take it without doubt, "proof would ruin our friendship," her face close to your own more than ever, her right hand leaving the wheel to touch your chin just like she did hours before but this time it was different. Her touch was edging sinful, intoxicating, the growing tension making you swallow with difficult as your thighs pressed together, and she noticed it, she finally catch up the effect she had on you and your body; she always knew she did something to you but never really stopped to think about it until that moment.

Her mind running through all the possibilities able to happen, how your body gave her the hint she could take you to the backseat and eat your heated cunt in that moment, just the thought making her own pussy wet and needy, almost impossible for her to contain the action of cup it over her jeans.

"And we don't want our friendship ruined, right, pretty?" her voice so sweet, so sugar coated, the pads of her fingers leaving your chin once again, just like before. It's not what she wanted, she wanted to eat you in every way possible, thinking about how good her lips would feel against your glossy ones, she was craving for you like you were but she didn't want it to happen that way.

She was scared. She didn't know if you could regret once the heated was gone, if you maybe just wanted Andrew out of your head, she didn't want her heart broke and she wanted you completely conscious and right on your mind. Fuck, behind her cocky smile and confident eyes she was shitting her pants.

But you wouldn't let it go like that.

"Wait!" your hand reaching and grabbing her wrist, "what do you mean?" a flirtatious smile on your lips without you realizing.

You were really making the game difficult to Ellie, if you continued acting like that she was gonna throw everything away and just do it, just surrender to her lustful feelings. And she was about to do it.

"Are you playing dumb or do you want me to be straight forward?" she said in an undertone.

"I want you... to show it if you wanna make this a lil' more interesting," your head tilting slightly with a flirty manner. You made your mind, you won't retreat this time, you didn't know if it was your own confidence or the weed you consumed that gave you the strength to not be scared, or at least not terrified.

Despite the fact Ellie's heart was about to jump out of her chest she did a really good job hiding it with her slick grin growing bigger, sated at your curiosity, at your need and he was gonna reward it... kinda.

You saw her face suddenly getting closer to yours, one of her hands placing now in the side of your thigh almost on your hip, squeezing it, and the other resting in back of your seat, helping her to maintain balance. Her lips ghosting over your own, making you unconsciously close your eyes, awaiting for her chapped warm lips finally pressed against you.

The sight of you with eyes closed, looking almost like an angel, and your lips parted made Ellie even more aroused, you looked so pretty like that and it was something only her could see in that moment, only for her.

To your surprise your glossy lips never met the warm of Ellie's but your ear did, a low chuckle before she spoke slowly and patiently, with such a provocative tone, "if you're that desperate for proof i can show you tomorrow, sweet girl," her lips skimming your earlobe so close to kissing it, your only response was almost a whimper, you couldn't wait.

"But-"

"Tomorrow," her tone demanding this time, "now go, it's really late."

It was late and Ellie's cunt was so heated, her boxers a mess, that she needed you out of her car so she could take care of it just like you needed too.

⠀⠀⠀

Each other's fingers meeting your respective soaked cores, you thinking how full could Ellie make you feel and Ellie thinking how much she wanted to make you a mess of moans and whimper for her and her fingers, just the moon knowing your sinful actions.