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#horrible at explaining stuff like i said
max-the-silly-guy · 4 months
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@cherryfennec the whole two personalities trying to overtake eachother concept between dimentio and luigi (idk I'm horrible at explaining)
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I swear this was funnier in my head
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deanpinterester · 11 months
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REWATCHED NIMONA. SOLID 9/10
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subarashiihibi · 1 year
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logging onto tumblr and seeing blatant ableism was not something i was expecting but Alright
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medicinemane · 17 days
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"Highly respected individuals including henry kissanger..." well I gotta stop you right there, you've got a major inaccuracy cause no one in their right mind respects that man
#I'm barely even joking there; obviously politicians have for whatever god awful reason#but when it comes to actual people; I don't think I've ever heard a single person say anything respectful or even nice about him#not to mention that from everything I can tell he was a fucking idiot who not only did horrible things#the horrible things he did didn't even lead to the outcomes they were supposed to#he kinda just made the world worse for no reason#not to mention me and everyone else for years and years all seemed to collectively agree 'I thought he was dead'#and I didn't respect him enough to even acknowledge him dying at the time#but honestly while I don't believe in celebrating most people dying; it's hard to say the world isn't a better place with him gone#I wouldn't even call him slightly respected; let alone highly#the person who said it seems nice enough; but what he posts is all economics and man...#some of the stuff that comes out of his mouth it's like... I suppose from an economic theory that makes sense#but as a normal human you just sound sick#like any time he frames stuff around how 'companies expect that they'll be able to charge more each year for their products'#like listen... I'm not saying I fully get deflation; but I get enough to realize that it's sadly generally not great#but 'companies won't be able to charge more for their products' is the worst way to explain why it's bad#anyway; my point here is that it didn't surprise me to hear him say kissass is highly respected#but I stand by my assertion of 'respected by who? I ain't met them; all my friends hate his dead ass and want to send him to Cambodia'
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meatmensch · 9 months
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#thinking again abt the horrible things he said to me bc some of them were so stupid and mean i will never truly get over it until i go to#his house with the hammer!!#'why are you interested in the yiddish language' 'well first of all most yiddish speakers are dead it's a dying language it's a fucking#murdered language and i think it's important to preserve plus it's cool' 'well by that logic most english speakers are dead too' here's#what i should have done in that scenario. get up grab my things grab my keys and leave. versus what i did. continued to try to explain to#him why i'm passionate about the culture for hours and he never truly got it.#and it was so funny because the next day HE was all mopey. i was like 'what's your problem' he was like 'i think i feel bad about some of#the stuff i said last night...' here's what i should've said. 'yeah you rat bastard you should feel really bad you suck i hate you beg on#your knees for forgiveness.' versus what i did. a simple dose of the silent treatment#i will never get over this i will never get over this because no one i have cared so much about and thought was so kind and understanding#has been so stupid he's just an antisemite. i was like he's not a nazi he's just dumb. girl when u gotta ask urself 'is he a nazi' get out#of there pronto. and of course i feel stupid for still having feelings about this a year later. but i don't need to feel that way it's ok.#ok i'm tired. goodnight#personal log#back again. reread the texts i sent to my best friend immediately after that conversation like righttt i'm not crazy that WAS mean. thank#you melanie from a year ago!
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end of this game fucking suuuuucks
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daydadahlias · 1 year
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Talented (and I mean really really fucking talented, everytime I start reading one of your fics there comes a point where I just stare at my phone with complete awe at how well written it is or blankly at a wall because something you wrote hits me so deep my mind can’t fully wrap around it)
the game was one word
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raskies456 · 1 year
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my hot take of the day is that I think people who have never taken a single econ class should keep that fact in mind when they talk about economics
#like this isn’t to say you shouldn’t critique economic systems or propose alternatives etc etc#or that people who claim to know economics are unbiased or can’t be wrong (bc let’s be honest most of them don’t know Econ either)#my point is that if all you know about economics is based on tweets you’ve read you aren’t an expert in economic theory#you can def talk about it and ask questions and voice concerns but like. be aware you don’t know that much on the topic?#and don’t treat people trying to explain stuff to you as horrible monsters using big words to confuse you#if people talked about physics the way they talked about econ they’d be posting stuff like#’did you know gravity crushes people???? we need to go to space now’#I mean. some people do talk that way about physics#but a Lot of people talk that way about Econ#and not everyone trying to explain stuff is your enemy#bc if you do know econ you DO know why the current system is bad#456 words#vaguepost#tagging vaguepost bc it was a specific post I saw that reminded me but it’s also v much a general trend#yes it was the Swiss chocolate post like yes the relationship between Europe and SA is incredibly exploitative#no one said it wasn’t#all that happened was that someone said hey the issue here is the exploitation but there’s nothing inherently bad#about one country importing stuff from another country and using it to manufacture stuff#bc it sounded like op thought that was the issue instead of the actual exploitative part#and wow people got mad#however this is also about that post that’s like ‘the fed is literally trying to engineer a recession we should use price controls’#and every other post
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rodneymckays · 2 years
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Hm... Cadman?
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elfanonymous · 11 months
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i just finished watching a drawing tutorial im going to fucking explode
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insipid-drivel · 2 years
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Baby Boomers had a cinnamon challenge they won’t talk about that may be the reason why toothpick-chewers in classic movies are seen as cool
My mother is 65 and right bang in the middle of the Baby Boomer generation, but she’s very cool and does her best to be and stay woke, keep up with shifts in vernacular, and takes care to do things like make sure she’s strict with getting pronouns correct, etc. Her meme game is a little lagging, and she only just discovered the cinnamon challenge. I was surprised to see her... not surprised. If anything, she seemed a bit pleased and said, “Yep, kids are still kids.”
I stared at her for a while. “What do you mean?” I asked her. She’s seen other ancient memes like planking and never had that reaction before. Seeing the cinnamon challenge was downright satisfying to her.
She looked me dead in the face and said, “Sweetheart, I grew up in a time when you could get crystal meth over the counter at the pharmacy. They were called diet pills then.”
“Whaaaaaaat.” I knew that Nazi Germany passed meth around like candy, but that was in the 30′s and 40′s. I had just figured it had been prohibited already in America by the time my mom was growing up. “Did you have a cinnamon challenge or something in school?” I finally asked.
She half-nodded and half-shrugged and said, “Similar. You couldn’t have candy or gum in school when I was growing up. It was about 1969 in San Francisco and parents were starting to limit cigarette smoking to kids under 18, too, so a lot of my school friends were squirming all day long with nothing to at least chew on.”
“What did they do instead, mom?” I asked suspiciously, because she would not bring this subject up after I had explained to her that the cinnamon challenge was dangerous because of how horrible it is to accidentally inhale it into your airways.
“Well... Back when I was in school, you could get cinnamon extract from the pharmacy. It was just cinnamon suspended in canola oil, and you could use it for cooking or treating a skin fungus. Stuff like that,” she explained. “So the boys at my school would take toothpicks and dip them in the cinnamon extract. That’s why chewing on a toothpick was so common back then. If you were trying to quit smoking or couldn’t have chewing gum, you could carry a little bottle of flavor extract about the size of a bottle of nail polish in your pocket and dip a toothpick in it. Then you’d have something to chew on that the teachers hadn’t banned, and you could hide them in your cheek easily.”
“So what did the boys at your school get into, mother?” I asked again. We were still on the topic of ridiculous memes. This had to go somewhere.
She smirked. “Well, after a while, the boys started noticing that the cinnamon extract from the pharmacy was spicy. It burned. So it started to get to be a challenge to see how many cinnamon toothpicks you could hold in your mouth at once. It got so bad that kids would get blisters and burns on their mouths from it, and you could tell if someone had a few of them tucked in their cheek in class because their face would turn red from the neck up like a cartoon.”
“Why have I never heard about this?”
She wasn’t done. “Finally, the teachers figured out what everyone was doing and it became a pretty big deal. Cinnamon extract started getting banned or restricted to adults. Then they banned toothpicks for sale to anyone under 18, too. That’s why it was a sign of being cool, particularly among guys, to walk around with a toothpick in your mouth. It either meant you had a fake ID or that you were 18.”
I stared at her for a long time. “Mom, why didn’t they just use hot sauce? It was California. Didn’t you have peppers?”
Without missing a beat, my 65-year-old mother replied, “Honey, we were white as fuck.”
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fettery-fetterie · 1 year
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"why do you keep making stupid aus only you care about?????"
Because it's funny, anyways
LEATHER PROTAGONISTS AS LC-B SINNERS AU LET'S GOOOOO
I'll just write down their story lines and shit i really haven't develop this that much and don't feel like doing so lmao (also I'll go in order on how their chapters would play + their endings) (also this all for the funny i don't feel like being canon-compliant with neither side lmao)
The entirety of LC-B got "killed" before they could do any mission and the spot was vacant, a perfect opportunity for a wealthy woman to start mobilizing her own plans.
Emily M. takes over LC-B and starts pulling people out of nowhere, but ultimately somewhat useful
Isabella (28): lost her fiancee in the streets of flavor thanks to a (cannibal restaurant) wannabe; ends up killing the guy who fried her life down the drain by methods she thought she'd never use. Wields a huge spear as a weapon
Ceda (~30): kept a decade of his life isolated from the world, losing everything, actively seeks revenge for whoever did that to him; later on he discovers those were just implanted memories and the real guy who suffered that is long gone. Double edged axe as his weapon of choice
Hlev (22): decided to investigate about distortions after his caretaker became one, taking a genuine fascination by them; ends up successfully making her go back to normality. Somehow manages to make an umbrella lethal.
Vishnya (~35): [whoops i have so little about this it isn't worth mentioning, just let's say her wife and daughter are FUCKED]. Gun lady
Marina (29): started researching with her friend about the pianist and how to reach a melody similar to it, later betrayed by said friend by joining (furry musicians group); manages to save said friend by sheer violence power. Dagger girl
"Jumpscare": half his friends got killed by a distortion, leading him to have a HUGE grudge against them, later on realizes it was his love interest who distorted and did all that; fails at first but still managed to bring her back to normal (with hlev's help). Gun user too
Goldie (??, 1st part): an AI made for research purposes, gets heavily repurposed to be LC-B's manager, doesn't know what the hell to do, somehow managed to get dan/te's power (no drawbacks), uses a hammer as self defense weapon, highly unqualified for combat tho
Emily (~25?, 2nd part): daughter of a researcher who got killed by one of his colleagues; distortion herself, wants to avenge her father by killing the guy behind her life being ruined
Fibona (20, 3rd part): daughter's catalyst
Her father was a researcher who managed to land hands with mirror technology, communication only though; he manages to find a version of himself in a WAY better reality which makes him start distorting slowly yet constantly, he leaves her behind before he could harm her
She decides to join limbus thinking it may lead her to her father, sure it did
She ends up developing her own ego,cat the cost of having to kill her dad.
They all manage to have a happy ending i pinky promise. :)
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nanaslutt · 7 months
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so i just read like… ALL your gojo stuff.
now imagine… gojo not being able to hold back and wanting to breed you after you both try those aphrodisiac chocolates… ahem…
i am absolutely terrified of getting pregnant yet have the words most insufferable breeding kink, we exist
Contains: fem reader, aphrodisiacs, masturbation, no prep, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, SOOO much dirty talk, praise, so much cum.., whiped!gojo, established relationship
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
Gojo was talking soooo much shit when you sent him a link to some aphrodisiac chocolates you saw online. He would not stop dismissing that they didn’t actually work; saying none of that shit that advertised any kind of enhancement in sexual arousal ever did.
So of course you had to order the chocolates and really test it for yourselves, making a challenge out of it.
If the chocolates truly had an effect, gojo would do whatever you wanted, and if they didn’t? vice versa. Gojo was game, of course; because he didn’t think anything would happen.
“Bleh- they taste like shit too,” Satoru grimaced, chasing the horrible flavor with a strawberry soda.
“That’s probably because there’s something in them satoru…like the aphrodisiac…,” you shook you head, swallowing the bitter chocolate.
“Orrrr; crazy thought; it’s just some cheap chocolate marketed as aphrodisiacs to make a ton of money off of people like us.” he drawled, throwing his hands up in the air and waving them around when he spoke.
“I really thought you out of all people would find this kind of thing fun satoru.” you said, trying to push his buttons a bit.
“We’ll of course, chocolate and sex? I’m all over that,” he said making you laugh, “but me and suguru tried something like this for fun back in our student days, it was some kind of pill though,” his face twisted in discomfort as he spoke, “just ended up making us super sick tho, yaga got pissed, heh” he laughed, remembering the memory.
“Knowing you two it was probably some cheap boner pill you got in a sketchy bag at the convenience store.. so that might explain it.” you snorted,
He rubbed his big hand over the back of his neck, “yeah, there was like 5 other pills in the bag with it now that I think about it..” he said quietly, making you hunch over in a laugh.
The two of you went about your evening like normal, watching some comedy movie that was on and cuddling together on the sofa. When it ended you went off to change into something more comfortable as you started off to finished the laundry.
You haven’t felt anything extremely out of the ordinary yet; remembering that the package said it might take long for women to feel the affects; but gojo on the other hand was feeling mildly uncomfortable.
His face and neck were feeling warm, throughout the entire movie his big hand was placed on your upper thigh, like always. What was unusual though, was how his skin tingled when he placed it on yours, palms sweating more than usual; he just chalked it up to all the junk he had been eating throughout the day, probably upsetting his body.
When you moved back into the kitchen and started on the dishes the two of you had created in the sink, Gojo couldn’t help but hyper focus on the fat off your ass peeking out of your night shorts.
The way you moved your hips as some r&b music played quietly from the tv. He watched your muscles and tendons move together when you twisted your body around, watching your ankles cross; one behind the other; getting comfortable from where you stood.
Satoru was feeling hot all over now, a large hand coming down to grope himself over his pants when you bent over to put the dishes into the washer, poking out your clothed mound towards him, the fabric of your shorts squeezing your curves just right.
His jaw dropped slightly, breathing heavier as he got off on watching you do such a mundane task like the dishes.
You inserted the pod into the dishwasher, completely oblivious to satoru’s shenanigans as you stood up straight. You noticed when washing your hands that you were starting to feel a warmth washing over your body, and a sort of warm coil tightening in your tummy.
The lightbulb went off in your head when you realized it was probably the work of the chocolates. You quickly shut off the water, towel is hand as you whipped your head behind you to tell gojo what was happening to you; and to inform him that you were going to win this challenge.
Your motions were stopped short as you bumped straight into gojos chest, “Oh! Didn’t realize you were-“ Your words getting cut off when gojo grabbed the bottom of your face, bringing your lips to his, and kissing you hungrily.
Gojo used his other had to slide his arm around your body, pressing you hard into him, letting you feel his erection against your tummy.
He pushed his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your words that tried to excape, “Sa-mm- Satoru-“ you got out between kisses. Gojo shoved his knee between your legs, putting delicious pressure on your cunt as he kissed you like it was his last day on earth.
You had to grip his hair and pull his face off of you to speak, this didn’t really phase him as he targeted your neck instead, biting and sucking on the skin there, “Fuck- s-satoru slow down-“ you moaned when he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.
“Cant, need you-“ he spoke in between his rushed love bites on your neck, moving his big hands to hold your hips as he made you rock your cunt back and forth along this thigh.
Your head was spinning a mild a minute, still trying to wrap your head around the current situation. You expected this to happen; being on the side of ‘pro aphrodisiacs and all; you just didn’t expect it to happen so soon, and for it to have such a strong effect on someone like Satoru.
“S-shit- those chocolates have you m-more worked up than me,” you tried to laugh, voice cut short by a moan when his knee nudged your clit at a particularly mouthwatering angle.
“Need to be inside you,” he ignored you, groaning against your pulse point, hot breath tickling your neck when he spoke.
Gojo was breathing so heavily, his cock feeling like it was about to rip a hole in his pants at how hard he was. “Take em off, now-“ he whimpered, referring to your bottoms as he started pulling them down your legs, panties following suit.
You helped him, gripping his hair and keeping his lips pressed against your neck while you kicked off your shorts off from around your ankles . His hands dropped down to remove his own sweats, too impatient to fully take them off as he pulled them down just enough for his cock to spring out, jerking himself off with one hand rapidly between you; hand holding your hip with his other.
“Let me put it in, please, need to be inside you now-“ he groaned, finally pulling back from your neck; and he looked absolutely wrecked.
This whole situation was giving you whiplash, but you felt bad for him. Satoru’s hands were shaking, face flushed completely crimson, and he was sweating and panting like he just ran a marathon.
He continued stroking his cock, eyes flirting between your pussy and your pretty lips while he waited for them to move, voicing your consent.
His cock was dripping so much pre it looked like he already came. Hard cock still dripping steadily onto his hand and fingers, making his strokes emit loud ‘plp’ sounds into the air.
“Yes, please, give it to me toru,” you spoke, making him let out a moan of satisfaction. You wrapped your arms around his neck when he lifted you suddenly, burring your hands in his hair and face in his neck as he slid his dick into you with zero prep, all at once.
You were greatful the aphrodisiac was in affect, making you so much wetter than normal, and in turn, making the stretch a whole less painful then it would’ve been without it.
You whined at how his massive clock split you in half effortlessly, “Sorry baby- m’ sorry-“ he apologized with a groan against your bruised neck; whatever consciousness he still had left being aware that that might’ve hurt you.
“Shit it’s o-okay toru, just give it to me- fuck-“ You tipped your head back, jaw dropping and releasing a loud whine, giving him more access to mark up your neck while he fucked into you like a mad man; legs dangling over his arms as he held you in his strong grasp, hoisting you up and down on his cock like you weighed nothing to him.
“Holy fuckkk” he whined, vibrations going through your skin, “Need to fill you up, need to fuck you full of my cum s-shit-“ Gojo was working himself up with his words, already on the brink of his orgasm only a couple thrusts in.
He was truly using you like a cocksleve as he fucked into you at an inhumane pace, heavy balls slapping against your ass, strings of your combined wetness connecting to your ass each time he thrusted inside.
He sucked harder against your skin as he felt his first high rapidly approach him. His eyes repeatedly rolling back in his skull at the rhythmic pulsing of your pussy around him.
“Shitshitshit- gonna c-cum, need you to take it all f’me” his deep voice reverberated through you, all you could do is cry and moan our strings of his name and “yesyesyes” while he fucked his first load of the night into you.
“T-take it f-fucking take it yessss” Gojo felt like he was on cloud nine, he had never felt anything like this before. Of course he loved cumming inside you when you had sex but this was different. Every neuron in his brain was telling him to fuck load after load into you; to get you pregnant.
Gojo didn’t actually want kids right now, and you were on the pill so the possibility of him actually knocking you up was low- but not if his aphrodisiac brain had anything to say about it; he would make sure to fucking try.
Ignoring the overstimulation he felt as he humped his cum into you with heavy thrusts, quickly picking up his speed again when he finished spurting the warm ropes of cum into you, making you squeal at his quick recovery.
“Pussy feels so fucking good, so fucking wet sh-itttt” he groaned, dick twitching and abs clenching as he fucked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, sending him straight twords another one.
“T-toru o-oh my god-“ you wimpered, body flopping around limply at the intense pleasure. His cock was drilling straight into your sweet spot and making you dizzy. You tried not to pass out as he manhandled your body, gripping you roughly and marking up your skin everywhere his insatiable lips could reach.
“Gonna knock you up baby- g-gunna give you my babies- get you fucking pregnant, yeah? you want that?” you cut off his filthy mouth by using the grip you had on his head to press his mouth against yours.
“Yesyesyes, give me your babies toru- gonna make you a daddy-“ he groaned into your mouth at your mutual need for him to fill you up.
Gojo felt drunk hearing the nickname bounce around inside his head. Gojo never thought he had a daddy kink, but in this scenario? The nickname had him feeling like he was about to come again already.
By this point, the aphrodisiac was affecting you just as much as it was him, everywhere his body touched yours felt like your skin was on fire. You tried not to lose your sanity as he was pushing your towards your first orgasm without so much as even grazing your clit.
He set you down on the ground and in one swift movement spun you around so you were facing the counter. Satoru used his massive had to grab hold of his cock, slipping it back into your drenched walls.
You both groaned in unison at the sensation. Gojo gave you both a couple seconds to relish in the feeling, pressing his balls hard against your ass before he picked up his same ruthless pace as before.
“Good fucking girl- gonna look so fucking pretty with ur belly all round with my baby shiiit” he groaned when he felt your cunt clench around him at the idea.
He brought his massive palm down feeling your cunt squeeze him, leaving a heavy spank against your ass and gripping the fat between his fingers.
“Pussy tryna fuckin’ milk me down here” he laughed, biting his lip when he watched your hand come down to rub your clit in quick circles, “Yeaahhh fucking touch your pussy for me baby, make urself cum all over my dick while i fill you up.” he instructed, clenching his jaw.
“Shit- g-give it to me daddy- cum inside me-” you mindlessly babbled, there you go again with that fucking nickname that had his balls tightening.
You feet the coil wind itself up quicker than normal at your enhanced sexual arousal from the chocolate and the now added stimulation of touching your neglected clit.
“Come with me baby, gotta feel you cum around me- please” he begged, leaving another loud slap against your ass before pulling you back on his dick roughly by your hips.
“S -shit it’s coming it’s coming i’m- fuckfuck- ngghhh” your warned, voice cutting out as you started to come around his girth while he fucked you through it.
“yeeeeeess baby- fuuuuck- milk my fucking cock fuck-“ he watched intently as your little hole clenched around him, his first load spurting out around his cock with the pressure of your orgasm, making the white ring around the base of his dick get even messier.
“I’m coming again baby- take it for me- need you to take it all, gotta make sure it t-takes” he whined, getting you pregnant still on the forfront of his brain.
Your legs would’ve collapsed on the floor if he wasn’t holding up a majority of your weight by your hips. Your nails slid against the marble as his cock rammed against your cervix, making you dizzy, broken moans getting forced out of your mouth at the feeling of getting repeatedly impaled on his cock.
You tried to gain a little bit of brainpower back to help gojo through his orgasm just like he did for you, “y-e-sss toru’ cum inside me please- i’ll take it all- be a good girl for you-“ your voice squeaked out, words getting louder at the end with how rough his thrusts were,
He leaned over your back, pressing his sweaty chest onto you while he wrapped you in a tight bear hug, not ceasing his ruthless hips, “Need you t-to kiss me baby- go-nna be instense” he whimpered against your shoulder, waiting for you to turn your head twords him to give him access to your mouth.
When you did he wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. The two of you swallowed each others moans as his pitch got higher and higher; his tight grip was sure to leave dark bruises on your body as he held onto you for dear life at his impending orgasm.
When the coil finally snapped, he shook violently against you, hips stilling against your ass, pressing his hips as deep as he could into you while hot ropes of cum filled you up even more than his last load, making more cum spill out around him at how full you already were.
His breath was hitching into your mouth, lips doing their best to kiss you back as his jaw kept falling open as the waves of his high washed over him.
He whined and dropped his head against your shoulder when he started to come down. Gojo panted heavily against your skin, twitching in the aftershocks of his high.
“D-don’t move please” he requested, fucking his softening cock into you a couple more times to make sure his cum was as deep inside you as it could go.
“Fuck toru- feel so full right now..” you wined into the marble, wincing in overstimulation at his final few weak thrusts.
After a couple seconds he finally pulled out his cock, gulping hard as he watched his cum start to dribble out of you; making you whine at the slightly uncomfortable feeling.
He used a couple fingers to spread your pussy lips; admiring his work for a second before he used to fingers to scoop his cum back up, stuffing his thick digits back inside of you, “Gotta get that plug of yours to keep it all in,” he said, biting his lip at how soft you felt around his fingers.
“Or you could let me cockwarm you,” you giggled, turning your head back to look at him while he looked enthralled with your cunt.
“God I love you, smartest fucking girl I know.” he praised.
You fell into a fit of giggles when he scooped you up in his arms, peppering kisses onto your face while he headed twords your shared bedroom.
You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist while he walked, keeping them snug even when he dropped the two of you on the mattress together. Gojo’s large frame laying on top of you as he reached his hand down between you to slide his semi-hard cock back into your oversensitive walls, making you hiss at the feeling, “Sorry baby- almost in,” he promised, kissing your cheeks while he fully bottomed out.
He rolled his eyes at how warm and soft you felt around his dick, sucking soft hickeys into the crook of your neck while you pet his damp hair.
“I’ll clean you up in a second my love, promise, you just feel too good right now.” he let out a short laugh against you.
“‘S okay toru, makes me feel good too.” you tipped your head forward and pressed kisses onto the top of his scalp.
“We gotta be careful with those chocolates,” he laughed, “Might acctually knock you up one day if we keep eatin those,”
“That doesn’t sound half bad,” you confessed, squeezing your legs harder around his hips.
“Dangerous words to say right now pretty girl,” he warned, smirking into your skin,
“Oh right, guess you won the bet,” he remembered, “Whacha want ur big strong boyfriend to do for you?” he asked teasingly,
“Cum inside me again, right now,” you requested after a beat, emphasizing your need by squeezing your pussy walls around him, making him inhale a sharp breath between his teeth.
“Fuck… you serious?” he smirked, lifting his head to look at you.
“Don’t keep me waiting, give me my prize toru,” you pouted your bottom lip at him, making his brain short circuit as he felt his cock twitch back to life.
You ended up taking a plan B the next morning… just in case…
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mypoisonedvine · 9 months
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𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 (part one) | neil lewis x reader
title comes from the song you already know by bombay bicycle club
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you've been best friends with neil basically your entire life, and secretly in love with him almost as long. will you ever find the courage to tell him the truth?
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10k
𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut, angst, pining/unrequited love - 18+ only
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | alcohol consumption, 'kid' as a petname, reader being kind of a femcel, jonathan being kind of mvp??
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Neil had asked you to make sure the Thriller section was alphabetized; sometimes you thought he was just giving you tasks to look busy, but then again, you could probably use it since the employees of Gumshoe Video never looked very busy.  You spent most of the day on the couches, watching whatever old bizarre gem Neil put on— sometimes you thought he only had employees other than himself so that he could pay people to sit here and watch this stuff with him.  
But, the point is, you were sorting tapes.  Because everyone needs their VHS thriller movies to be in perfect alphabetical order.
There actually was a customer in the store, for once, so it was better not to be on the couch anyhow.  You hadn’t really noticed him when he came in, but as he wandered around the shelves, he seemed to drift towards you.  
You tried to ignore him when he stopped right beside you— and kneeling to look at the lowest shelf, he towered over you— but when you stood up he got your attention.  
"Need any help, sweetheart?" he asked, leaning in a little too close.  "I'm kind of a movie buff."
He had a frat guy kind of look about him— polo, boat shoes, quaffed blonde hair.  He could be good-looking, you thought, if he didn’t dress like a discount Abercrombie model… and if he didn’t hit on random women at the video store.  "I actually work here," you corrected, barely looking up from your task.  This is why we need uniforms instead of just dressing up to promote specials…
"Oh, really?" he smirked.  "What made you wanna work in a place like this?"
"My best friend owns the place," you explained, "and I'm, you know… kind of a movie buff."
"Right," he said, not seeming convinced.  "You like Kubrick?"
You rolled your eyes so hard you almost choked: Wow, what a deep cut.  But you kept a straight-ish face when you looked at him.  "Yeah, he's pretty good.  Don't care for how he treats his actors, but he was certainly a visionary."
"What are your top five favorite Kubrick movies?"
You knew this guy was a tool, but you were still a bit shocked that he actually had the gall to quiz you.  "Excuse me?" you scoffed incredulously.
"Can you even name five?" he asked, looking horribly proud of himself, and you straightened up as you glared at him.
"You're heterosexual, right?" you asked him, getting a confused nod.  "Can you name five women you've made come?"
Neil watched the guy storm out, Lucien cringed a bit from behind the register— and Jonathan, not seeming as if he had been paying attention at all, kept laying across the couch and tossing a ball up in the air to catch and throw again.
“Okay, that’s gotta be the third this week,” Lucien groaned.  “What are you saying to these guys?”
“Nothing worse than what they’re saying to me,” you assured with a frustrated, sarcastic smile.
“Listen, don’t get me wrong,” Neil began, “that guy totally deserved it— but maybe, you know… work on your demeanor with customers?”
“Wow,” you scoffed as you crossed your arms, “do you think I should smile more, too?”
“Wha— no!” Neil denied.  
“Yes,” Lucien said at the same time, though he changed his answer with an awkward cough and mumble when you both shot him a look.  “No, no— you’re good— you smile too much, even…”
“I don’t mean it like that,” Neil promised.  “But I think half the guys that come here are just coming here to see you!  Nobody even rents movies anymore.”  He groaned a little, dropping his shoulders defeatedly.  “Can’t you… tell them you’ll go out with them if they rent something?”
“What?!” you squeaked. “No!”
“Sales would double,” Lucien nodded.
“No,” you said again.  “I’m not letting you pimp me out to sell tapes, Neil.”
“I just mean— maybe you don’t really go out with them,” he suggested.  “Just… allude to the fact that you’re only interested in guys who…”
He trailed off as he searched around the shelves for a bit, smiling when he snagged a copy of The Maltese Falcon.
“— in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” he grinned, “you know— for example.  Then they rent it to impress you and we make a few bucks.”
“I am only interested in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” you frowned, snatching the tape away and shoving it back on the shelf.  “But that’s not the point.”
“Maybe you have to be more straightforward, you know,” Jonathan butted in as he sat up, “guys are dumb.”
“Yeah!” Neil agreed a little too easily.
“Just say something about how a massive VHS collection turns you on,” Lucien suggested, and you glared at him.
“Jesus!” you protested, but Neil tried to soothe you a bit.
"C'mon, kid, can't you just… flirt a little?  Get our sales up?"
He'd started calling you kid since you two watched Casablanca together— which was especially stupid as you were both twelve at the time.  At first you complained because he shouldn't be calling you kid with you both being kids; then you complained because neither of you were kids; and then you gave up.  You still punched Lucien for trying to call you that once… you only barely let Neil get away with it anyways.
But you let Neil get away with a lot.  It was a side effect of being secretly, but massively, in love with him.
It had been an issue since middle school— that was when the two of you became such good friends.  Technically, you’d known each other since first grade (where you had shared your crayons, a true test of friendship at the time), and you’d sort of had a crush on him as early as elementary school (mainly because he was the only boy you could stand at the time), but it all kicked into high gear in seventh grade.  That was when you became inseparable, when you got in trouble together, when you stayed up all night watching movies, when you went through all of life’s ups and downs together: you even went to prom together, platonically of course.  
As for your feelings, you’d managed to hide them this long and still be his best friend, even when it sometimes felt like letting him stomp all over your heart without even trying.  Honestly, the only thing harder than being in love with Neil was trying not to be in love with Neil: you adored his sense of humor, his generosity, his sensitivity— and he’d been there for you through the things you couldn’t have imagined surviving alone.  That kinda stuff bonds you to somebody… and when that somebody has the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen, it’s hard not to fall in love.
“Maybe I would flirt if I knew how,” you offered.  “But I’m not exactly, you know, flirty.”
“How hard could it be?” Jonathan interjected.  “Just, you know—”
You stared in quiet disbelief as Jonathan attempted to push his chest together with his arms.  It wasn’t quite working, of course, and the rest of you watched on as he fumbled around trying to force some cleavage.  “You look like an idiot,” you finally informed him after letting him do it for a minute.
“But is he wrong?” Lucien wondered.
“So, what, you guys really think that if I just went up to customers and—” you pushed your breasts together with your arms, accentuating them significantly in your tank top.
“That would work,” all three men asserted in unison before you could even finish.
“I fucking hate you guys,” you grumbled under your breath as you walked to the back, deciding to take your break in Neil’s office until these guys got their act together.
You never stayed gone for long, though— as idiotic as they could be, your friends were certainly charming.  They won you back with a promise to let you pick what tape to put on, and the four of you ended up laying on the couches watching Roman Holiday.  
When the movie was almost over, you rested your head on Neil’s shoulder; you guys did stuff like that, it was normal for you, but it always made your heart skip anyways.
~
This time, you were all hanging out at Jonathan’s primary workplace: the club.  In fact, it was a much larger crowd than just you and the guys— plenty of your local friends and loyal supporters of Gumshoe Video, all sitting around a big table while someone’s mediocre cover band took the stage.
"So, uh, me and Denise broke up," Neil said suddenly, going back in for another swig of beer right after.
The others offered their mild shock and half-hearted condolences, but you knew it was going to happen— he'd told you before he did it.  You tried to tell him that paying off a waiter to spill water on her was a weird way to prove what he already knew, but you couldn't disagree with his conclusion.  She was definitely difficult, and shockingly judgemental for someone who managed to date a video store owner for this long.
“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” he promised, “I don’t think anybody��s too surprised, right?”
There was an awkward hesitation among the group as they wondered if they should lie, or just fess up now that he was obviously accurate.  You broke the silence to suggest someone go get another round of drinks for the table, and even though that was pretty much a one-man job, nearly everyone agreed and quickly shuffled off— leaving just you, Neil, and Lucien.
“I guess tonight’s your chance to meet somebody new, don’t you think?” Lucien suggested.  “Get over Denise, you know.”
“I think I’m already over Denise,” Neil decided.
“And if I told you that girl back there,” Lucien returned, pointing with the hand still holding his drink, “has been looking over here at you for the past ten minutes?”
You glanced where Lucien was pointing as well, seeing a girl in a denim mini skirt and massive hoop earrings settle her eyes on Neil before looking away quickly with a lip-gloss lacquered smile.
“I think I need some help getting over Denise,” Neil agreed suddenly, patting Lucien on the back before he left the table.  
You wanted to pout, but you were used to this— he was good-looking, he got a lot of attention from women in places like this… it usually didn’t work out for him, though.  Certainly not never, probably more often than most guys, but… definitely not every time.
You tried not to look over too much, you didn’t want to get caught spying or, even worse, looking a little jealous— but you noticed that every time you looked over at them, Neil was talking.  That was his problem, see: he never fucking shuts up.  Guys, girls, anybody who will listen— if you admit to not knowing about his favorite fifty-year-old spaghetti western or the most recent pre-Code horror comedy he watched, he’ll gladly blab to you about it for ages.  The first time you glanced at them, you saw her giving him doe eyes, laughing at something he said— and the last time, those eyes had glazed over and her laugh seemed more nervous and confused; you smirked to yourself.  He’s still Neil…
“So, um,” you struck up a conversation with Lucien, “what about you?  Anybody here catching your eye?”
“That’s actually the perfect descriptor of my type,” he replied.  “Anybody.”
You snorted.  “Then you should go, you know, talk to anybody?”
He shrugged and frowned a bit, and it was a simple movement but you understood completely.
The band started to play a new song, something upbeat and energetic, and you smiled.  “Wanna dance with me?”
“Oh, I don’t think I’m drunk enough for that—” Lucien began to protest, but a minute later you were dragging him up by the stage.  Neither of you were actually any good at dancing, mainly you were just kind of jumping and flailing around together, but it was fun and that was the point.
Eventually, more of your friends wandered in to join you; when the song ended, everyone clapped and cheered, the band bowing in gratitude.  You only stole one more look over at Neil and his conversation partner, watching her interrupt his rant with a hand on his shoulder: your throat felt a little dry.  You just hoped what she was saying was more like hey, my friends are leaving, I’ve gotta go and not hey, wanna come over to my place so you can keep explaining German expressionism to me?
Your heart dropped when he reached for her— what if he kissed her now?  What if he wrapped her up under his arm and they walked out together?  What if you had to spend the whole night thinking about him having sex with her?
“Hey, we should ask them if they know any Strokes songs!” Lucien suggested, tugging on your arm to get your attention, but your mind was elsewhere.
“Uh huh, yeah,” you mumbled blankly, and he frowned at you.
“What’s going on?” he asked, trying to look for what you were seeing; but Neil wasn’t reaching for her, he was lifting his hand to wave goodbye as she left.  You beamed, even though you did feel a little bad when you saw Neil’s shoulders sink— it’s not that you wanted him to be alone forever, you were just relieved that you might have a few more moments to breathe before he got with somebody again.
“Nothing, sorry,” you answered Lucien, giving him your attention again.  “What’d you say?”
“We should ask the band if they—”
And immediately, Lucien lost your focus as you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at Neil again— he was already looking at you, seeing you all on the dancefloor.  You waved for him to join you, and he smiled as he made his way towards the stage.  A new song began, even louder than the last, and you could blame that for not hearing Lucien’s question for the second time in a row.
Although he danced with you all for a few moments, Neil draped his arms over your and Lucien’s shoulders, nearly yelling to be heard over the music.
“You guys are coming over tonight for a movie, right?” he presumed.  “Jonathan’s working ‘til late so he’s out, but—”
“Sorry, I’ve gotta be up early,” Lucien explained, “my brother and his wife are visiting, remember?  We’re getting brunch and—”
“Whatever, party pooper,” Neil frowned, before suddenly smiling at you.  “Guess it’s just me and you, huh, kid?”
You tried not to sigh too noticeably through your smile.  “Yeah, me and you…” you agreed.
~
As you groggily blinked your eyes open, you found Neil staring at you, his face uncomfortably close to yours, with a big smile.  “Mornin’, kid,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
You yelped and nearly jumped out of your skin while he laughed.  “Jesus Christ, Neil!” you shouted, kicking off the blanket on you— and then you began to process where you were and why.  “God,” you groaned as you held your head in your hands, while Neil kept laughing at you, “did I fall asleep on the couch again?”
It was sort of a rhetorical question— obviously you had, it would be much stranger if you woke up on the video store couch without having fallen asleep there.  “Yeah,” he said, standing up and sighing a bit, “but you didn’t miss that much of the movie.”
“What happened at the end?” you asked, stretching your legs and snatching the blanket off the floor to fold up; Neil must have put it on you after you dozed off.
“No, we can finish it later,” he decided, walking up to the register, and you groaned.
“Seriously?  Not even falling asleep gets me out of finishing The Man Who Laughs?”
He smiled a little as he started prepping the store for open.  “Nope,” he said proudly, popping his lips on the p sound.
“It’s not that I didn’t like it,” you assured, getting up and trying to ignore the soreness in your back from sleeping on a ratty old sofa all night— you remembered helping Neil carry this thing from where he found it on the side of the road.  Considering you knew where it came from, it was a wonder you ever sat on it, let alone slept on it… but this happened relatively often.  Sometimes it almost felt like you slept easier here or at Neil’s apartment than your own. 
You stood up and stretched your arms, sparing a glance over at him.
“Can I run home and change?” you asked, and he frowned.  
“We open in ten minutes,” he noticed, “you won’t be back in time.”
“Yes, and who will serve the clamoring crowds that await our open outside?” you rolled your eyes, gesturing out the storefront to the abandoned sidewalk.  “You can handle it on your own.”
“Just go to my place,” he shrugged, “it’s closer.  And I think you left some jeans there anyway.”
Right— you’d borrowed a pair of his sweats to get comfy for a movie night, and forgot to take the jeans back when you left.  You yourself had one of Neil’s short-sleeve button-ups at your place, when you’d both changed there for a costume party, but you let him believe it was just lost… it was too late to tell him now that you had it, ‘cause then he might ask why you kept it so long and then he might, somehow, deduce that you had been cuddling it at night from time to time…
“Right, okay,” you nodded, “but I still need a shirt.”
“Just borrow one of mine,” he said, like it was no big deal at all and didn’t make your heart skip.
For a second you wondered if you should protest— if he was still dating Denise, you probably would’ve said something.  But you decided not to say anything, in case he changed his mind; you nearly bolted out of the store and down the two blocks to his apartment.
Your jeans were on the dresser, draped haphazardly in their same just-peeled-off shape you must have left them in last week.  You grumbled to yourself a little about how he could’ve folded them for you so they wouldn’t be wrinkled… but then again, all his jeans were wrinkled, so he clearly didn’t know any better.
And now the fun part: picking a shirt.  You smiled to yourself as you opened the drawer, perusing through t-shirts with old movie posters and semi-witty slogans… cute, sure, but those were pretty similar to what you already wore.  
But the button-downs?  Those were quintessential Neil, and you'd be wasting an opportunity if you didn't put one of those on.
You felt a little giddy as you opened the next drawer down and found them all folded.  The first one you saw had light blue and white stripes, so you snatched it up and slipped it on.
The fit was definitely off, but you let yourself indulge in a fantasy for a moment: waking up here, in Neil's bed… in Neil's arms.  You'd slip on his shirt while you went to find some breakfast, and he'd hum something about how pretty you look in his clothes, and you'd end up tangled in the sheets again not too much later.  
Sighing to yourself, you buttoned the last button, leaving the two at the top undone so you didn't look too formal, and headed back to the store for opening.
Neil stared at you for a second when you walked in— at the shirt, specifically.  You waited for him to say something, but he didn't.  "What, should I not wear this one?" you asked, looking down at it as well, and he shook his head.
"No, no, it's fine— sorry," he mumbled, "just start sorting out last night's returns, please."
You definitely got a much stronger reaction from Jonathan, as soon as he walked in the door.
(Why was he here when he wasn't even working today?  Who knows— he was just always here somehow.)
“Hey!  You look even more like a lesbian than usual,” Jonathan greeted with a peppy fake-smile as he approached you, and you smirked a bit.
“Don’t blame me, it’s his shirt,” you nodded towards Neil.
“See, I told you you dress like a— wait,” Jonathan stopped mid-insult, looking back at you, then at Neil again, then at you; he pointed his fingers at each of you, crossing them back and forth.  “Did… you two…?”
You narrowed your eyes, waiting for him to explain what he meant.
“Did you guys hook up?!” Jonathan accused, wide-eyed.
You felt your face getting warm, and you stammered out your denial; Neil started waving his hands in disagreement as well, but Jonathan was already on a roll.
“Oh my god!” he yelped.  “The one time I miss movie night here and it gets freaky!  Should’ve known better than to leave you two lovebirds alone—”
“Jonathan, we didn’t—” you choked.
“It’s not— it wasn’t—” Neil butted in.  “She just borrowed my shirt!  ‘Cause she— because—”
“I mean, we’ve kinda all been waiting for this to happen— but I never really thought it would,” Jonathan steamrolled along.  “Well, yeah, I guess I thought it would, I just—”
“Wait wait wait, what?” Neil shook his head, stepping up closer to the two of you.  “What does that mean?”
Finally, he seemed to get Jonathan’s attention, who began to nervously backtrack as both of you stared at him.  “W-well, I just mean—” he started.
“And who’s ‘we all’?” Neil noticed.  “This isn’t just you, thinking this?”
“I… I mean,” Jonathan scoffed, “you know— just, just some people… we thought that maybe… that since you two are so close, that you might—”
“Wow,” Neil chuckled, crossing his arms in disappointment.  “You know, that’s so reductive.  For a bunch of progressive, free-thinking hipsters—” he waved his hands as he said it in a mocking way— “you’re really just, like… like… you know, not!  ‘Cause apparently men and women can’t really be friends?”
“No, come on, not like that,” Jonathan denied, “of course we can—”
“I mean, you’re her friend, you’re both single,” Neil noticed, gesturing between the two of you, “why don’t you two, just, you know… hook up!”
You cringed a little as Jonathan tugged at his collar nervously.  “Well, I—”
“Come on, why not?” Neil went on, smiling at the suggestion even though he was clearly unamused.  “I mean, she’s nice, she’s pretty, she’s got a vagina— why don’t you hit on her?”
“Hey, come on, Neil,” Jonathan sighed, “I’m well aware she’s got a vagina—”
“So what’s the problem?” Neil insisted.  “Clearly you can’t just be friends with someone with a vagina—”
“I would really prefer if we didn’t talk about my vagina anymore,” you mumbled nervously.
“— how come you never hit on her, Jonny?” Neil pressed, backing him into a corner metaphorically— but also somewhat literally, he was leaning in and Jonathan was pressing his back more and more against the shelves.
“You really want me to answer that?” Jonathan replied, almost threatening.  That made you furrow your brow a bit.  It seemed like a rhetorical question, Neil trying to prove a point, but you didn’t expect Jonathan to have a literal answer.
“Yeah, sure,” Neil decided, “enlighten us.”
Neil glanced at you, like you were just as gung-ho about this interrogation, but you were feeling a little sick.  You understood the spirit of Neil’s argument— and technically, you agreed with him— but it still stung to see him so incensed at the suggestion of you two together.  You were trying not to take it personally, it wasn’t like he was disgusted by you or anything… he even said just now that you were pretty, and he’d told you that before, but… it still bothered you a little, for reasons you couldn’t quite describe and that you were sure were illogical.
“I never hit on her,” Jonathan answered, lowering his voice, “because I… I figured it would piss you off.”
That seemed to surprise you both, maybe for different reasons; you bit your lip to suppress a smile.  Did Jonathan really think Neil was that protective over you?  “Why would it piss me off?” Neil wondered, but he sounded a little defensive— defensive in a caught-red-handed sort of way.
“I… I don’t know,” Jonathan shrugged.  “That’s just the vibe I got, okay?  That she’s sorta… off-limits.”
Neil hesitated.  “Well… she’s not,” he decided.  “You’re grown-ups.  Whatever you wanna do is none of my business— as long as you’re not being, you know, creepy or an asshole.”
“Of course,” Jonathan agreed, most of the tension settling as Neil backed up a step.
“Okay, well, ask her out then,” Neil instructed firmly.
“I didn’t say I wanted to!” Jonathan sputtered.
“Neil, Jesus!” you complained simultaneously, and he seemed to relent, shrugging as he walked back to the register.
“Sorry, sorry,” he dismissed, “just letting you know it’s… fine with me!”
You rolled your eyes a bit and looked back at Jonathan.  “Sorry,” you offered him quietly, “he’s… I don’t know.  He gets weird about that.”
“Oh really?” Jonathan scoffed sarcastically.  “Didn’t notice.”
“The real reason you shouldn’t be hitting on me is because we’re coworkers, by the way,” you reminded him.
“Hey, I only work here part-time,” Jonathan noticed, “so I think that means it’s cool as long as we only go out part-time.”
You snorted, but he seemed to get nervous.
“You know I’m kidding, right?” he added quickly, and you nodded with a laugh.
~
"You know, I was thinking— we don't have many events at the store these days,” Neil mumbled around a bite of pretzel, watching you play your turn at Skee Ball.  Normally he would put coins in the machine beside yours and try to beat your score, but the other machine was out of order and you decided to take a relay race approach.  “What if we did, like, I don’t know… maybe a double feature for a couple bucks?”
“Neil, we show movies every night,” you sighed, “and we invite everybody, and ninety-nine percent of the time it’s just some combination of me, you, Jonathan, and Lucien.”
“Yeah, but this time we could do movies that more people like— a little easier to watch,” he suggested, “something that would get new people in the store.”
“New people don’t wanna sit on a musty old couch with strangers,” you reminded him, and he nodded as he chewed and swallowed his next bite.
“You’re right,” he agreed, holding the pretzel out towards you.  “Wanna bite?”
You were trying to get through your skee balls pretty quick, so you just leaned your head over and chomped down on the end of one of the twists while he held it for you.  You hummed in appreciation— it was pretty good, fresher than the last one you guys got here.
Visits to the arcade used to be your thing, back in high school (aside from watching movies, but that was a given).  Then you slowed down with the trips, feeling a little old and out of place surrounded by kids— but the problem was, this place wasn’t filled with kids anymore.  It hadn’t changed much at all since you were both in high school, and that was exactly the issue: it was old, run-down, a bit grimey… kids weren’t coming to arcades anymore anyways, they were all on the Internet apparently.  So, while you and Neil sort of appreciated having the place to yourself, it also broke your heart knowing your old haunt couldn’t hold itself together forever… you two visited not just to recapture some old childhood joys, but to try to do your part to keep the business afloat.  
You pretended to like being here— because you really did want to support the place, and Neil wanted to keep coming back— but it actually made you pretty fucking sad.  Surrounded by all the neon, the noisy pinball machines, the Dig Dug machine that had a fifty-fifty chance of stealing your quarters, the photobooth (you still had some strips from that thing pinned to your wall, some so old that they’d faded from the sunlight that came in your window each day); it all felt sort of eerie now.  You would’ve never known all those years ago how little this place would change, even though you never expected it to— you would’ve never known how little anything would change.  Neil was still by your side, but still so far away… if you could talk to that fourteen-year-old girl now, you would warn her that no amount of time spent running around this place and playing Street Fighter was going to make Neil love her, or you.
But here you were anyways.  “Woo!” you cheered when your final score came through: 50,765.  “Beat that!”
Neil set the pretzel down on the bar-height table (on a pile of napkins, don’t worry, neither of you trusted those tables that much) and brushed the salt off his hands with a scoff.  “Oh please, I can beat that with my eyes closed,” he assured as you crossed your arms.
As he put his quarters in and stepped up to the game, you smiled wide.  “Alright, if you say so.”
You came up behind him and covered his eyes with your hands, making him jump and then laugh.  “What are you doing?”
“Just keeping you honest,” you giggled, holding on tight even when he tried to move his head around so that he could see.  
He did his best, usually struggling to even find where the balls were coming down more than rolling them decently— but after the first three went in the gutter without even scoring, you knew he didn’t stand a chance.  He did score a few times, but when the buzzer went off and he lifted your hands from his eyes, he laughed at the pitiful 1,150 on the board.
“Ohh, that’s too bad,” you winced, “guess you’re just full of it.”
Still holding your hands away from his face, he spun around and twirled under your arms like you were dancing for a moment; it ended with him face-to-face with you, swinging your hands back and forth a bit to force you to twist with him slightly.  “Wanna play Street Fighter next?” he suggested quickly.  “I know I can beat you at that.”
The giddy joy of the moment dropped and shattered; if you thought about it too much, you probably could’ve cried right then.  As pathetic, yet oddly aesthetically pleasing, as it would be to cry in an arcade, you swallowed down the emotion and smiled back at him.  “Yeah, okay,” you agreed.
~
You’d been a little antsy all day— Neil seemed to notice, asking a couple times if you were okay, but you just nodded and shrugged it off.  He had a sense for when you were lying; but that’s the thing, you weren’t lying, really.  You just weren’t sure what to say.  You weren’t sure if you should say anything.  And yet, you felt a little guilty not telling him everything that was going on with you— not just guilty, but plain weird.  Because you usually did tell him everything— except, you know, the thing— but you didn’t know if you should talk about this.  Not that you couldn’t— but should you?
So you were sort of gnawing on your lip most of the day, keeping yourself busy with tallying late fees behind the desk, trying to keep conversation light and meaningless: thankfully, in that regard, Jonathan and Lucien made it pretty easy.
“Okay: fuck, marry, kill,” Jonathan began, “Dracula, the Mummy, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon.”
“Dude, I can’t answer that,” Lucien refused.
“Okay, then Neil, what would you do?” Jonathan changed his target.
“Um, well,” Neil pondered, “I think I’d have to kill Dracula— spare the world from that evil, you know— and I guess I’d marry the Mummy—”
“Freud would like to have a word,” Lucien butted in.
“And I’d fuck the Creature from the Black Lagoon,” he concluded, “out of morbid curiosity.”
You snorted, but didn’t look up from your clipboard.  “You come up with one that Lucien will do,” Jonathan challenged Neil.
“Alright, uhh, let’s see…” Neil stalled as he thought, looking up at the ceiling and stroking his chin dramatically.  “Fuck, marry, kill: Sarah Carter, Ripley, and Trinity from Matrix.”
“Okay, see, that’s a real challenge,” Lucien affirmed.  “If I marry Trinity, do I have to live in the post-apocalyptic wasteland or can she live here?”
“You’d have to live in the Matrix,” Jonathan announced, like it was obvious.
“Hm,” Lucien pondered, “do I know it’s a false reality?  Does she know?”
“She knows, you don’t,” Neil decided.
“Is she gonna tell me?  What if she has another guy on the side in the real world?”
“Okay, you’re overthinking this,” Jonathan groaned.
“And is this the Sarah Carter that’s already had John?  ‘Cause if not, I can’t kill her, or the human revolution stands no chance— but if she has him, I can’t marry her, ‘cause I’m not ready to be a stepfather—”
“You’re useless,” Jonathan informed him flatly.
“Well, it’s easy then,” you offered, still tallying fees on the printed table.  “You fuck Carter, marry Ripley and kill Trinity.”
“Yeah, I guess that works,” Lucien shrugged.
“If you’re so good at this game, you should play,” Jonathan decided.  You looked up from your work for once, finding Lucien looking excited at the idea and Neil looking a little nervous but intrigued.
“I’ve got one for you,” Lucien decided, looking concerningly smug.  “Fuck, marry, kill: the three of us.”
Jonathan let out a giddy ‘ooh’ and Neil raised his eyebrows.  “Oh— I don’t know— that’s too weird,” you shook your head, “it’s different, you’re real—”
“Wait, wait,” Neil interrupted, “now I wanna know.”
You froze for a second, wondering if you should double down on not participating, or if you should tell him the first thing that popped in your head: am I allowed to do all three to you?
Instead, you set the clipboard down and crossed your legs, and the men seemed to straighten up as they prepared for your answer.  “Alright,” you said, looking at them for a lingering moment before sighing.  “I think I’d fuck Jonathan, and then kill myself.”
“Yes,” Jonathan hissed, shaking his fist triumphantly.
“Dude, really?” Lucien snapped at him.  “That didn’t sound like a compliment to me.”
“Don’t care, I stopped listening after ‘fuck Jonathan’,” he replied.  “Alright, Neil, you’re gonna have to make good on that ‘she’s not off-limits’ promise you made to me—”
But Neil wasn’t listening to Jonathan, he was still looking at you.  “Wait— you wouldn’t marry me?” Neil interrupted, putting a hand on the desk and leaning in a bit closer— he looked half-amused and half-offended, and your heart skipped a beat.
“Um…” you started to wonder how to defend yourself from that.  What did he expect you to say?  Yes, I’d marry you, I’ve actually been planning our wedding since junior year.
“Hold on,” Lucien stopped you, “if she fucks you and marries you, that means I’m getting killed!”
“Yeah, so?” Jonathan smirked.
“What, you don’t think I’m marriage material?” Neil laughed… but he didn’t seem like he was really joking, per se.  He didn’t seem serious either, of course, but you decided to take his question seriously since he’d dared to ask it twice.
“Well,” you mumbled, “no.  I don’t.”
Then he seemed a bit more serious, adjusting his posture a bit.  “Why not?”
“I mean… you’re my best friend,” you reminded him, “but… you’re not reliable.”
He nodded, pursing his lips together.
“You’re not ready for marriage,” you continued.  “I mean, I think you’re just as sure of that as I am.”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“And honestly?  You’re a great friend and all, but… if you were my husband, I don’t think I could really… you know, trust you…”
The silence seemed a little heavy— all the men were sort of frozen for a second, you wondered if you should wave your arm around to make sure time hadn’t stopped.  But they did move, Neil first in fact, as he stopped leaning on the counter and nodded a little.
“I’m just surprised that you didn’t fuck Dracula,” Jonathan said to Neil in an attempt to cut the tension, “considering your massive man-crush on Bela Lugosi.”
“Hey, that reminds me, tonight’s movie is Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla,” Neil announced, apparently shaking off whatever odd energy he’d picked up just before, “you in?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jonathan nodded, “should I bring drinks?”
“Uhh, yeah, why not?” Neil agreed. 
“Is a six-pack enough?”
"Uh, maybe…” Neil considered, turning over his shoulder to look at you.  “Kid, how many beers are you gonna want?”
You swallowed nervously.  “Um, I… well, I’m not coming.  I’ve got a date, actually.”
Of course it was just assumed that you would be there; you felt a little guilty admitting you wouldn’t, to the point that you almost considered just skipping said date and staying to avoid the awkwardness.
“Hey, great!” Jonathan said proudly, throwing his arms out wide.
“A date, huh?” Neil noticed, looking happily surprised.  “Sorry, I— I didn’t know— you didn’t say anything—”
“No, it’s cool,” you shook your head, “it’s kind of a last minute thing… you know how they’re showing Rope at the Palace tonight?  I met this, um, this guy the other day and we got to talking, and I asked him if he’d wanna come with me.”
“Rope, wow, that’s a great first date movie,” Neil nodded approvingly, “that sounds perfect.”
“Yeah— he hasn’t seen it, actually,” you admitted, smiling nervously, “so I guess how much he likes it will kinda be a good judge of if he’s worth going out again, right?”
Jonathan nodded approvingly, but Neil seemed skeptical.  "Well, the showing isn't until nine— you can at least hang out until the movie starts, right?"
"I've gotta get home and get changed!" you explained 
"You can't wear that to a date?" Julien wondered.
"No!" you scoffed, looking down at your ripped jeans and Dracula t-shirt.  "Besides, I have this whole plan of what I'm gonna wear— remember when we did Bonnie and Clyde for Halloween?"
Neil was Bonnie and you were Clyde, in fact; he looked shockingly good in that blood-red lipstick, you tried to convince him to wear it again but he insisted it was a one-night-only situation.  
"I figure if I wear my Clyde suit, I'll look kinda like James Stewart!"
"You're doing drag on a first date?" Lucien pressed, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, lighten up, I'm just dressing up for the movie— I'll still, you know, try to look pretty," you assured.  "What, I don't look good in a suit?  'Cause I got a lot of compliments on Halloween—"
"No, hey, go for it," Jonathan decided, "it's festive!"
"I think it's cool," Neil agreed.  "Have fun, alright?  And if he creeps you out or something, call the store number and I'll come get you."
"I'm not really worried about—"
"You know? Just call the store when you get home," Neil decided, "so I'll know you didn't get murdered."
"Dude, chill," you groaned.  "We're going to the movies, not, I don't know… hiking off-trail in the middle of the night."
You never agreed to call, but you did him one better: you ended up coming back to the video store afterwards, a bit over two hours later.  Of course, the guys were still on the couch— apparently the movie was over but they were watching anime (undoubtedly something Jonathan had brought as a palate cleanser after the movie).
They all looked over at you when you came in the front door and the little bell rang; they seemed excited to see you, and presumably to interrogate you about the date.  You sighed, knowing you couldn't have expected anything else, but you'd come here hoping they'd let you watch something with them so you could stop thinking about the date.
“How’d it go, hot stuff?” Jonathan purred, and you rolled your eyes as Lucien wolf-whistled.
“Oh yeah, it was awesome, best first date ever— I’m at his place having sex with him right now,” you frowned as you tossed your purse down onto the couch, and Lucien chuckled while Neil looked a little defeated.  
“Not that great, huh?” Neil noticed.
“Was he a creep?” Jonathan assumed.
“Did he think the movie was bad?” Lucien pressed.
“No, no, he was great,” you sighed, “he loved the movie.  We talked about it for a bit afterwards and he seemed to really understand it.”
“Okay!  That’s good, right?” Jonathan said optimistically.
“Yeah— so good that I asked him when we could do this again,” you recalled, “and he said that he didn’t wanna lead me on and he wasn’t interested in seeing me.”
“What?!” Jonathan yelped, while Neil winced a little.
“He said I was really cool and funny and easy to talk to,” you explained, “but that he didn’t feel any chemistry.”
“Chemistry?” Lucien repeated, confused.
“He means he’s not attracted to me,” you clarified.
“What?” Jonathan scoffed again.  “Why not?”
“I don’t know!” you whined, but you did know.  “I think I’m just, like, friend material.  I’m just ‘one of the guys’, you know?  Not somebody you actually wanna be with.”
“But isn’t that what every guy wants?  To date somebody who’s just ‘one of the guys’?” Lucien noticed, and then paused when everyone gave him an inquisitive look. “That sounded way less gay in my head.  You get what I mean, right?”
“As much as I would love to never let you live that down,” Jonathan smirked, “you’re not wrong— like, a chick who can hang.  That’s the best.”
“Well, here I am!  Hanging!” you snapped.  “Where’s my harem of suitors just desperate to date one of the guys?!”
“I mean, you are wearing a suit…” Neil noticed, getting a little defensive when you groaned and dropped your head back.  “No, no, you look cool!  I mean, you look really great.  I’m not sure what he wasn’t seeing.”
"Maybe he's got a girlfriend!" Jonathan suggested.  "And he was gonna cheat but he chickened out."
"Maybe he's intimidated by strong women," Lucien added, sounding more like he was quoting a Cosmo than actually thinking that.
"Respectfully, guys aren't that complicated," you assured.  "If he wanted me, he would.  He doesn't.  It's not that deep."
Neil looked away when you said that.
"Well, come take a seat on the losers couch," Jonathan offered, but Neil sitting next to him frowned.
"You think I'm a loser?" Neil protested.
"No, I was talking about that couch," Jonathan said as he pointed to the other one which Lucien was on.
"I'm not even offended," Lucien decided, patting the spot next to him.  "I'd rather be a loser with you than a winner with anybody else."
You smiled and plopped down next to him, pulling your legs up on the old sofa and finding the best angle to see the TV from.  "Okay, catch me up," you requested, bracing for the barrage of borderline nonsensical exposition about whatever obscure anime Jonathan was forcing on the group this time.
~
Since the store closed at eight on Tuesdays, you and Neil decided to go out for a late dinner after locking up— the nearest place you usually walked to was a little hole-in-the-wall dishing out Thai fusion, and even though there were open tables inside, you took your paper boxes outside to eat together on a bench.
You each sat up on it with your legs crossed, facing each other, while he poked at his fried rice with his fork and you stirred your noodles with the chopsticks.
“The Palace is still doing their Hitchcock screenings on Sundays,” you recalled, “I think the next one is Rear Window.  We could make Lucien man the store and go see it together?”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” he smiled.  “But we gotta sneak in the candy, that place is getting so overpriced…”
“Well, that’s a given,” you laughed.  “When I went on my date there I had Sour Patch Kids in my bag, but I was kinda craving Reese’s by the time the movie started.
"That guy sounded like an ass, by the way," Neil announced with a frown.
"Oh, no, it's fine," you dismissed.  "He was really nice, even when he blew me off, and I… I guess I wasn’t really expecting it to go anywhere, anyways.”
“Really?” Neil scoffed.  “Then why’d you ask him out?”
Just in case.  “I… I guess I’m trying to put myself out there more?”
“Huh?  You’re trying to put out more?” Neil joked.
You rolled your eyes and unfolded your legs to kick him playfully.  “You know what I mean,” you groaned.
“Yeah, yeah,” he admitted, “and I support it.  It’s sort of insane that you’re still single.”
“Wow, thanks for the pep talk,” you rolled your eyes before shoving a thick swirl of spicy-sweet noodles in your mouth.
“No!  I mean, like, I can’t believe you’re single,” he clarified, and you smiled somewhat awkwardly while chewing your mouthful.  “You’re smart and fun and cool and pretty—”
Thanks to the food in your mouth, you didn’t have to worry about coming up with a way to respond to that, so you just shrugged.
“Seriously!” he insisted.  “I mean, guys hit on you at the store— I wish somebody who actually deserved your attention would walk in that place.”
The guy I want is already there every day.  Swallowing, you finally got a chance to talk to him again.  “Thanks,” you sighed, “it’s fine, though.  I mean, I’ve been single this long— I think I’ll survive.”
“Keep waiting for the right one, okay?” he encouraged, and your heart swelled.
“I will,” you promised, sounding more wistful than you meant to.
After a brief lull in the conversation, he cleared his throat and continued.  “Hey, um, while we’re on the topic of Sunday, about the whole fuck-marry-kill thing—”
“I’m sorry,” you offered right away, “I shouldn’t have answered that.  I wasn’t being serious, obviously.”
“No, I wanted to apologize,” he returned, “I shouldn’t have pressed you on your answer.  It was funny.  And it wasn’t like you could say you were gonna kill one of us.”
You snorted.  “Yeah, that one was probably the worst of the three.”
“But I shouldn’t have asked you about what you would’ve done to me,” he shook his head, “I was making it weird.  So, sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you assured.  “Did you really expect me to say I would marry you?”
“No,” he admitted, “I thought you’d say you’d fuck me, marry Lucien and kill Jonathan.”
“What?” you scoffed, though you were still smiling.  “Why?”
“Well, Lucien would definitely make the best husband of the three of us,” he explained, “and Jonathan was the only one who wouldn’t have gotten butthurt about you saying you’d kill him.  He probably would’ve just asked you to give him a nice send-off, y’know…”
You nodded in agreement, wondering if he was going to address the obviously missing third piece of all this… he sure was staring down into his empty fried rice container with intense focus…
“And, you know, as for me,” he began sort of thinly, “I, um… I guess I just figured, you know, you’re the most comfortable with me.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, “obviously, but maybe that would make it worse?  Like, at least with Jonathan, I know that if we ever did hook up or something, it probably wouldn’t mess up our friendship.  ‘Cause we’re friendly and all, but it’s not so serious.  But with you…”
“Uh huh, well, that’s why it’s good it’s just a game,” Neil finished for you, chucking his trash in the nearest can.  “Don’t have to worry about any of that stuff.  Least of all you and I being married.  Talk about a disaster.”
You choked on your throat.  “Yeah.  No kidding…”
“Well, anyways,” he sighed, standing up from the bench and stretching for a moment, “wanna come over and see if the game’s still on?”
“Oh, um, I’m just gonna go back to my place,” you decided, throwing away the last couple bites of your food on account of your suddenly-lost appetite.  “Kinda thinking I should get my sleep schedule in order.”
“That’s good,” he nodded, “I respect that.  Have a good night, then, kid.”
“Yeah, you too,” you breathed, waving as he turned and walked off into the night, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.  
You looked down at your lap, taking a deep breath and shutting your eyes for a second.  Did he have to be so sweet just to cut you down like that?  Could he have even known how it would hurt you to say that?
It’s not even like he was wrong, but you were dying to ask him why he was so sure that you and him together would be so bad.  What was wrong with you that he still couldn’t see you that way?
Not interested in this repetitive thought cycle anymore, and being very familiar with where it leads, you got up and started to walk down the street.  You didn’t turn to go to your apartment, though; you kept going until you heard live music— scratchy, whiny guitars and throbbing bass drums— seeping out of the club.  You just needed to be somewhere familiar that wasn’t the video store or home; and, this place conveniently also had liquor.
You slipped inside— hit by a wave of sound as you entered— and took a seat at the bar, half-listening to the band that was playing, pretending to be focused at all on what was going on in the outside world rather than just spiraling into your own thoughts inside your head.
“Hey,” Jonathan nodded at you from the other side of the bar, and you nodded back.  He instantly started looking for Neil— of course he would— and you deflated a bit.  “You here alone?” he noticed.
“Yeah,” you shrugged.
“Wow,” he smirked, “it’s like when Peter Pan’s shadow escaped.”
You should’ve probably been offended by that, but it wasn’t worth denying— and you were more interested in getting liquored up than justifying that you did, in fact, have a life outside of Neil.
And, actually, Peter Pan was a pretty good way to describe Neil, too.  Fear of commitment, leader of freaks and outcasts, daydreamer… all he needed was some green tights.  “What are you drinking tonight?” Jonathan finally asked.
“What pairs well with feeling completely unattractive and unlovable?” you sighed.
“Well, that would be my drink of choice: whiskey,” he smiled, setting a bottle down in front of you.  “I’ll do a shot with you.”
He poured you both a shot, and you timed it to shoot it back together; he, obviously, took it better with you, and you cringed from the acidic flavor.  "Jesus, people really drink this on purpose?" you grumbled.
"Yeah, give it a few minutes," he assured, "it's gonna numb all those stupid emotions."
"I don't have a few minutes," you sighed, "do you have anything more fast-acting?"
"Yeah— a second shot," he joked, but you nodded in agreement.  "Okay, shit, you're not messing around tonight."
"Nope," you agreed, watching him pour just one shot this time.  "You're not doing it with me?"
"I need to pace myself, I'm here 'til two," he explained.
He slid it to you and you contemplated it for a moment, before forcing yourself to get it down as quickly as possible to avoid the burn.  You still grimaced, but recovered quickly.
"Is it working yet?" he wondered.
"I guess," you answered half-heartedly.
“Well, you could always gush to the bartender about all your problems?” he offered, but you just shrugged it off.  “Come on, you wouldn’t be the first tonight.  And since I know you, I might actually be able to help.”
“I don’t think you can help with this one,” you assured.  “This problem has been going on longer than you’ve ever been around.”
“Oh?” he pressed.  “Let me guess… boy troubles?”
“Isn’t it always?” you scoffed, irritated that he saw through you that quickly— apparently your reputation of being horrible with men preceded you.
“But this is just one boy,” he presumed.  “One boy who… conspicuously isn’t here tonight…”
“Is it that obvious?” you wondered with a whine, dropping your head in your hand.
“Well, if you weren’t having any issues with him, you’d be with him,” Jonathan guessed— and it wasn’t bad logic.
“But, like, does everyone know?” you wondered.  “Does everyone but him know that I’m in love with him?  Oh god, Jonathan, you don’t think he knows, do you?”
“Wait— love?” he repeated, and you swallowed thickly as you realized the whiskey had already gotten you to say too much.  “You… you’re…”
“Okay, so I guess not everyone knows,” you mumbled.
“No, yeah, I think you managed to keep that under wraps,” he assured with a nod, eyes getting wider.  “Sheesh.  No, I had no clue.  Now it’s even weirder that you guys aren’t together.”
“Well, he doesn’t love me,” you explained flatly.
“Did he tell you that?”
“No, god no— I mean, he tells me he loves me,” you corrected, “but he doesn’t mean— we just say that, you know, like at the end of phone calls or when one of us is sad.  It’s not, like… we never meant it that way.”
“Right, okay,” Jonathan nodded as he wiped a glass— the way bartenders do when they’re listening to people— but he didn’t seem to understand entirely.  “So, you’re not his type?”
“I don’t think I know what his type is,” you scoffed.  “I haven’t really noticed a pattern, have you?”
“You’d have to have a few more data points to really draw any connection between them,” Jonathan laughed.
“Yeah, fair,” you smiled, “he’s only had… I don’t know, maybe four girlfriends since I’ve known him?  One in high school, for a month— then Eva, they weren’t even really serious, just dating for a while.  And then, uh—”
“Tanisha,” he remembered.
“Right!  I liked her,” you hummed.
“What happened to her again?” he wondered.
“Got back with her ex,” you recalled.
“Wow, that blows,” Jonathan sighed.  
“She told me before she told him,” you admitted.  “She wanted me to tell him for her, actually, but I… I couldn’t do that to him.  But I came over right after, you know, and we ate ice cream from the tub and watched movies ‘til we fell asleep.”
Jonathan made a sort of face, one you couldn’t quite interpret, and you tilted your head as he seemed to mumble to himself.  
“What?” you wondered.
“Nothing, it’s just… he’s kind of an idiot,” Jonathan decided.  “I don’t think he gets how lucky he is.”
You wrinkled your brows together, laughing a bit.  “What do you mean?”
“Look, I’m not saying he’s, like, legally obligated to fall in love with you just because you guys get along so well,” he clarified, “even if that’s what Neil accused me of thinking— I really do think it’s fine for men and women to just be friends.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m just saying… like, how do you have someone who cares about you that much, and you end up dating fucking Denise for almost a year?!”
“Well, nobody knows how he ended up with Denise,” you coughed.  “That was a fucking disaster.”
“I mean, not to be crass, but, uh,” he stumbled a little over his words, “I’m surprised that you coming over after that breakup didn’t turn into a rebound, at least.”
“After eating that much ice cream?” you laughed.  “That would’ve been awful.”
“But really, though,” he insisted.  “I have a hard time believing the thought didn’t even cross his mind…”
“I can’t really be sure that it didn’t,” you admitted, “I’m just saying, nothing happened.”
“I guess he’s just known you too long to go for it with you,” Jonathan shrugged.
“It’s not just that— you know Neil, he’s kind of an adrenaline junkie,” you rolled your eyes, “or at least he thinks he is.  He wants adventure, I guess— and he always talks about us doing spontaneous stuff but it never happens— and I’m just too familiar.  Too comfortable.”
“Yeah, he does kinda have something against stability,” Jonathan agreed, “do you think it’s a divorced parents thing?”
“I don’t know, I stopped analyzing that a long time ago,” you groaned, “and I told myself I would stop trying to be what I thought he wanted, but I think I keep doing it.”
“Well, I know you know him better than anybody,” Jonathan countered, “but I know guys, and that guy… there’s no way he thinks of you as just a friend.”
“Why do you think that?” 
“Because he was fucking lying when he said it wouldn’t piss him off if we hooked up,” he insisted.
“You really won’t let that go, will you?” you grinned.
“Did you see his face?  He couldn’t get the image out of his head!” Jonathan assured confidently.  “And then that whole ‘fuck marry kill’ thing— he started getting nervous, I think.”
“Nervous about what?”
“That something could really happen with us!”
“You really think he would care?” you frowned.
“I swear to— to Ash Williams,” he decided, “that if I walked into that fucking video store, and told him that you and I did whiskey shots and you came back to my place and we did the horizontal tango, he would beat me to death with the register.”
“You swear on Ash Williams?” you repeated with a smirk, knowing that meant more than swearing on any deity would mean.
“Him and his chainsaw hand,” Jonathan assured, putting a hand over his heart to add to the bit, and you giggled.
“Well, I don’t think Neil can pick up the register,” you decided.
“In that case, you let me know the next time you wanna get back at him for something,” he offered with a wink, and you smiled at him sympathetically.
“I know you’re trying to be nice,” you sighed, “but you don’t have to do that.”
“Hey, come on,” he frowned, “I know you’ve got this I’m insecure I’m a weirdo nobody notices me thing, but you can’t actually think it would be some kind of charity work for me to sleep with you—”
“No, I don’t mean that,” you sighed, “I know I could get laid if I wanted to—”
“But you don’t wanna get laid,” he finished for you, “you wanna be loved.”
You sighed again, even harder.  “Yeah,” you nodded.
“I know,” he agreed.  “And you know I love you, but—”
“But not like that,” you took your turn finishing his sentence.
His only reply was raising the bottle of whiskey with a sideways smile, a silent offer to pour another shot— for both of you this time.
“Yes, please,” you hummed, watching him fill the miniature glasses with a sigh.
part 2
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exhaslo · 4 months
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Hii exh!! I was wondering if u can do a request I have in mind, it’s basically CEO!Cold!Miguel x shy!Sweet!reader and Miguel literally needs stress relief but only reader can help him but as he fucks her in his office, he starts saying the most non sense shit about how he always stalks & admires her every time he sees her at work or home which has reader hella shocked and he also has a big breeding kink def :3 (this is my first time writing a request and I’m sorry if I didn’t explain right idk how to explain stuff😭)
I love me some cold!Miguel x shy!Reader shit. I'll write the hell out of this one, haha. Also, you are totally fine, thank you for allowing me to be the first one to receive your first request!!
So sorry that I'm writing this hella late tho. I had so many requests in December that it wasn't even funny. *cries*
Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, overstimulation, rough sex
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There were a lot of things Miguel hated about himself. Most, if not all of them, involved his thoughts about you. Every time you entered his mind, Miguel had the dirtiest thoughts. The worst intensions and the most horrible habits.
It all started when you got hired in his company. Lyla was looking for some new accountants to ease with the heavy workload. You were nearly hiding amongst the new hires. It was cute to think how you tried to hide yourself behind the other women.
Miguel took notice of you since you had such a low and soft voice. You quietly handed in your work to Lyla and always quickly fled. Miguel's gaze was always on you. How someone so shy and sweet ended up in the palm of his devilish hands.
Miguel's thoughts of you grew more obsessive. He needed you. He wanted you. Thoughts of you sitting on his cock started to flood his mind at one point when you cried over a mistake in paperwork. Miguel could give you a reason to cry. He could easily fill you up, having you sob in pleasure.
Miguel nearly lost his common sense when you came in on Valentine's day with cookies for everyone in your department. It felt horrible and disgusting, but Miguel approached you with sexual thoughts.
"Ah, h-hello, sir," You said with a soft stutter, surprised to see the CEO in front of you. Miguel just smiled casually,
"(Y/N), how are you?" He asked, walking with you to the elevator.
You felt your cheeks fluster as you walked beside Miguel. Gripping against your skirt, you replied to him quietly. You could barely pay attention to anything aside from your racing heart. You gasped as Miguel chuckled towards you, allowing you inside the elevator first.
"How kind of you to bring treats for everyone," Miguel said, his tone a little harsh. You froze,
"I-I'm s-sorry, sir. I-I can um, bring you some!" You panicked. Miguel's gaze was heavy on you as he pressed the emergency stop button, "S-Sir-"
"What if I want something else?" He asked, his voice heavy against your ear. You felt your body tremble,
"L-Like?"
The next moment, you were against the elevator wall, moaning loudly as Miguel's cock bullied your pussy. Your skirt riled up as your breasts bounced out of your bra. Drool rolling down your lips as you moaned and whimpered Miguel's name.
Miguel's thick, meaty cock, making a home inside your tight velvet walls as he pounded you. Shaking as you felt yourself about to cum again, you cried out his name. Miguel held your hips closer to his as he slapped himself inside your pussy deeper, giving you a heavy load of his cum.
"Good girl," He whispered in your ear before fixing your panties and skirt. You bit your lower lip and trembled at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you,
"Y-Yes, sir," You panted softly. Miguel lifted you up, kissing you before having the elevator move again.
"When I call, come to my office, okay?"
"Y-Yes, s-sir."
---------
Miguel's obsession with you only grew once he finally had a taste. Miguel made you that you were single and stayed that way. Only he could have you for himself. Miguel wanted you to be his. The only way he saw that was to fuck a baby into you.
You were such the perfect woman for him. You came when called and showered Miguel with attention. Even when he wasn't drilling his dick into your needy pussy, you were there for him. Miguel loved how you were already mother material.
"Um, sir?" You whispered, entering his office. Miguel glanced up at you, smiling devilishly,
"(Y/N), you know what to call me when we're alone."
"S-Sorry, Miguel. T-There were um...p-people at your door." You hurried over to his desk, placing a small box down, "Um...I...I hope you don't mind, but I-I heard it was the anniversary of the company. S-So, congrats!" You chirped.
Miguel glanced at the box, then towards you. He patted his desk, watching you obey and sit on it. With a lick of his lips, Miguel reached for the box as you slowly undid your shirt. His eyes were always on you. You were still so shy despite taking his dick many times.
"How thoughtful," Miguel hummed, glancing at the small present you got him.
You smiled brightly as Miguel admired the gift. It wasn't long before he returned his attention to you. His body already pressing yours against his desk as he lifted your skirt up once more. His fingers stroking your panties, watching you shake under his touch.
"You also wore the new lingerie set I got you, such a good girl."
"Mhpm~"
You tried to hide your smile as you melted under Miguel's touch. It was embarrassing the first few times you let him fuck you, but you loved every second of it. It was like a dream come true. You cared about Miguel and despite his cold attitude, you wanted to believe that he cared about you too.
"Spread your legs for me,"
Doing as he said, you bit your lower lip from anticipation. Miguel liked to fuck you rough and deep. You always stumbled and struggled to walk after your quick sessions. You felt embarrassed if you were to admit that you wanted him to keep fucking you.
"So wet for me already, what a naughty girl," Miguel hummed as he held his cock, pressing it against your hole, "But you did give me a gift, so I should reward you, right?"
"R-Reward...or..p-punishment...I'll take both," You whispered. Miguel smirked as he pushed his cock into your wet pussy,
"That's riiiiiight. You're such a good girl that you'll take both," Miguel hummed as he slapped his dick into you, "My slutty good girl likes my dick no matter how I give it, right?"
"T-That's r-right!" You moaned out, gripping onto Miguel's jacket as he pounded you.
"Such a slutty pussy. Listen to how loud it's sucking me in. Do you want everyone to hear you take my dick so loud?"
"N-No~" You cried out, covering your face. Miguel chuckled as he spread your legs wider, watching a white ring form against his dick,
"Did you cum already? So soon, now, now, I didn't give you permission."
"M-Miggy~ Mig~" You moaned, flinging your head back as he rubbed against your sweet spot.
"Making it easier for me to fuck a baby into you, right? That's what you want, huh?" Miguel chuckled as he fasten his pace, ready to give you his first load, "You always hurry home, making sure you have plenty of time to fuck yourself to me ravishing you."
"Mhm~!" You shivered as Miguel poured his cum into your womb.
"Always preparing yourself for my dick. Such a good girl, getting yourself ready whenever I call for you," Miguel grunted in your ear as he continued his rough thrusts.
"Ah~ M-Mig~ T-Too much!" You begged. Miguel raised a brow as he started to slow down his thrusts, rubbing your clit in resposne,
"Too much? But don't you love screaming my name at night when you're home and lonely?" Miguel said harshly. You were shaking, whining as Miguel went slower,
"I-I do!"
"Then what should you be saying?" Miguel asked. You arched your back, whining as you tried to suck Miguel back in,
"D-Don't stop! P-Please fill m-my pussy, Miggy!"
"And?"
"Ah~ d-destroy me~ M-Make me yours~ P-Please! Please!" You begged.
Miguel complied as he returned to his rough thrusts. You cried and moaned louder as you cam against his dick once more. Miguel watched in amusement as your juices covered his cock. Your sweet, fucked out expression just begging for more.
Your body was shaking from overstimulation as Miguel kept toying with your clit and breasts. You were a babbling mess as Miguel pressed you into mating position. His cum filling your womb once more before he kept going.
"Let me make you a mother, (Y/N). Don't you want my child?"
"Yesh~" You whimpered.
"Say it," Miguel demanded. You rolled your eyes back, nearly gasping at the feeling of Miguel feeling you up even more,
"G-Gimme...yer baby, Migs." You begged.
Like music to his ears, Miguel kept his word. He made sure to keep giving you his load of cum until his next meeting that is. By the time he had to leave, Miguel fixed you up and placed your on his couch he had in his office. You slept soundly until he returned.
"(Y/N), let's go." Miguel whispered, waking you from your slumber. You whimpered in response, shaking as he helped you up,
"Sir..."
"Now, now. You know what to call me," Miguel chuckled darkly as you stumbled behind him.
"Migueeeel," You whispered, reaching out for him.
Miguel held your waist, leading you to his limo. A smirk clearly on his face as he led you inside. Once the car started to move, Miguel placed you on his lap, having you sit on his cock while he took you to his place.
"We're not going to stop until I give you my child, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered in your ear. You held onto Miguel, trembling against his cock as you felt him push back the cum that was already inside you,
"Y-Yes, Miguel,"
Miguel chuckled lowly as he held you in place. His sweet little worker was doing such a good job. Miguel hated how much he loved the thought of tainting your precious body. Miguel hated how much he loved filling you with his cock.
"Oh, (Y/N), my pretty little dick accessory. Tell me, what are you?" Miguel asked with a cruel tone.
"Y-Your good girl," You moaned in response.
Miguel just smirked as he had you bounce on him. Your face growing more flustered as you came against his dick. Miguel just held your hips, leaning back and watching you be his good girl. His sweet girl who would do anything for him.
"I'm going to make you my wife, (Y/N). You're going to have my baby and be mine. Doesn't that sound nice?"
"Mhm~ Yes, Miggy!"
"That's my good girl."
Miguel's smirk never faded as he continued to ravish your body until you finally pregnant with his child. Miguel made you his personal assistant, allowing you to assist him with his every need. You were his sweet, precious good girl.
And he wasn't letting you go.
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Hope you enjoyed!!!
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zeldasnotes · 1 year
Text
COMMON 8TH HOUSE STRUGGLES
For anyone who got natal Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus or Mars in the 8th house.
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•Disliking that person that everyone else likes bc you see them for who they really are.
•Feeling like you have lived 10 different lives.
•People not recognizing you after not seeing you for a year because your appearance, demeanor, body language and even energy changes.
•Having that specific year that you barely remember bc you dissasociated from reality.
•Having songs you have to avoid because they were popular during one of your ”ego death” periods.
•Not seeing the fun in certain activities because you overthink everything and dont see the fun in it because you are constantly aware of every second.
•People seeing you as more sexual than you actually are.
•People sharing disturbing stuff with you because you look like you can take anything.
•People trying to put you down bc they think you look down on them or bc your powerful aura make them feel uncomfortable.
•Thinking to yourself “omg I would die if that happened to me” and then it happens to you because life is constantly testing you.
•People wanting beef w you bc of your bitchy stare but thats just the way you look.
•Having that one person whos been obsessed with you for over 10 years.
•Seeing other people do stuff and its forgotten but when you do something nobody forgets it because everything you do is felt 100 times stronger because of how sensitive people are when it comes to you.
•People wondering why you disappeared from the party for an hour and now you have to explain you had to recharge after all that small talk.
•Trying to explain to people why you love going to the bathroom.
•That one person everywhere you go who are convinced that you are evil for no reason.
•Going through a ”they will think im bad anyways so why not be bad?” phase.
•People reminding you of something you did/said 2 years ago and you are shocked bc the latest version of you would never say/do something like that.
•Getting a weird feeling out of nowhere and later learning that something horrible happened that exact time.
•Trying to downplay your sex appeal for a job interview or a serious event but still having people get “that” vibe from you.
•People oversharing with you because they can sense that you will understand.
•Adults hating on you when you were just a kid.
•Feeling like there is this wall between you and others because most people are not as deep as you.
•Having the weirdest things happen to you but you cant tell anyone because they will think you are lying.
•People coming forward telling you they had a crush on you 10 years ago but were afraid to approach you(especially with venus 8th house)
•People who dont even like you want to be close to you because of your addictive energy
•Constantly having someone standing in a corner 10 meters away staring at you everywhere you go.
•Being accused of stuff you didn’t do bc of your dark energy and people projecting onto you.
•People coming into your life when they are going through something and later leaving you when they don’t need you anymore.
•People thinking you are weird for enjoying rainy days and dark nights instead of sunny days.
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