#I apologize for any typos I wrote this on a phone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dakotalun · 2 years ago

Text

"Oops" | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: Part 1--Eddie "accidentally" sends a tasteful pic to his best friend.

warnings: mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), strong language, description of naked Eddie

word count: 3.4k

Part 2

a/n: went a little crazy at 3am the other night and wrote this. Part two will be up later this week!! Luv y'all <3

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie is your best friend of many years, the two of you being inseparable from the moment you met. So when you got a text from him tonight you don’t think much of it, figuring it was just a dumb meme he saw or a random thing from today.

What you didn’t expect to see was a picture of Eddie standing in his bathroom, towel slung over his shoulders with a prominent boner happening.

His hair is wet as if he just got out of the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry it yet. The long dark brown locks stick to his neck and chest in a way that can only be described as godly. The tattoos on his skin are glistening but covered by the towel around his neck and as you move your eyes downward the path of hair that leads to his dick is delicious.

And talking about his dick it is, mag-fucking-nificent! The way that it hangs there, the tip swollen and red, leaking the smallest bit of precum. It has your mouth watering.

You nearly choked on your own spit when you saw it. Never in a million years did you think that Eddie would be sending you of all people nudes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wonder what he was packing but you never really indulged in those thoughts, until now. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen, memorizing every little detail in the photo.

Eddie sends another text but you’re too distracted to see what it is. Then a stream of texts start flooding in from him.

‘SHIT!’

‘I DID NOT NMEAN TO SNED YIU THAT!’

‘IGNORE THE PICTUREA’

‘HOW THE HELL DO I DELETE THE PIC?!?!?!’

‘GOD I AM SOSOSOSOSOSOSSOO SOORRY!!’

You giggle at his frantic typing, noting all the typos. Curiosity gets the better of you and you scroll up a little to see what he had said after he sent the picture. You’re eyes go wide at the words displayed on your screen.

‘Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Jerked off twice while in the shower and I’m still hard. Wish you were here with me right now ;)’

You had no clue who this was really meant for but if it was meant for you you would 100 percent be on your way to him right now. The bottom half of the picture stares back at you as your eyes acan over the text again and again. You can’t deny the small hint of wetness that you feel on your underwear while looking at the two.

Twice? He came twice and is still hard. Whoever he thought about must be really hot if he can go 3 rounds without breaking a sweat. Could he go more?

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone receiving a call, from none other than Eddie himself. You sit up in bed and pull your knees towards you as you answer his call.

“Sweetheart I am so so so sorry I sent you that. It was clearly meant for someone else. If I had known it was your contact that I was on I would have never sent that at all. I want you to know that I don’t go around sending nudes to everyone or anything, I’m not a slut I was just-”

“Eddie it’s fine. No need to apologize. I figured it wasn’t meant for me anyways.” It pains you a little at the thought that someone else was supposed to receive that message from your best friend.

“I’m still sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” His voice sounds smooth like spreading butter onto fresh pancakes.

“Hmm,” You fake thinking about what you want even though you know exactly what it is you want, “You’ve gotta tell me who that text was really meant for.” Silence. For a whole minute there is just silence on Eddie’s end, you’d think he was dead if it weren’t for the fast pace of his breathing.

“Sweetheart,” The nickname is not helping the situation you have going on right now, “You don’t mean that. Can’t I just take you to breakfast or buy you a new outfit?”

“Nope.” You respond popping the ‘p’ as you say it. “Either tell me who it was meant for or I send it to the groupchat.” You were bluffing. You couldn’t let the others see him like that, that was for your eyes only. Not that anyone needed to know that.

“You wouldn’t dare,” His voice turned deep and threatening.

“Try. Me.” You challenge back.

Eddie groans, “Fine. You win,” A smile spreads across your face, “It was meant for Callie. This girl in my chem class, we’ve been talking for a little bit.”

You’re a mix of emotions right now; happy that Eddie found someone he’s interested in and took his shot, confused because he never told you about it, sad because you thought he trusted you with things like that, and slightly jealous because you want to be the one Eddie sent nudes to, purposefully.

“Sweetheart? You still there?” You completely forget that you’re still on the phone with Eddie until he says something.

“Uh yeah yeah I’m here. I’m um happy for you Ed. Glad you found someone. Look I gotta go to sleep, big test tomorrow, talk later. Bye.” You hang up before he can say anything else.

Why did you feel this way about all this? You shouldn’t be thinking of Eddie in this way, he was your best friend. Best friends don’t think about going down on each other, or the way it would feel to have his cock inside you, or the moans he would release when he finally cums in you.

You shake it off and lay back down, setting your phone on your nightstand to charge. You try for half an hour to fall asleep but your mind can’t stop thinking about that damn picture. So you unlock your phone and go back to your messages with Eddie, looking to see if he deleted the picture or not. And to your luck it was the latter, the picture and text below still there for your viewing pleasure.

You’re still horny from the initial thought of him so it doesn’t take long for your hand to wander under your shorts and underwear to your clit. The thought that your fingers were his and the way he would whisper in your ear egging you on to finish.

The images of him jerking himself off in the shower flood you, his hand on the cold tiles, water hitting his back as he fists his cock, rubbing it slowly at first but becoming impatient and going faster until he cums all over the wall and his hand.

The image of his face when he does and the moans that would leave his mouth is what throws you over the edge yourself. Wishing it were him between your legs pulling it from you not your own fingers. Finally your body is tired enough to let you go to sleep, dreaming of Eddie once more.

---

You’re sitting with Eddie and the rest of Hellfire at lunch a week later. Neither of you have talked about what happened that night, both too embarrassed to say anything.

Things were normal though, Eddie would pick you up and drop you off to and from school. You’d talk on the phone every night about whatever happened that day that the other wasn’t there for. You liked the thought that the text didn’t hinder your friendship but you can’t help but be a little jealous about Eddie fucking someone else. It’s not like you were expecting him to confess his hidden undying love for you the next day but the realization that Eddie really did send you that accidentally; hurt.

The freshman are talking about some video game coming out when Eddie lean over to you.

“Whatcha’ thinking about?” There’s a smile on his face, one that you always loved seeing.

“Nothing,” You go back to eating your fruit.

“Alrighty then. Hey I was wondering what time you wanted to come over tonight?”

Your eyes grow wide, mind going back to the text, “Why?”

“Um it’s Wednesday. Horror movie marathon night, remember?” His head cocks to the side a little, his hair falling into his face. It reminds you of a dog questioning what it’s owner has in their hand.

“Oh right yeah. Um I don’t know if I can make it tonight.” That was a lie, you had nothing going on. But being in the trailer alone with Eddie after knowing what he looks like naked is not what you need right now.

“Awe come on! I rented Scream, Saw, and Halloween for tonight. You can’t make me watch them all alone,” He lowers his voice and leans closer, “What if I need protection from the bad guys?” His big doe eyes large and pleading with you.

You roll your eyes and push his face away from you, “Ugh fine. I’ll be there, how’s 8?”

“Perfect! I’ll order the pizzas, do you think you could make those amazing cookies for us?”

“You mean for you?”

“No. I mean for us, I would never eat all the cookies myself.”

“You did like 3 weeks ago! There were 30 cookies there and I had none of them.” You stare at him as he thinks back to then.

“Nope don’t remember which means it didn’t happen. So will you?” There are those puppy dog eyes again.

“Whatever but I swear if you eat all of them again I’ll castrate you.”

Eddie’s hands fly to his groin, protecting it from your threat. “Ouch, sweetheart. Didn’t know you hated my dick that much.”

I don’t. Just hate that it’s not mine. You thought, but you just rolled your eyes and continued on eating lunch until the bell rang.

---

Eddie rushed around his room looking for his favorite shirt when you showed up for movie night. You let yourself in, per usual and set the cookies down on the coffee table before heading to Eddie’s room. He was squating in front of his closet when you come in, you don’t announce yourself just stand there staring at his back.

He got a few new tattoos since last summer, two of which on his back. A skull and crossbones along with a knife wrapped in barbed wire. You haven’t seen them in person yet, it still being too cold to sit out in the sun. But looking at them now was a pleasure, the detail popping out as his muscles flex.

Eddie huffs and stands, defeated about not finding the shirt he wanted. He turns around and finds you standing in his doorway.

“Jesus! Why didn’t you say you were here?” His hand is over his heart as he catches his breath from the unintentional jump scare.

“I texted you like 20 minutes ago that I was on my way. Figured you knew I’d be here soon,” You say as you enter his room fully to sit on his bed.

“I did not see the text, I was in the shower,” The mention of this brought back memories of the photo, and what you did whilst looking at it, “Anyways pizza should be here soon and I’ve got beers and soda in the fridge.”

Eddie walks around you to his dresser, grabbing a random shirt and throwing it on. You’re sad at the loss of his bare skin but quickly shake the thought away. You get up from his bed and head to his living room, Eddie following in toe.

“So what are we watching first? I’ve seen Scream a few times but the other two I haven’t seen,” Eddie remarks as he grabs two beers from the fridge, opening them before handing you one.

You mumble a thanks before taking a sip, the bitter liquid coating your tastebuds. “I’ve seen Scream and Saw but not Halloween. Heard good things about it though, at least that’s what Robin said, Steve had other opinions.”

“Lemme guess pretty boy hated it and wished he never saw it?” Eddie laughs as he sets up Halloween on the tv.

“Yeah pretty much,” You laugh along. The thought of your friend sitting there watching the movie curled up in a blanket next to Robin bringing a smile to your face.

Eddie finishes setting up the movie and walks back the kitchen. He grabs a bag of chips and some dip before returning to your side on the couch. He opens the chips and pops one in his mouth, crunching it loudly.

You smile at the normalcy of everything right now, it’s as if nothing ever happened between the two of you. Which if we’re being honest nothing really did happen, Eddie just sent you a nude on accident. It’s not like you kissed or anything. Not that you’d hate it if you did.

You snack on the chips and dip with him while waiting for the pizza to show up, never starting the movie without it. The two of you talk about nothing in particular while you sit there. Eddie tells you about the upcoming DnD campaign he’s been working on.

His eyes lighting up and hands flying around erratically as he explains what he planned, the animation in his character brings an even bigger smile to your face.

Just as Eddie concludes his explanation, inviting you to come sit in and watch it at the end, the doorbell rings notifying the both of you that the pizza was here and it was now time for movie night to begin.

Eddie pays the guy and happily walks over to the couch and sets the food on the table in front of the two of you, he can’t even wait til the movie starts playing to begin eating. You laugh at him as he opens and closes his mouth quickly trying to cool the hot pizza in his mouth, you just hit play and start watching the movie.

The pizza is gone, same with half the bag of chips and the cookies. Eddie actually let you eat a few of them before he scarfed down the others. You’re nearing the end of Scream, the third and final movie of the night when you look at your phone for the time. 12:25 stares back at you, you groan knowing that your parents are going to kill you for coming home so late on a school night.

Eddie hears you and turns to see why you made that noise. You just wave him off and go back to watching the movie, watching as Skeet Ulrich gets shot for the final time in the head. A few minutes later the credits roll and Eddie turns off the tv, letting the trailer fade into silence.

“Wanna tell me what that groaning was about?” Eddie asks turning to face you completely.

“Nothing, just didn’t realize that it had gotten so late. Parents are gonna kill me if I go home at this hour.”

“So just stay here,” He says with no hesitation, “You still have a few clothes here after last movie night. They’re just siting in my drawer.”

You think about it for a minute. You and Eddie have had sleepovers in the past, nothing special about them, just two people sharing a bed, occasionally cuddling because of the small size of it. But now the thought of it made you nervous, having him so close to you, so near yet not being able to touch him. It killed you, but it’s better than going back home right now and having your mom and dad rip you a new one.

“Alright, I’m gonna need to shower though. Coach had us run the mile today at practice and I still feel disgusting.”

“Yeah no problem, you go ahead and shower, I’ll clean up here.” He stands and starts clearing the trash from the table. You get up too and head into his bathroom, but no matter how hot the water is or how long you stand under it you can't get the thought of the picture and the words under it out of your mind.

He was right here, jerking off to the thought of someone. You scold yourself for thinking about him like that, again. But you couldn’t help it.

Recently you’ve thought about him more and more; his smile, the dimples that show when he’s really happy, how animatedly he talks, the way his hair is always unkempt but still looks so damn soft. You thought about him in ways you never did before seeing that picture; his arms, his muscles, his hands, his rings. Everything about him turned you on and you needed it to go away.

Eddie finished up cleaning and sat down on his bed, beer in hand while he took out his metal lunchbox for a joint. You walk into his room, towel wrapped around yourself, hair dripping wet from the shower. He stops his actions to just stare at you, the same way you did earlier that night.

“Uh could I borrow some clothes? I don’t have anything to sleep in,” You say wrapping your arms under your boobs, pushing them up ever so slightly.

Eddie clears his throat, “Yeah, sure.” He gets up and walks over to his dresser, rummaging through it to look for something you can wear tonight. He pulls out a pair on your underwear that you “left” there a while back and one of his Hellfire shirts. You denied his offer of some pants, saying they would be way to big on you and you’d rather just sleep in the shirt.

Eddie’s mind went straight to the gutter at that thought, you sleeping next to him, in just his Hellfire shirt and a pair of underwear he stole from you. His dick was growing hard just thinking about it. He quickly got back to looking for his joint and lighting it upon it’s appearance. He took a few hits while you changed in the bathroom, his mind slowly fogging over.

You return, hair still slightly wet with the towel in your hand. You toss it into his hamper before laying on his bed, grabbing his beer and taking a sip. You lay back and close your eyes, letting the serenity of this moment wash over you. Eddie offers you a hit but you decline, being that you don’t ever mix weed and booze together.

He finishes the joint while you finish his beer. The two of you just sitting there with the light sound of whatever record Eddie has playing. Your thoughts are quiet for the most part, just soaking in the time with your best friend, until you think of something. A question you’ve been meaning to ask for a little bit.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He responds head leaning back onto the wall where a headboard should be.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, hit me.” You reach your hand out and hit him in the thigh.

“Ouch! Not literally, I meant with the question, sweetheart.”

“I know,” You giggle.

“Brat,” He mumbles back.

“Anyways, I was gonna ask -and you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to it’s just something I’ve been thinking about- but did you really not know it was me you were sending that picture to?” The words lay heavy on your tongue as you say them aloud. You’ve been thinking about this for a while, it’s hard not to.

How did he not know it was you he was texting, your name was right there at the top of the screen. And if he was sending it to someone else how could he not double-check to make sure he wasn’t sending it to someone like Wayne or Robin.

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about the best way to tell you that, yes he did know it was you he was sending it to. And yes he knew it was stupid but he wanted to try something to see if you felt the same way about him that he does you. Eddie’s loved you for about a year and a half now, never saying anything to anyone in fear of running your friendship.

But that night he was watching a show and one of the characters did this thing where they pretended to send a text to someone “they didn’t mean to”, to see how they’d respond. He thought that maybe this was an easy way of figuring out how you felt about him. But when you didn’t respond to his photo or texts he got scared and called you. Needing to clarify what he sent, and why.

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis

#eddie stranger things #munson #eddie munson #eddie my love #eddie my beloved #female reader #oneshot #smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie x reader

7K notes · View notes

requiemforthepoets · 4 months ago

Text

this is me trying 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: growing up, the only thing you know is that you need to be strong, provide, and take care of your sister. but being with oscar, it was different, he made you feel things—that it’s okay to not be fine, vulnerable, and to be taken care of.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have this fic finished the other day but i was debating on whether to post it or not, but here we are. it’s been a while too since i last wrote for oscar, and this is like a comfort (?) fic idk lol. also, can i just say that LANDO ON POLE FOR THE SG GP!!! 😭🧡 ok, i hope you guys will have fun reading this one. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, eldest daughter syndrome, no use of y/n, cursing, unnamed sister, named friend, and parents death

You were sitting in the living room, surrounded by case files and legal books, trying your best to prepare for the court trial that you’ll be doing soon, but your mind was elsewhere. You can't focus on the work that you’re working on in front of you, no matter how hard you try. Your phone buzzed, and you almost didn’t answer, thinking it’s just another work call, but when you saw Blaire, your friend’s name, flash on the screen you quickly picked up, expecting a casual chat.

“Hey, Blaire, how are you?” You greeted her, trying to mask your exhaustion.

Her voice on the other end was hesitant, not the usual warm tone that you’re used to. “Hey…I really hate to bring this up, but I was wondering when you would be able to repay the five thousand dollars?”

Your stomach dropped. “Repay?” You repeated, utterly confused. “What do you mean five thousand dollars?”

The conversation between you and Blaire unraveled quickly. She explained how she had lent the money to your sister out of need, thinking it was for you or with your approval. Rage bubbled in your chest, your pulse quickened, at this point all you can see is red. You thanked her hastily, barely able to end the call before fury overtook you. Without thinking, you dialed your sister’s number, the beeps echoing in your ear like a countdown to an explosion.

“Hello?” Her voice was casual, completely unaware of the storm coming her way.

“What the actual fuck did you do?!” You yelled, not caring if it was late at night. “You borrowed five fucking thousand dollars from Blaire without asking me!? How could you?!”

There was a pause, a brief moment where you could almost feel her shrug through the phone. “Oh my god, can you relax? It’s not like you can't afford it. It’s not that big of a deal, you can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making, it’s barely a scratch on your bank account!” You couldn’t believe what you were actually hearing.

“Not a big deal? Did you spend the money already? Do you have any fucking idea how humiliating it is for me that you did this without even consulting me? You think just because I make good money, I’ll fix every mess you create?” You were seething.

“Well, yeah,” she responded with a laugh, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation. “You’re my older sister. Isn’t it your job to take care of me, right?”

Your grip on your phone tightened. “I’ve been taking care of you your whole life! I’m working myself to the bone just to make sure you have everything you need, sending you to that fancy school that you’ve always wanted so you can have a better future, and this is how you repay me? By lying and stealing?”

The silence on the other end of the line felt heavy, but your anger has not subsided. She mumbled something that sounded like a half assed apology, but it was already too late for that. You immediately hung up and slammed the phone down on the table, heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. Anger still swirling inside you like a storm, the words of your sister still echoing in your mind. You can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making. Her carelessness, lack of respect—it hit harder than anything you had experienced before. It wasn’t about the money, you could handle the five thousand dollars easily, but the way she completely dismissed your hard work, as if it was nothing, as if your sacrifice and years of struggle meant nothing—that was what burned deep. It hurts like fucking hell.

You sat down there on the couch, trying to calm yourself down, tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. You didn’t cry. You cannot cry. You have always been strong your whole life—the provider, carer, and protector. That’s who you were. No one had ever taken care of you, not since your parents passed away when you were fifteen and your sister is only ten. It has always been you, alone, against the world, and now, it felt like even your sister was against you.

You didn’t hear Oscar enter the living room until his voice, soft but firm, broke through the silence. “Hey, I heard you from our room. Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, your body automatically stiffening instinctively and continued browsing through your documents like nothing happened.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” you lied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

Oscar walked over and sat down beside you on the couch, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “You don’t always have to be fine,” he said quietly. “Tell me, what happened?”

You exhaled sharply, your hands trembling as you ran them through your hair. “It’s my sister,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “She borrowed money from Blaire. Five thousand dollars. Without even telling me. Now, she’s acting like it’s my job to fix it.”

“Five thousand? That’s a lot.” Oscar frowned, his brows knitting in concern.

“I know,” you said, “she doesn’t even care. She just assumes I’ll take care of it, like I always do every time she gets into stupid situations. She thinks just because I earn good money, I’m supposed to fix everything.” Your voice cracked, and before you could stop it, the tears you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Oscar. I’m always the one fixing things, I’m always the one who has to be strong.”

Oscar didn’t say anything for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes filled with understanding. Then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. You tensed at first, still not used to being vulnerable, but Oscar’s embrace was warm, grounding. Slowly, your body relaxed into his, and the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little as you rested your head against his chest.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered to him. “I’ve always had to be the strong one. I’m tired, Oscar. I’m so fucking tired. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

His hand gently stroked your back, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know. It’s okay to be tired. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his face, “I just don’t know how to let anyone help me,” you admitted, voice barely audible. “I’ve been doing this for so long, I don’t know how to not be the one in control.”

“I get that. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore. I’m here. Let me be strong for you, too.” Oscar smiled gently, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The idea of letting someone else carry even a fraction of the weight feels completely foreign to you. But as you looked at Oscar, his eyes full of sincerity, something inside you shifted. Maybe, it’s time you let it all fall down, you didn’t have to carry everything on your shoulders all the time.

“What am I supposed to do about her?” You asked, your voice small but steady now.

Oscar sighed softly, thinking for a moment. “You have all the right to be angry and upset. Your feelings are valid,” he said. “She needs to learn that actions have consequences. But at the same time, she’s your sister. She’s young, and sometimes young people tend to make mistakes. You’ve been doing everything for so long that she probably hasn’t learned how to take responsibility for herself yet.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Yeah, maybe. But I can’t just let her think she can keep doing this.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you also don’t have to do this alone. We can figure it out together.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. Maybe you didn’t always have to be the strong one, the provider, the protector. With Oscar by your side, you could learn how to let someone else carry the weight with you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into him once more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oscar smiled, pressing a soft tender kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to find out, I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

The next morning, you stared at the screen of your laptop, fingers moving quickly over the keys as you finished drafting the contract. The legal jargon was familiar, comforting even, but the fact that you had to use it against your own sister left a bitter taste in your mouth. The contract was firm, direct, and laid out the consequences clearly: five thousand dollars, to be repaid in installments, with interest and penalties if the deadline is missed. You hated doing it—your heart never felt so heavy—but you knew it was necessary. You had been too lenient for far too long, if she didn’t learn this now, she might never understand the true value of money and the responsibility that came with it. It was time for her to learn the hard truths you had known your entire life.

Oscar was sitting across the table, sipping his coffee, watching you in silence. “You’ve finished it?” He asked gently. You had told him last night that you need to straighten everything out, and told him your plan, in which he quickly supported you.

You nodded, eyes scanning the contract one last time before saving it. “Yeah. She’s not going to like it, but this has to be done.” You sighed, “I’ve been too lenient, too forgiving. I can’t keep cleaning up after her messes.”

“You’re doing the right thing.” He said as he reached over, placing his hand over yours. “It’s tough, but you’re teaching her a lesson she won’t forget.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, glancing out the window, the weight of responsibility pressing down on you once more. “I’ve never been one to ask for anything back, but she needs to learn that she can’t just treat me like this. I want her to be successful, but she can’t rely on me forever.”

Later that day, you booked a flight for her to Monaco, and notified her about the flight schedule. She was studying in Switzerland, and it would be a four hour flight from Switzerland to Monaco. It was time to have this conversation face-to-face. You couldn’t keep allowing her to avoid responsibility just because you were miles apart. This is a conversation that is long overdue.

A couple of days later, she arrived at your and Oscar’s shared apartment. She seemed different—more subdued, perhaps. You could tell the weight of your anger still lingered in her mind. She greeted you cautiously, her eyes flickering to Oscar, who stood nearby, his presence calm but protective.

“Sit down,” you said, pointing to the couch.

She looked at you, clearly trying to gauge your mood, but she did as she was told. You sat across from her, with Oscar by your side, and the freshly printed contract lying on the table between you. The tension in the living room was thick.

“I had already settled your debt with Blaire,” you began, your voice calm but firm. “But this conversation is not just about the money. It’s about respect, about responsibility.”

“I said I was sorry.” She crossed her arms, trying to play it cool.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” you snapped, your patience was already running thin, barely hanging on by a thread. “I have been providing for you because I want nothing but the best for you. But what you did was careless, and you disrespected everything I’ve done for you. You didn’t even ask me before borrowing that money, and then you just blatantly assumed I would handle it. You do this every time to me, you always get me into awkward and humiliating situations.”

She bit her lip, her attitude wavering. “I know, but you make so much—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut her off, about to lose your cool but Oscar had managed to calm you down by softly caressing your back. “Yes, I make good amount of money, but that money just doesn’t magically appear. I have worked hard, harder than you can imagine, to get to where I am. Do you want to know what’s worse? What’s worse is that you’re not even thinking about how hard it is to earn that money, how I burn myself off everyday. So I’m making you earn it back.” You slid the contract towards her.

“What’s this?” She looked down at it, then back at you, looking all confused.

“It’s an agreement,” you said. “I’ve decided to give you the five thousand dollars. Consider what you bought from that money as a gift, because I know you’ve been doing well in school, and it’s been a while since I’ve given you anything. But this will never happen again. You owe me that money, and you're going to pay it back. Every cent of it, with interest.” Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off before she could even speak.

“This is not negotiable. I’m still going to support you, I’m still going to pay for your tuition, but you need to learn how hard it is to earn this kind of money. You’re going to work for it, and I'll expect proof—payslips, records—everything. If you miss a payment, there will be penalties added, and if you refuse or try to make a fool out of me, I’m not afraid to take legal action.”

“You’d sue me? Your own sister?” She stared at you in disbelief.

“Yes, I would,” you said coldly. “I don’t want to, but you’ve left me with no choice. You are already eighteen and will turn nineteen in two months, you are already capable of knowing what’s right and wrong. You need to understand that I’m not going to bail you out every time you mess up, this is your responsibility now.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Her face was a mix of shock and anger, but you could tell the gravity of the situation was already starting to sink in.

“I’m not trying to be harsh,” you said softly, leaning forward. “But I’ve been in your shoes, and I know firsthand how hard life can be. I have shielded you from that, and maybe that was my mistake. But if you’re going to succeed in this world, you need to understand that nothing is free, nothing in life is free. Everything comes with a cost.”

Oscar then leaned forward, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’re not doing this to hurt you,” he added, tone gentle but firm. “But this is a wake-up call. You need to understand how your sister has worked so hard, and how important it is that you start contributing. No one’s saying you have to do it alone, but you have to start doing something.”

Your sister’s eyes shifted between the two of you, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of guilt in her expression. She glanced back down at the contract, and you handed her a pen.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it. I’ll pay you back.” Her attitude and defiance slowly faded from her face.

“Good.” You nodded, “then sign it.”

She hesitated for only a moment before scribbling her signature across the bottom of the contract. You felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness, knowing you had to be this tough, but also hoping it would be the turning point she needed.

“You can stay with us while you’re in Monaco,” you told her, “but I expect you to find a job as soon as possible. If you fail to keep up with your end of the deal, there will be consequences. Understood?”

“Understood.” She nodded, though her expression was still a mix of resentment and defeat.

You exhaled, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you. This wasn’t easy, and you hated having to be this strict with her, but it had to be done. Oscar wrapped his arm around you, his touch grounding as soon as you watched your sister head towards the guest room.

“You did the right thing,” he said quietly.

“I hope so,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I just want her to grow up.”

“Don’t worry, she will.” Oscar assured you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “With you as her sister, she doesn’t have much of a choice,”

Later that evening, the apartment finally fell quiet, dinner was definitely awkward and quiet, but with your sister already tucked away in the guest room, the weight of everything you had said and done began to settle in. You were sitting at the edge of the bed, heart heavy and mind replaying what had happened earlier over and over. The way your sister had looked at you—hurt and angry—it cut deeper that you were willing to admit.

You had always been strong, but this strength had come with a cost. Now, sitting in the stillness of the night, the reality of your actions hit you like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just the contract or the money, it was the fear—the fear that in trying to teach her a lesson, you might have pushed her too far. That in being the disciplinarian, you had damaged something that might never fully recover or heal.

Oscar entered the room quietly, sensing the shift in your mood. He sat beside you, his presence had always been comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions you had been holding back.

“Was I too harsh, Osc?” You whispered, voice barely audible.

He frowned slightly, tilting his head to look at you. “No, you weren’t. She needed to hear all of it.”

“I know,” you replied, voice trembling. “But what if I lose her because of this? What if she hates me for it?”

You felt your tears welling up again, but this time you couldn’t stop them anymore. They spilled down your cheeks, unchecked, as you finally let go of the tension and frustration you had been carrying.

“I’m not being harsh to punish her, I just want her to understand how hard life is, how much I’ve sacrificed. But what if all she sees is me being cruel?”

Oscar pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you broke down. You rested your head on his chest, sobs coming in waves, guilt and fear crashing over you. You had always been strong for so long—too long—and now, it felt like everything was unraveling.

“She’s my baby sister,” you choked out between sobs. “I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want her to think I’m just some heartless person who only cares about money.”

Oscad held you tighter, his voice calm and steady as he spoke. “She won’t hate you. Not forever. She’s upset now, sure. But she’s young, and right now, she probably doesn’t understand why you’re doing this. But she will, trust me. One day, she’ll look back at it and realize that you did this because you love her.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening with the weight of your emotions. “I feel like I’m always the one who has to be the bad guy. I never get to be the one who’s just there for her, to support her without judgment.”

Oscar stroked your hair gently, his voice soothing. “You’ve done more for her than anyone else ever could. You’ve given her everything. You’re not the bad guy, you’re her protector, even when it means being tough on her. Yeah, maybe this will cause a rift for now, but it won’t last. She’ll come around, she’ll see that you’re doing this because you care.”

You pulled away slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” Oscar said firmly. “But even if it takes time, you can’t keep beating yourself up for doing what’s right. You’re teaching her a lesson that no one else will. You’re giving her the tools to grow up, to be responsible. Sometimes, that means being tough. That’s tough love.”

You nodded, but the guilt still gnawed at you. “I just wish I didn’t have to be this person all the time. The one who fixes things, who keeps everyone in line.”

“I know. But you’re not doing this alone anymore, okay? I’m here. Whenever it feels like it’s too much, rest on me. You can always rest on me.”

You leaned into him again, his warmth easing the ache that you’re feeling inside of you. “I just hope she understands someday,” you whispered.

“She will,” Oscar said softly, kissing the top of your head. “And until then, you’ve done what you needed to do. You’ve set her on the right path, and that’s what matters.”

As the tears slowly subsided, you felt a flicker of hope, knowing that even though this was hard, it was necessary. Even if your sister doesn't see it now, you could only hope that one day, she would understand that everything you did was out of love.

The weight on your shoulders became a little lighter, knowing that Oscar was right. Even if it took time, even if there were still battles to fight, you knew you weren’t facing them alone anymore, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to breathe. You had done what needed to be done. Now it was up to your sister to follow through.

489 notes · View notes

wolfish-trickster · 6 months ago

Text

Pen pal

Geto x fem!reader

College AU

Word count: 12,6K

Summary: After your meme post about your STEM studies is noticed by a kind stranger the two of you start a conversation and become internet friends.

Warnings: cussing, typos, grammar mistakes, probably not accurate for all colleges since I'm using mine as a reference, fluff, angst, slowburn, eventual smut (i'm bad at writing it so sorry)

A/N: wanted to write angsty af, but turned to smut.... enjoy and don't get used to it 😂

You hit send and stretch on your chair, your spine cracks after sitting down and hunching over your laptop for so long. It wasn't the healthiest but once you started writing you couldn't stop. Words in your begged you to let them out into the world. Or rather your final essay.

It took a while but it was finally finished. A week in advance, might you add. With this thing off your hands you could finally relax and concider the first year of your college to be officially over. All finals done and graded, no fails or retakes. And you have three months of doing absolutely nothing before you.

You smiled looking at the mail to the professor, your essay attached and secured.

Wait a minute.

The file you saved and attached has a different name than your final version.

You panic, quickly attach the file titled "final draft" and write: I'm sosorry mr prof i acidentally sentd the wrong file, this is the corr.rect one.

Only after you hit send did you notice all the typos but frankly you didn't care. Even this little embarassment was way better than your little what you deem funny notes written everywhere in your essays. It's like a fun excercise for you, using humor to keep your brain from falling asleep and potentionally hitting a block.

"Calm down heart, everything is okay," you whisper to yourself, "look, the correct version is there. Now you can start a summer break. So please, stop beating so fast."

But your heart knew something you didn't yet and kept rapidly beating. You stared at the new mail. The correct file was right there so why-

You didn't copy the conclusion from the draft to the final file. You checked the final draft just in case and sure enough the three paragraphs you wrote ten minutes ago weren't there.

"How can I be this fucking stupid?!" you cussed at yourself while you were pressing ctrl, c and v keys fixing your mistake.

This time you took deep breaths, wrote gramatically correct apology, attached the correct file (which you opened before you attached it) and finally hit send.

You finally calmed down. Now that you think about it the poor professor of yours will be so confused but amused as well. You chuckled to yourself and already formed a meme in your head.

After couple of minutes it was shining proudly on your laptop screen:

Maybe it was the sleep deprived state you were in or the hilarity of your dumbness but right now you though this was the funniest meme you've ever created. You proudly logged on your tumblr account and posted it.

Your blog was relatively small, only reblogging interesting pictures and almost never making your own original posts. And even those you did make didn't get any recognision so you started treating it as your own personal diary. Venting about stuff that went wrong in your life, making memes either about things happening to you or after your brain once again made a weird connection between two subjects discussed in class. Almost no one but you found them funny, hence the lack of notes under your posts but you stopped caring a long time ago. You found them funny and it was all that mattered.

But now all that matter was you finally getting a good night's sleep with no stress, no alarm waking you up early to study, absolutely nothing.

Being dumb as always you forgot to turn off your usual 7am alarm. Groaning you rached for your phone and with one eye still closed you tried turning it off. Only to notice something unusual. You got a notification. From tumblr. Someone liked your post. And commented too!

All sleepiness left your body as you quickly went into the app on your phone and checked the notes.

⬛ black-swallow commented: damn and here i thought i was the only one making dumb mistakes in college 😂

For your first ever comment it was certainly...something. You didn't know whether to comment back playfully or leave it. But out of pure curiosity you commented back.

@ black-swallow yeah nah, there are more of us. Btw what was the dumbest thing you did?

The reply would probably take a while, if ever, so you started your morning routine: skin care, brush your teeth, hair, etc.

As you sat down with your breakfast you checked the notes and surprisingly your new buddy commented back.

⬛️ black-swallow: i basically did the same thing you did with your essay, but i did it with my application. Had to send it four times...

You almost spit out your water. Four times? Poor fella. Must've been so stressed.

@ black-swallow oh that sounds really stressful. But hey you got in in the end!

⬛️ black-swallow: yeah, and got kicked out too :')

Okay now's the time to stop talking, unless you want to embarass yourself even further. Cringing at yourself you closed the app and turned off your phone. First person you interacted with on that god darn app and you embarass yourself like that. Unbelievable.

After finishing breakfast you had no plans for the day. Other than enjoying your fellow freshmen stress about their finals which you since long passed. You just propped up your legs and relaxed. Until you heard another tumblr notification.

But this time it was a dm.

Sorry to bother you like this but can i ask what does bioarcheology mean? Sounds terrifying.

"Calm down," you said to yourself, "it's just a dm, nothing difficult. Besides this person sounds nice. They don't know you, they can't see you, they can't hurt you."

The years of your parents beating your head with 'don't talk to strangers online' went out the window the moment you replied to the very first person reaching out to you through internet.

Nothing interesting really, i picked that class for extra credit anyways 😅

The reply came in imediately. You and this person must be in the same timezones. How lucky!

Come on, don't be so humble. When i passed my first scary sounding class i was talking about it to everyone willing to listen

Well, what was your scary sounding class then?

Biophysics

Holy 💀 physics alone is hell but mixing it with biology as well?

Ikr? Honestly some lectures were really interesting but others were like a lullaby for me 😴

I understand, some bioarcheology lectures were boring for me too. By the way what college are you on?

*were. Medicine.

Sorry, i forgot 😣 and yeah, should've guessed... sorry

Hey it's okay. And don't apologize, maybe things were supposed to be like this

What do you mean?

I wasn't feeling very well on that school, i just didn't wanna quit in the first year. And before you ask i dropped out after second

So you were forcing yourself to stay on a school you didn't like anymore for two years?

Yup. Everyone else had gotten to the schools they wanted and loved it, i felt like i was wasting my time but if i left willingly only after a year i would be a year behind everyone else. So i left it up for fate

And fate decided to kick you out

True to that. But i still like science, just not the medicine part of it...

After studying biophysics i'm not even surprised...

It took your college drop out some time to write a reply so you made yourself a cup of your favourite tea, force of habit since you studied with it too. So far you're starting to like texting with some complete stranger. Getting to know their story. Is this why people casually slide into others' dms?

Your friend finally replied.

Sorry, my roommate needed help with packing. As for your last message there were lots of other classes that were equally if not harder than biophysics, but all of them either dealt with anatomy or physiology which is basically memorizing. When it comes to finding patterns and math and using logic i'm pretty slow

You chuckled and typed a reply.

You'd like it on my college then. Lots of memorizing, very little logic. Which sucks for me because i'm the exact opposite 😂

Well, now that i'm a free man and know an insider i just might apply 👀

So now that you know he's a man. Okay, you can live with that. Even though you felt a tad more nervous now that you know something a bit more specific.

What's your school called?

It's the natural science one. The same city as your previous school

You vividly remember your bus passing by the best medical school in your entire country. You just hope he really was attending that one and not a different, less prestigeus one.

Natural science? So STEM in other words

Basically

Yeah i know which one. Coincidentally after highschool that one was my second choice in case med doesn't work out.

See, maybe fate wanted you in STEM all along

Haha, maybe 😂 My name's Suguru Geto by the way

I'm Y/N, nice to meet you :)

Summer quickly passed and the only thing you remember was your talks with Geto. They were shy and reserved at the begining, mostly starting with 'how are you?' continued with 'good, and you?' followed by some awkward silent minutes before it evolved into a deep conversation about the immortality of a cockroach.

You found out lots of things about his life. How he met his best friend in highschool, how the two of them and one other girl used to wreak havoc across the town, how they all got into the same college albait with different intentions. The girl called Shoko genuenly wanted to become a doctor dreaming about it her whole life. Geto's best friend Gojo, being very competitive but also a son of a wealthy CEO didn't need to go to a college but wanted to to be with his friends (later he admited to Geto he got into that school just to show Shoko it's not as hard as she said it was). And Geto applied because he had no idea where else to go. He liked science, biology, chemistry, being in lab, creating something new which would help the world. Med school sounded like the clear answer for him, if it wasn't for the boredom he experienced the first semester.

He told you how he struggled in some classes finding them absolutely unnecessary and beneath him, his professor condescendingly talking to them as if they were less than worm beneath the ground if they didn't know an answer. He went above and beyond to at least pass the class hoping next semester would be better. Oh how wrong he was. No matter what he did, no matter how selflessly he helped his classmates they never showed gratitude. When he upped his grade from barely passing to top of the class no one even bat an eye, as if that was a sure thing.

By the time second year came he was so mentally drained he didn't even bother to show up to classes anymore. Why bother if the teachers are just reading the text off of their powerpoint presentation and he has to learn it by himself in the end anyways?

The more he ranted to you the more you pitied him. For you STEM was the first and only path in your life, dreaming about it since you were a kid. For him though? Thinking you finally found your path only to be this utterly disappointed must've been like a stab to the back.

Getting a letter about him being expelled must've been half relieving to him and half disappointing. On one hand you have your freedom of choice back on the other you have the stress of possibly not making it in.

The entire summer wasn't just about him talking to you, no no, he was also a great listener. You complained about mundane things to him and he always answered in matter of minutes. He was always there for you, but now you were the one to be there for him as well.

Y/N i'm so stressed i feel like puking

You'll be fine, don't worry about it. If anything there are lots of plant pots on hallways for you to puke in and fertilize them ^^

As if... i'll go to the deanship like a civilized person thank you very much

Very classy geto 🙄 By the way which place holds the entrance exams? Have you found it?

B1 404, standing infront of it. Why? Did you take it someplace else last year?

No, never had to take it, had grades good enough

Show off

I know 😘

You cringed as you realized what emoji you just sent him. Force of habit from sending it to your friends whenever you manage to prank them. To your surprise he sent you back a winking AND smirking emoji. You blushed. He has never sent you anything flirty or suggestive. Why would he? The two of you didn't even know eachother that well or what the other one looked like. He could be a slimy looking weirdo with a pedo-moustache for all you knew.

Okay Y/N, gotta go now, wish me luck

Always Geto, good luck!

Can I ask you something?

It was weird for him to start your everyday conversation with this sentence, you thought.

Sure. Is it something about the school mister accepted?

No, don't worry, i'll get to exploiting you later 😏 I wanted to ask, what do you look like?

If the first message didn't make you blush the second one sure did. You never asked eachother about your appearance. You already made an image of him in your head. The longer you knew him the more your imagination turned him from a questionable weirdo to an almost cute nerd.

You'll see once the semester starts

You really think i can wait that long? Do you even know me? If you're shy would it be better if i showed you how i looked like first?

Yeah, that would be better.

It took couple of minutes before your screen lit up with a new message.

You almost passed out. There's no way someone can look this good in just an oversized tshirt and sweatpants. And a man bun of all things! The jawline, you were pretty sure it could cut diamonds. His eyes, narrow and sharp, with irises dark enough to not even see his pupils. And yet they seemed oddly kind to you.

The longer you looked at the selfie he sent you the more heat rushed to your face. There's no way a guy this gorgeous has been texting with you this entire summer.

That's not you

It is

It isn't! You just googled a model or something

A model you say 😏

That damn emoji will kill you one day. Before you could get a hold of yourself you got another selfie from him. This time he had a post-it note with your name on it between his lips.

Believe me now?

It's been a couple of days since he sent you that picture and you still haven't replied. Every morning Geto woke up and checked his phone but still no replies from you. Well, aside from a picture of a naked cat and calling it your nude.

"Your girlfriend still not talking to you?" Gojo asked.

Geto sighed. "Stop calling her my girlfriend. And yes, still nothing. I told you that last selfie would be too much for her."

Gojo took a bite from his apple. "Was worth a try," he said mouth half full of his granny smith, "didn't she send you a pic back?"

Geto showed him his phone screen and Gojo coughed out his chewed peace of apple.

"Ew, you're cleaning it," Geto jumped back from the mix of apple and spit that landed next to him on the couch.

"Hey and whose fault it is to bag a girl with an excellent sense of humor?" Gojo reluctantly went to the kitchen to get a wipe to clean up his mess. "And even if she's ugly her being funny may make up for it."

Geto sighed. "She's just a friend who happens to be my future upperclassman, I don't care if she's ugly. I mean, I'm friends with you afterall," he smirked.

Gojo showed him his tongue while pulling one of his lower eyelids down and left the living room. (A/N: what Gojo just did is like giving someone a middle finger but in japanese way)

You were more stressed than ever. Which was partially understandable, you're about to enter the second year of university tomorrow. The assignments, the lab reports, the midterms, the finals.... Your head was already spinning from the amount of studying that's infront of you. And they say the first year is usually the hardest.

But other than the usual fears you had another one called Geto Suguru. A guy you've been talking to the entire summer. A guy who has sent you bunch of winky and smirky faces. And his actual face. Twice.

Since then you'd talked sporadically. Not that he was pestering you about your own face reveal, he was oddly conciderate about you not wanting to show yourself to him just yet. Both of you were just busy. You with buying new supplies for all your classes and him with probably the same.

It wasn't that you thought of yourself as ugly or anything. On your best days you even thought of yourself as quite cute. But compared to other girls around you... you just fell into the background. Forever the side character.

Either way, the closer it got to the first day of the semester the more messages from him blew up your phone every day. Stuff as "where is the xyz class" or "does this professor take attendance every lecture?" was on a daily basis now. Gone were the deep talks or good mornings that made your heart skip a beat even before you knew what the guy sending you these messages even looked like. But you couldn't blame him. New environment. New people. If you were in his place you'd probably act the same.

For the last time you checked your phone for new messages from him. Aside from the one thanking you for a map of the campus nothing new. He must've gone to sleep already, you thought.

Checking your backpack for the last time before bed has soothed your thoughts about possibly bumping into your internet friend tomorrow. You finally went to bed.

The bus is usually empty whenever you take it to school. Which you thank all gods for because it's a thirty minute drive and with the amount of walking you still have to do to get to the school you were greatful for always finding an empty seat. Sitting by the window as usual, looking at all those different people going about their morning routine. Kids of all ages going to schools, adults either nervously honking at the car infront of them or taking their dog for a walk with no care in the stressed out world around them. You were stuck inbetween these two worlds. Still burdened with school work but also with adult chores. Stuck in your own personal limbo.

The bus turned right. A huge light blue building appeared in the corner of your eye. Outside the window was the medical school you always passed by kn your way to school. The same medical school your new friend attended few months ago. You started to wonder about him for the first time that day and your usual angxiety returned. How will you meet? And when? Would it be today? Should you approach him if you see him? How will he react?

Your train of thoughts came to a stop just like the bus. Outside the window at the bus stop stood a familiar modelylike face. The same face you took a screenshot of and stared at every day since he sent it to you.

Suguru Geto boarded the same bus. Eyes still half asleep never even looked your direction. He took a seat right infront of you giving you a perfect view of his luscius hair tied in a half up bun. You stared at him as if he was a ghost. You weren't ready to meet him this soon. What should you do? Should you tap him on the shoulder? No. Rather not. You remember how he told you about his morning temper and how he can snap at people if he doesn't get enough sleep.

Out of fear of him snapping at you you pulled your hand back and stared out the window again. You'll bump into him later. Hopefully.

You were tense the rest of the drive to your school. When the bus finally came to your stop you practically sprinted to the bus door and out onto the busy street. Not even bother to look back if Geto gave you a weird look you quickly walked up the stairs and up the hill quickly getting surrounded by fellow students. Some were familiar from the previous year, some were complete strangers. You could easily spot a freshman, by their nervous faces and unsure steps. You looked just the same before.

Now your step was more confident, knowing where to go, but your hands were nervously rubbing eachother. Sometimes you checked behind your shoulder and sure enough Geto was right there towering above most of the students. You had guessed he was tall but that tall?

No matter. Pretty soon your paths would drift apart. He already told you he has a virology lecture which takes place in a completely separate building than your biochemistry labs. If you were lucky you could pass by him in a hall today. You hoped not to though. Sitting behind him has already made your heart nearly beat out of your chest, how would it react if he was walking right towards you?

Suddenly your phone vibrated in your pocket as you walked through the front entrance. It was Geto. You exchanged phone numbers in case he ever needed anything and you weren't online to see his message. Which was what you told him. In reality you really wanted to hear his voice at some point. In a safe distance.

You pulled out your phone and checked to see what he had sent you. It was a picture of the front entrance with a caption "i'm on a highway to hell". You chuckled. Of course he would be into that type of music. Before you turned the phone off something caught your eye. It was the back of your head. Right there in the middle of the picture about to enter the school. You blushed. If only he knew he already took a picture of you.

You only replied with a smiley face and informed him you're already on your way to your first class. He wished you good luck as you did him and both of you stepped into the new chapter of your lives.

You traitor

Only a week into the semester and he already scared you half to death. Did he already find out what you looked like?

Why didn't you tell me i have to take organic chemistry again 😫

You sighed in relief.

Sorry buddy. But hey, look at it from the bright side: you already studied all of it once before. And i doubt our organic chemistry is more difficult than yours was

The lectures are fine, already had one this week. But the labs. THE LABS

Come on it can't be that bad. Judging by the pictures of your cooking over the summer, you're quite skilled at measuring and mixing ingredients. It just won't be edible

It's not that. The labs are super boring. You don't acomplish anything during them and their only purpose is for you to learn how to behave in labs in general, how to work with the various tools and how to properly write lab reports. They just prepare you for AFTER you already graduate

Isn't that how all labs are though?

Well, yes. But we at least had little competitions during our morgue classes

YOU WENT TO THE ACTUAL MORGUE 💀

No, don't worry. Me and Satoru called it that. It was actually autopsy room

Satoru. Your friend right?

Yeah

Do you miss him?

Sometimes. i mean we are still roommates but since we have different scheudals we don't get to interact much outside of weekends... But on the bright side as you like to say i can finally focus on the lectures 100%. Before Satoru used to always taunt me into playing tic-tac-toe. I miss the winning tho...

You chuckled. He was so goofy, despite looking really serious every time you caught a sight of him. Maybe he just has a resting homicide face.

Anyways, have to go now. Tomorrow is my first organic chemistry lab

Okay, good night Suguru! Good luck!

What?

You called me Suguru

Only then you realized your mistake.

I'm so sorry 😣

It's fine. I like it. Good night. Sweet dreams <3

As unlucky as you were while texting Suguru you were lucky in other aspects. Your morning lecture got cancelled. Which meant you had around two hours of free time. Which you couldn't spend in bed unfortunatelly, because the little remnants of bad luck caused you to read the mail about cancelation only after you were already in school. It was fine tho. You could finally get a taste of true college life.

You got a coffee from school café, bought a sandwitch from the diner, found yourself a couch in a chill zone near the chemistry department, which were usually all full of stressed out or relaxing students, pulled out a laptop and worked on your lab report.

Working came easy to you even though you had rushing students all around you. Even through all the noise and distraction your fingertips still dance across the keys, your mind still produced intelligent sounding senteces. You were about to save the whole file when someone tapped you kn the shoulder.

"Yeah-?" you looked up and nearly died right then and there. It was Suguru. Towering above you with his hair fully pulled up except for a small strand framing his face. Has he found you already?

"Sorry but, do you know where the room CH1 409 is? We're kinda lost and only have like 7 minutes to get there," he said sheepishly as he stepped aside revealing what you assumed were his three lab mates. Two of them were girls. You hated how jealous you started to feel.

"S-sure," you managed to stutter out. "I can take you there actually. It's a little difficult to find and I'm not the best direction giver," you chuckled awkwardly while putting your laptop back to your bag.

"Wonderful! Thank you," said one of Suguru's friends.

You nodded and walked ahead of them. It was a shame you didn't get to hear his voice more. You decided to change it.

"So, you're freshmen," you started. As much as you hated smalltalk you really wanted to hear that smooth baritone of his.

Your unluckiness strikes again. "Yeah, how did you know?" said one of the girls.

"You dummy," told her the other girl, "she knows where the lab is, she's probably had to take the exact same classes as us!"

"Oh, yeah you're right."

"And how do you like it here so far?" you tried again.

"It's great here," answered the guy, "though some classes are pretty difficult. I have no idea how I'll be able to pass."

"Don't worry, if you have motivation you'll pass," you tried encouraging him. "What about you?" you directed your question at Suguru who was walking behind everyone.

He only shrugged. "Don't know, has only been a week. Too short to judge," he answere a bit coldly.

"Oh don't mind him," one of the girls patted your back, "he can be a giant ass sometimes."

Not to me though, you thought. What about all those times he was the sweetest guy with you? Maybe he just hasn't slept well. Yeah, that must be it.

Before you could try to conversate a bit more you arrived at the lab. There were other freshmen already waiting in their lab coats on and their notebooks in hands. Suguru and his friends pulled out their lab coats as well. Disappointed at your very first (albeit unofficial) meeting you turned around to leave when one of the girls stopped you.

"Thank you so much for showing us the way!" she said cheerfully. Behind her stood Suguru. Now that you think about it he was always walking behind her. If you inspected her more closely you noticed she had a miniskirt on with fishnets underneath.

Jealousy is a beast that you usually fight off quite quickly. But today you lost. "Can I give you an advice?"

"Sure," she smiled, her perfectly white teeth stood out against the deep red lipstick she had on.

"Don't wear too much make up to labs, the fumes from chemicals could react with it and burn you. Also tie your hair up," you gestured at her long silky waves while noticing how she tried to hide her big forhead by letting it down, "they could catch on fire."

Hopefully you desguised your pettiness as good enough of an advice. The girl you were talking to seemed convinced as she thanked you prefusely before asking around for a hairtie. The other girl already pulled out hers.

You waved goodbye to the freshmen, mostly Suguru. They waved back, except for Suguru who kept looking at you quizicaly.

Your previous spot on couches was occupied. You opted for a different resting place, near a room where your next lecture will be held in. It wasn't as cozy as the couch but it was free of any people and it had a desk too. No more balancing your laptop on your thighs.

As you sat down you pulled out your laptop, notebook from labs and a phone who was already telling you about one unread message from Suguru.

Met my first unpleasant person in this place

Your heart tightened. Unpleasant?

What do you mean?

However he didn't respond back. Of course he didn't. He had labs. He was probably busy with titration or other bullshit you did a year ago. You will just have to wait.

The waiting took half a day. Right as his labs were finishing your lecture was about to start. And since this professor wasn't one of the kind ones to send you his presentations you had to take notes manually. It took more than two hours for you to finally get on your phone.

We were lost on our way to organic chem labs and i had to ask someone on a way there. The girl was nice, she even lead us there. But then she made some passive agressive comments to my friend

Oh shit. Were you really that bad?

What did the girl say?

Just told her she can't wear that much make up and has to tie her hair back. My friend has acne she masks with the make up and pretty big forhead which she told me she's self conscious of. Whatever that girl was a bitch for saying that to her

You resisted the urge to cry, swallowed the huge lump in your throat and sat down on the nearest bench. You didn't mean to be that bad. Were you really acting like a bitch? Maybe he's just exaggarating. It was only pettiness. It won't happen again.

Those were good advices tho. The fumes from chemicals could mess up with the make up and burn her skin and if she leaned down above a burner her hair could catch on fire

Once you realized how much you sounded like "that bitch" Suguru was talking about you quickly typed another message.

It was the first thing our professor told us and he beat it into our heads every time a girl came in with lose hair

A reply from him came couple of minutes later.

Yeah, maybe you're right. It's just that That girl had a weird look on her face

You had no way of replying to that. Or mood to reply as well. You just wrote him a quick ttyl and went to the bus stop. On your way downhill from the school you felt your face heating up more and more from embarassement. You knew you should've fought with jealousy more. You knew you should've kept your mouth shut. Now that moment will haunt you forever. And not only that, if you ever get enough courage to reveal yourself to him he will instantly remember you as his first unpleasant person in there.

All in all, it was just the first week but you already want the whole semester to end.

Couple of weeks passed. Suguru and you texted nearly every day. Mostly after school. Sometimes he teased you by sending you picutres of stray cats near the campus with captions 'this you?' to which you always sent a rolling eye emoji.

Makes me wonder how many times we passed eachother 🤔

Lots, trust me

Whaaa? And you never bothered to talk to me?

We did actually

Your last message made him lean back too much on his chair and fall.

"You okay?" asked Shoko who still visited him and Gojo either out of boredom or nostalgia's sake.

Suguru ignored her concern and quickly shuffled in his memory. He has talked to so many people outside his class already. Mostly asking for directions to different places. But for the love of him he couldn't figure out if he talked to any girls or how many he talked to. Or how they looked like.

Aaaand can you tell me what we talked about?

You were asking for directions to a lab

Do you even know how little that narrows it down? And why are you so talkative today anyways? Did i tell you something rude or?

No. It's biochemistry. I can't figure it out 😭

Aaaw, my poor girl

As much as he liked the flustered reactions whenever he happened to mildly flirt with you he genuenly meant it this time. He remembers his own time figuratively and literally crying over biochemistry. He decided to take a leap of faith.

How about i study with you? I had biochemistry for two whole semesters and passed it by some miracle

You'd do that for me?

Sure. Besides after all the material you've already sent me and how much you already helped me it's about time i helped you back. Otherwise i just feel like a leech

There was no reply from you for couple of minutes and Suguru was affraid he maybe overstepped this invisible line you drew between them.

He heard hushed voices behind his back.

"What?" he snapped a little more annoyed than he intended.

"Is that girl ignoring you again?" Shoko puffed out some smoke from her cigarette.

"She isn't ignoring me," he waved his hand around in the cloud of smoke clearing the air a bit, "it just takes her a little longer."

"Riiight," Shoko put her cigarette between her lips again.

"I don't understand how the two of you haven't met already," Gojo complained. He should be studying along with Shoko but as usual he kept lounging around, dismissing Shoko's comments about him failing this class for sure with that attitude.

"Half of the semester is behind us already and you still have no idea how she looks like."

"She's shy, let her be."

"Aaaw, look how he's defending his girlfriend," Gojo cooed.

Geto glared.

"Soon to be girlfriend," Gojo corrected himself.

"With the way she's talking to me soon to be an ex friend. She's been so distant lately..." he rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Don't worry, maybe she's just busy," Shoko reassured him.

"She did mention something about biochemistry."

"See!"

"Even then, her messages have been rather weird. Sometimes she's her happy talkative self and other days she barely texts back a full sentence," he sighed.

Gojo patted his shoulder. "That's girls for you. Which reminds me," he pulled out his own phone out of his pocket, "there's a joined party for med students and scientists as well. How about we go? You'll finally get to relax," he adressed poor Shoko hovering above her notes, "and you can invite your soon to be slash maybe never be girlfriend and finally meet her! I plan on meeting this one lady myself so we can organize a double date if you're shy."

"No matter how much you try Utahime will still tell you to go fuck yourself," Shoko reminded him.

Gojo turned around at her. "Well first of all-!"

Geto payed no mind to their arguement anymore. His phone buzzed in his hand. You replied.

Okay. But can we study right now please? Through a phone call?

In a speed of light Geto sneaked out of the living room to his own bedroom and searched for his old biochemistry notes. Even though he offered to help he himself was pretty clueless and barely passed the finals. Still the urge to finally hear your voice was bigger than the embarassment possibly awaiting him.

As soon as he found the old dusty notebook he sat down at his desk and dialed you.

It took only two rings for you to answer.

"Hello?"

By god your voice sounded so cute. He wanted to squich your cheeks so bad. Unfortunatelly he couldn't remember a single person he talked to who would even come close to sounding like you. Granted, the phone makes everyone's voice sound a bit robotic but still. Should he start recording every conversation he has from now on?

"Well hello there," he greeted back with a smile. "So, what is it you need help with?"

You hummed. He distantly heard ruffling of couple of papers. Eventually you answered. "Gluconeogenesis."

"Okay, a bit more specificly?" he already started looking for a page about it but couldn't seem to find it. Did they even cover it?

"Well, the whole thing basically. I know it's glycolysis but backwards but in the presentation the professor showed us were couple of reactions that looked confusing and I don't know what else to do."

Even though he found your whine at the end of your sentence cute he was frantically turning page after page looking for any headtitle starting on G but nothing.

Someone opened his door.

"Who're you talking to?" both his best friend and Shoko peaked through the opened door.

Geto waved at them to leave. "Uhm give me a moment okay?" he said to the phone and then pushed it to his shoulder. "Shoko do you have a biochemistry notebook here?"

"Is that your girl?" she asked insted, excitement in her eyes. "Put her on loudspeaker!"

"Do you have it or not?!"

"If I say I do will you let me hear her?"

Geto contemplated. He wanted to keep you just to himself for a while longer. But without Shoko's help...

Gojo came in with his own half torn notebook dangling it infront of Geto. "It's all yours if you let us hear her."

Geto frowned into his best friends smirked face which matched Shoko's. He rolled his eyes and finally spoke to the phone again. "Listen Y/N, my friends want to hear you, can I put you on a loudspeaker?"

"Uhm, sure?"

As soon as he did Gojo started asking bunch of questions. "Heey how are you? Are you the Y/N Sugu won't shut up about? How do you look like? Why didn't you send my boy a selfie? He likes black so go on and buy some nice black lingerie for him yeah?"

By the time he finished his little rant Geto covered his phones's microphone and nearly kicked him in the gut. Hopefully you didn't hear most of his questions.

Shoko punched him as well chastising him for scaring you off. "Don't mind him Y/N, you'll get used to him. Now say something already!"

After a second of silence you peeped out a shy: "Hi."

"Oh my god Suguru she sounds so cute," Gojo gushed.

"Don't let her near him," Shoko pointed at Gojo. "It was nice to hear you Y/N, can't wait for Suguru to introduce you to us properly. Enjoy your study date!" she said as she dragged Gojo away before he could blabber out some more inapropriate things.

Suguru turned the loudspeaker off and it was just you two again.

"What the hell was that," you asked with panic in your voice.

"My friends trying to ruin my life. They mean well though, don't worry. It's just rare for them to see me interacting with a girl."

"But whenever I see you on the halls you're surrounded by couple of girls though."

Geto smirked. "Is that jealousy I hear?"

"Maybe."

Before he could press any further you asked about biochemistry and he quickly found the page he needed. Thankfully back then Gojo was at least trying to take notes in classes so the entire gluconeogenesis was neatly explained. After about twenty minutes you exclaimed you finally understood and thanked him.

"My pleasure Y/N. Was this why you weren't talking to me that much?" he leaned back on his chair.

"This and another thing, but it's okay now."

"Aaaw, what other thing? You know you can always talk to me right?"

"I know, but not this time. Sorry."

"It's fine," he said sadly. In the back of his mind he imagined bunch of different scenarios that could trouble you. Failed test, mean classmates, or worse a crush on a classmate.

"Hey, you have a nice voice," your words pulled him from his thoughts.

He chuckled. "Look who's talking. Even though are you sure it was me you talked to? I swear I never heard such a melodic voice from anyone in school."

"Well, you were kinda in a hurry. And was focusing elsewhere too..."

"Huh? What do you mean?" he genuenly didn't understand. Focusing elsewhere?

"Nevermind. By the way how do you like it so far? It's been almost half a semester now."

"It's going pretty good. Much more interesting than med school. Even though," he rocked on his chair back and forth, "it would've been nicer if we could've met face to face."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"I don't think that's a good idea though."

He quickly stopped rocking and sat up straight. "What? Y/N..." he couldn't even find words. Why wouldn't you want to meet up with him? "Y/N, have I been rude to you? Have I scared you off while we talked in real life?"

"No."

He sighed in relief.

"You barely even looked at me."

His heart tightened again.

"It's just that," you paused for a second trying to put together a whole sentence, "I've seen the girls you hang around Suguru and all of them are really beautiful. Standing besides them I look nothing special. You would be disappointed if we met and you knew it was me. Isn't it better this way? I bet you imagine me as this model or something," you chuckled but he could hear the sadness in your voice.

"Y/N, first of all my imagination is pretty bad so I only imagine you as a girl with your name written across your face," you chuckled at that which made his heart swell, "and second of all those girls hang around me, not the other way around. Most of the time we travel in groups and look for places together which is way more efficient than getting lost alone. Besides, none of them can even hold a candle to you intellectually. Once in a virology lab this one girl gathered a sample of bacteria on that wire thingy and put the whole thing into the burner. She was very surprised why she had nothing grown on her petri dish a week later"

"Oh my god," you laughed out loud. "How will she pass?"

"Maybe she won't. I heard some other upperclassmen say the first year is usually treated as a sorting out year."

"It's possible. But her effectively killing all her bacteria sample is something else."

"It is," he chuckled at the memory. "Now that I think about it do you remember that unpleasant girl i told you some weeks back?"

"Yeah," you said emotionlessly but he paid it no mind.

"The girl she gave advice to was the same girl who burned off all her bacteria. Maybe she was right about advicing her like that. Maybe she could smell the stupid on her."

"Maybe."

There it was again. The one word answers.

"What is it now?" he asked concerned.

"Nothing, I just," you paused. He could sense a hesitation from your side. Eventually you spoke up again. "I just think I know that girl."

"Oh? Is she your friend?"

"More or less."

"Then I'm sorry if I offended her."

"Nah, it's fine. Do you still think of her as a bitch?"

"No."

"Then all's fine," he could hear you smile and he smiled as well.

"Well Suguru, as much as I like hearing your voice I have to go to sleep now. Thank you for explaining it to me again. I don't know what I would've done without you."

His heart sped up at the praise. "It was fine Y/N, that's what friends are for right? Oh and one more thing!"

"Yeah?"

He hesitated but finally he gathered enough courage. "Satoru told me about an upcoming party for scientists. Are you coming?" he asked hopefully.

"Maybe. It should be after a midterm from embryology. Let me check."

He patiently waited while you checked your calendar. Even if you wouldn't be going he would still find a way to meet you. Now that he knows what you sound like he could just walk around and listen to people talking.

"No, unfortunately it's the night before the midterm. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he tried masking his disappointment. Even though he admired how dedicated you were to your studies he really wished you could make an exception.

"Hey, maybe next time, okay?"

"Yeah, maybe fate will arrange my life again," he joked and you chuckled.

"Yeah. You never know. Good night Suguru. Sweet dreams."

Your midterm was around the corner. As was the party Suguru mentioned. You still see him in halls here and there, often surrounded by a group of people. There didn't seem to be a time where he was alone. Unsurprisingly so, since he looked like... well, like him. To sooth your jealousy there didn't seem to be any prominent lady hanging around him all the time. The faces in his close circle were always changing. Even the famous dummy from virology seemed to disappear. Maybe his words about merely traveling together were true.

Today however you payed no attention to him or his newfound friends. The only thing on your mind was your midterm. Other groups have already taken it and you heard them say how life draining it was. Their words were confirmed after you passed by a group of your friends who just finished it. Well, friends was a strong word. As freshmen you often relied on eachother but now that you know your way around and you were sorted jnto different groups you talked less and less.

"Hey," you greeted them. "How was it?"

"Run for your life girl," the one who had most prominent eyebags replied.

Some other people who you didn't know nodded, their faces equally as tired. Eveb the biggest know it all you've met in this darn buidling was mumbling something about retaking it.

From there your legs took you straight to library. It didn't look like those in movies you watched growing up. No fancy decoration or tables with green lamps. Just basic library with books stacked up to the ceiling, basic wooden uncomfortable looking chairs and tables with chipped edges. A pleasure to study there.

With a list of helpful books in your phone you walked around not looking for a particular one. Just procrastinating. If you managed to find one off your list you just flipped around and put it back in. All terms in there were already familiar to you. You doubted you could learn anything new by now.

Few rows bahind you something fell to the ground, the loud noise making you jump. A pretty loud 'fuck' along with a very familiar scolding from librarian soon followed. Amused you peeked into the corridor to check the poor guy's first experience with the dreaded librarian. It must be a freshman. Everyone else already knows to not even breath when in closed proximity of that witch.

It really was a freshman. But your freshman. Suguru stumbled from the alley into the corridor and quickly hid in the same row you were in, running by you, barely sparing you a glance.

The librarian calmed down and returned to her usual spot, a spawnpoint as you liked to call it. Once she did Suguru sighed and leaned back, a small smile tugging on his lips.

You admired him for a bit. It's been a long time since you've seen him, let alone been this close to him. Once he calmed down his head fell back to its usual level and he finally noticed you. His smile faded and your heart cracked. "Hi," he politely greeted. You only nodded back aknowledging him and opened the book you held on a random page. The whole book could be upside down and you would never even know, the only thing you were focusing on was his figure. Which was moving slowly towards you.

"Uhm, excuse me," his melodic voice made you look up at him. Your cheeks got heated as you waited for his next words. "Could you move?" he asked and pointed at the shelf you were leaning on.

"Oh, sorry," you whispered back and quickly moved. Your legs itched to walk away completely to not embarass yourself even further but something stopped you. A sudden urge rose inside you. 'Talk to him. Tell him.'

He flipped through his book, completely unbothered by his surroundings. Thank god for that. It gave you some time to psych yourself up. Twice you opened your mouth and closed it again. He took out his phone to snap couple of pictures of the pages in his hands. An idea.

You pulled your own phone out and messaged him.

Hey, you there?

After hitting send it only took couple of seconds for his phone to vibrate. He glanced at it again with annoyance but after a while a smile creeped up his face as his fingers danced across the screen.

Well hello, how was the study session?

Good. Listen, where are you right now?

Butterflies flew around your insides as you watched him type.

In library. Why? Wanna meet? ;)

This is it. It's now or never.

Look left.

With hope filled eyes you watched him and waited. The message finally got delivered. He read it. Then he turned his head. Your eyes finally met.

"Hi," you said carefully.

"Hi," he repeated, a dumbstruck expression on his face.

You expected a lot. Everything actually. But not what he did. It was just a small movement, some would write it off as just a spasm of muscles. In split second his eyes drifted from your face to someplace behind you and back down to you. As if checking if you're really the only one there.

Your throat tightened as tears slowly clouded your vision. "You're disappointed, right?"

That brought him back to reality as he shook his head. "No, no, of course not. Just surprised, that's all!"

How you wished you believed him. A tear has already escaped your eye and you cursed yourself. Not wanting to embarass yourself even further you turned around ready to leave.

"Hey, wait up," he stopped you by putting his large hand on your shoulder.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTHS," came an angry voice of the librarian. Both of your hearts stopped beating for a moment.

"Outside?" he mouthed to you.

You nodded and both of you practically sublimated out of there. Standing outside he finally took a good look at you. His eyes resting only on you, despite people walking around. Feeling selfconscious you tugged on your coat. It was supposed to snow today so you took the fluffiest you had, making you look three times your size.

"Ehm, so," you broke the silence, "it was nice meeting you and all but, I have midterm to study for sooo..."

"Oh, but we only just met," he pouted. It was cute, seeing a hunk of a man like him pouting like a kid who lost his favourite toy.

"Sorry," you apologized genuenly meaning it. Even though you'd love to stay time was pressing down on you.

Suddenly his eyes lit up. "Do you remember the party I mentioned to you?"

"The one in two days? Yeah, I remember. Why?"

He grinned. "My roommate is going there so my place will be free. And I need to study as well so we can study together. What do you say?"

His suggestion was tempting. But then again, being with him, all alone, possibly even staying the night? But you always studied much more efficient when you had someone beside you.

After few moments of pondering you nodded making his eyes even brighter.

"Great! I'll text you the address," he held up his phone and winked. "See you later kitten."

"This was probably a bad idea," you tell yourself as you check the address one last time. You were already standing under the building. A pretty fancy one. Didn't look like dorms at all. Maybe it wasn't. He did mention his roommate is unholy rich though so maybe this is one of the perks of being his friend?

First snowflakes dropped on your phone screen. You looked up. The clouds didn't even look dark enough to start snowing. The weather forecast didn't mentikn it either. You pulled your coat tighter around you a regretted not putting on another layer just in case like you use to.

The front entrance opened revealing Suguru in black sweatpants and black knitted sweater. "There you are! Come in before you freeze," he stepped aside and held the door open for you.

His place was on the eighth floor. The ride in the elevator wasn't long but for you, being so close to Suguru, it seemed like hours. Finally the elevator dinged and the doors opened. A white haired man wearing a pretty expensive looking shirt stood infront of it. You looked up and him and gulped. What kind of a man wears shades in the building?

"Sugu, is that her?" the man asked pointing a finger at you not even looking in your direction.

Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, this is her. Y/N, this is-"

"Satoru," he took your cold hand in his and leaned down, "pleasure to meet you."

Before he could kiss the back of your hand you pulled it from under his nose and held defensively against your chest. Suguru's shades slid down his nose slightly, revealing surprised blue eyes.

Giggling came from behind him. "I like her," said a brunnette in dark blue dress. "I'm Ieri."

"I'm Y/N," you smiled.

Suguru cleared his throat. "Okay now that we all know who the other one is," he placed his hand on your lower back making your blood quickly travel to your cheeks, "we better go study. Enjoy the party you two," he gently pushed you inside the open apartment door.

"Fine, fine," Satoru rolled his eyes. "If you need condoms I put some of mine in your bedside table."

"We are really going to study though," you said but he only chuckled.

"Yeah I know. Embryology," he winked under his shades and pulled Ieri along with him leaving you and blushing Suguru behind. Alone.

"Ignore him," he said and offered you Ieri's soft slippers. "Tea?"

"Yes please," you took of your coat and hanged it. Their place didn't look like it belonged to a pair of students at all. Everything looked expensive. The ridiculously giant aquarium in the living room wasn't helping at all. Upon further inspection you only saw two fish in there, one black the other white.

Suguru came back from the kitchen. "Those were Satoru's idea," he tapped the aquarium glass.

"It's cute. To represent you and him?"

"Yeah," he put his hands in his pockets and stood beside you. In the glass' reflection yout two almost looked like you were on a date in aquarium. You smiled at the thought. "He also wanted Ieri to have one as well but she refused. I have a feeling she's shipping us."

You chuckled. "Then my presence must be ruining her ship."

"Hmm, are you suggesting something?" he smirked and leaned in closer to you.

"Ehm," you averted your eyes and pulled your backpack off of your shoulders, "we got work to do."

"Right," he straightened back up, his expression unreadable. "Do you want to stay here or go to my bedroom?"

"We can go to yours," you say without actually thinking how it might make you look. Thankfully Suguru found no deeper meaning behind it and lead you to a decently big room. You could tell he was preparing for your visit. No man is this tidy. Even though it's Suguru.

"Make yourself at home, I'll go finish the tea."

"Thanks."

You walked around a bit. There were some pictures of his youth. Some were with people you didn't recognise, some with young Satoru. On all of them he looked extremely cute. Puberty must've hit him like a truck. You also took notice of the dumbells and other training equipment hidden in the corner. You always assumed people like him just went to a gym, or better yet had their own personal gym. Guess he's more of an introvert than you gave him credit for.

Without any further inspections you sat down on his bed, so soft and welcoming. You resisted the urge to lay back and drift off to sleep. It would be perfect. Big soft warm bed, picking up snowstorm outside, a handsome man laying by your side. You shook your head. You're just friends. You're just a friend.

"Tea is here," he walked in with two mugs in his hand handing one to you.

You just held it, wamring up your cold fingers. "Thanks."

With a small smile he nodded and sat right across you on his gamer chair. Did he play videogames as well?

"So, how does the whole studying in pair go?"

You sipped on your tea. Actually you had no idea. The only collective studying yoj ever did was with him through a phone that one time. It was more him explaining things to you rather than mutual teaching. In the end you shrugged. "We'll have to figure it out as we go."

"Guess we will," he leaned back.

He gazed at you so long it made you selfconscious. "What?" you giggled nervously.

He shook his head. "Nothing, just," he moved to lean forward on his legs, "never thought I'd have you here."

"Weren't you the one to beg for a meeting?" recalled all the times he asked on which floor of the school you were or asking for your schedual to surprise you after class.

"I didn't mean that," he said and pointed at his bed. "I meant here."

You looked down and blushed. "Oh."

He chuckled at your flustered expression. "Don't worry, I'm not like Satoru."

"Like Satoru?"

"Horny."

You choked.

"C-can we start studying now?"

He nodded.

The clock on his bedroom wall slowly ticked away. You revised everything yoh needed and now was just helping Suguru. In the past hour he restlessly moved from sitting on his chair, to sitting on the parapet to now sitting on the ground right between your legs while you were playing with his long silky hair.

"Come on Suguru! I know you know this!" you tapped his scalp.

"Even if you threatened to shoot me I wouldn't know," he groaned and flipped through his notes again. "Maybe it won't even be on the damn midterm."

"The last time I said this I had to retake it. Besides if you don't pass on the first time then you'll have to retake after Christmas along with your finals. Do you want that?"

He leaned into your hands and closed his eyes. "That won't happen," he tilted his head back and looked at you, "because I have you now."

You chuckled and somehow didn't get flustered. Maybe you were desentisized after spending multiple hours on end with him? "Like I will sit there with you while you take it."

"Why not? I could squeeze you up," he got up from his spot and hugged you real tight against him, "and put you in my pocket like a talisman."

You giggled at him hugging and squeezing you. Without even realizing it he fell down with you in his arms on his massive bed, laughing along with you. When you opened your eyes you were met with his bare neck and long hair framing it. You looked up and realized how close the tow of you are. And how dark it has gotten outside.

He noticed how awkwardly you held your hands infront of you and losened his grip. "I'm sorry. Do you want to go?"

You shook your head and shushed the butterflies in your stomach. "Nope, I just-" you looked away from him, "maybe you're used to it but I've never been this close to a man before..."

He smiled and brushed your hair out of your face to get a better look at you. "I'm not used to it. I told you it's not often I'm close with a member of the opposite sex, and that's why Satoru and Ieri acted so weird. Besides," his hand fell from the top of your head to your neck and rested there, "you're the first girl to lay in this bed."

Your eyes went wide. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

You had no words. How do normal people even react to something like that? You just hummed and let your eyes roam around his face. He looked really cute right now. Like a cat. Even before he always reminded you of a cat. One of your hands rose up from your chest and with the lenght of your forefinger petted him under his jaw, like you would a cat.

"Meow," he said and you chuckled. But your finger didn't stop petting. Hiw own thumbed rubbed the back of your neck, his palm heavy on the side of it.

"I like bwing around you," you confessed."

"Me too. You're so calming."

You hummed and closed your eyes. "Would you mind if I stayed the night?"

"Not at all. I"ll even drive you to school tomorrow so you won't have to freeze in a bus."

Your eyes shot open. "You have a car?"

He shook his head. "Satoru does. He owes me for so much already. And he forgot his keys here too."

You swatted his shoulder lightly. "You're the worst!"

"Only for you."

There it was again. That damn smirk you imagined every time he sent it in an emoji form. Now it was right infront of your face. You readjusted your head. Now it was on the same level as his face as opposed to before when it was underneath it.

"Why did you message me that first time?"

He thought for a while. "Out of boredom mostly. But I'm glad I did," his hand moved from your neck up to your cheek.

"And why did you keep messaging me?"

"Why did you?"

You weren't sure yourself. "I don't know. You were nice I guess."

"And?" he moved closer to you, the tip of his nose brushing your own.

"I don't know!" You whined and moved your head to brush his nose. "What do you want to hear from me?"

"A confession or something," he mumbled. "I really want to hear you say you like me."

Your movement stopped. He wanted what? "Why?"

"Because," he brushed his thumb on your cheek, "I like you and I want to hear you say it back."

"You like me?" you asked not believing him.

"I do."

"Why?" some self-hating tears burned your eyes. There's no way you were this lucky. There's no way he's serious. Someone like him won't just start liking someone like you.

"Because I felt like it. Will you let me?" he asked and quickly glanced down at your lips. His question was about more than him liking you.

You closed your eyes and let the fate play out this scenario however it wanted. It was its fault he came into your life in the first place.

Suguru smiled and pulled your head towards him. His lips were soft. At first it was just a snall peck, filling your chest with warmth much sweeter than the tea he made you. When he pulled back you kissed him again. He locked your lips together, enjoying the way you moved against him. His other hand pulled your waist towards him and you sighed into his mouth. No one has ever touched you like this before. You could get used to this.

When sweet kisses weren't enough for him anymore he rolled you on your back while stradling you and deepened the kiss. You were surprised, sure, but certainly not dissapointed. You pulled on his lose hair, making him moan into you. This amount of power over a man wasn't so bad. Your hands snaked around his neck while his lowered to your thighs propping them up to lock around his waist. Something hard poked into your center.

Your eyes shot open and you gently pushed on his shoulders to give you some time to breathe.

"Do you want to stop?" he asked. From this short of a distance you could finally see his pupils agajnst his dark eyes. They were blown wide with desire.

You gulped and shook your head. "I'm scared."

He smiled gently and stroked your cheek. "Shh, it's okay. I'll be gentle."

His other hand played with the hem of your shirt, silently asked for permission. Which you gave.

He pulled your shirt of exposing your bare chest to him. You don't even know what you thought that morning not putting on a bra. But right now you were kinda glad you didn't. Less time wasting.

He immediatelly started kissing a path from your neck down to your chest. Sucking a hickey on your sternutm while both of his hands squeezed and massaged your breasts, thumbs flicking across your nipples. You whined at the foreign feeling. The hardness between your legs got even more prominent. Your legs locked around his torso and lifted your upper half to be close to him again. While your ass was off the bed he tried to pull down your warm trousers. Eventually they joined your shirt on the floor.

"Not fair," you whined and pulled on his sweater.

"Lemme fix it," he mumbled into your skin and sat up to pull his clothes away.

Of course he had a six pack. Of course he did. He leaned down and continued kissing your chest. You saw his back muscles. You swore he had muscle groups you thought were a myth.

Once his mouth got to your panties you came to a horrifying realization: you didn't shave.

"Sugu, stop," you tapped on his back making him look up at you.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't," you looked away in embarassment.

"You didn't what, sweet?" he caressed the inside of your thigh and you shivered.

"It's a mess down there," you finally admitted hiding your face in your hands.

He tsked and pulled your hands from your face giving you a soft kiss. "No good man is affraid of a little forrest," he winked at you and dove right back where he stopped.

"Oh my- Sugu~"

He made out with your lower lips just as passionately as he did with your upper ones. Not used to the new sensation your legs tried to close but he held them wide open, even folded them up against your chest giving him better access. You moaned and whined, everytime you did he tried something new. New speed, new preassure. He spelled his own name on your clit with his tongue before sucking it, making sure to make you feel as good as possible.

Suddenly something poked your entrance. You shot your eyes opened panicked but quickly shut them closed when his long finger stroke your insides. No one has ever touched you in there. Not even yourself. Once he made a 'come closer' motion you were done for.

With a final kiss he pulled out his glitening forefinger. "Well, that was fast," he commented.

"Shut up," you hid your face once again.

He chuckled and moved up again, your legs found their home around his waist. He kissed your hands hiding your face. "It's cute kitten, don't hide away from me," he tapped your wrist. You pulled your hand away revealing your flushed face. "There you are," he smiled and kissed you. He licked inside your mouth and you tasted something more than just his saliva.

While he made out he pulled down his sweatpants and the hardness you felt before sprang free now. Too embarassed you didn't even attempt to glance down. Feeling how big he was down there was way more than seeing it.

"No way that will fit inside," you sighed into his mouth.

"We'll make it," he kissed you before straigthening up and leaning to the side of the bed.

"What are you-?"

"You wouldn't want to study embryology in practice now, would you?" he winked and opened his bedside table.

Embarassed you looked away from him and studied the arm that was still resting beside your head. His bicep must be bigger than your face. And the veins on his fore arms! A wet dream of every nurse for sure.

You mentally slap yourself. Why must you always think like a scientist?!

While you were scolding yourself he quickly slipped on a condom and his tip was now poking at your entrance.

"This will probably hurt," he whispered into your ear.

You found his hand and held it tightly, his fingers interlocking yours. "I trust you."

Slowly, inch by inch he moved inside. If his finger was way too long you weren't even ready for his nether region. He stretched you out in all directions, but mostly forward as he disappeared inside you more and more. You whined here and there but he kissed your cheek and told you how well you're doing and how it will feel good afterwards. His thumb kept rubbing the back of your hand as he moved his hips thrusting up into you.

Then, you didn't even know how but he was all inside. Once he was he groaned. "Fuck," he breathed out and his head fell into the crook of your neck and kissed you there. "You're so soft."

He breathed against your neck and you felt shivers run down your spine. He pulsed inside you and by the way he was breathing you knew he was trying to control himself to not hurt you. Oh how you loved this man.

Your other hand, the one not holding onto his, got lost in his hair. "Y-you can move."

You felt him grin against your skin. He pulled out, making you feel awfully empty, but quickly filling you up again making you gasp. "Oh~"

His arm moved from beside your head to hold your ass in place as he thrusted inside. Slow and steady. His tip always caressed that one spot his finger previously discovered. Every time you moaned he kissed yet another hickie into your neck and you feared you won't be able to last long.

A new feeling grew inside you. Much more powerful than the one before. "S-Sugu~" you breathed out, not being able to finish your sentence.

"Yes kitten?" He lifted his head. God he looked amazing. With his black hair framing his face and little beads of sweat forming on his forhead, like a crown of dewdrops.

"I-I-" he hit that spot again and you moaned seeing stars.

"Oh, you like it here," he angled his hips and poked that spongy spot again.

"N-n-n-" in this new position his pelvis rubbed just perfectly against your clit and it was damn near impossible for yout to even think.

"You're close?"

You nodded.

"Right behind you," he moaned and kept hitting that one wonderful spot unditl both of you fell apart. You first, him following closely after, filling the condom to the point of it leaking around his base. His head fell back into the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses and catching his breath. Your own chest went up and down, touching his toned one with every breath. He stayed inside, staying nice and warm. You came to love being stretched like this. Unfortunately, both of your bodies would soon grow cold and would have to separate. He pulled out making you hiss.

"Sorry," he chuckled.

"Nah," you caressed the side of his face, "I loved it."

He smiled and kissed your palm. "Sleepy?"

You nodded and as if on cue yawned. Damn he was only with you once and he already knew your body better than you.

He got rid of his condom and threw covers over both of you, pulling your bodies together in the process. This was great. Exactly as you imagined. You and him together after a good and thorough study session, nice and warm while winter went crazy outside.

How could one stay awake?

Suguru stroked your naked back. Up and down, then back to your head again, scratching you like a cat. He woke up in the middle of the night and had been caressing you ever since. Usually he would curse this sudden wave of insomnia but now he was greatful. Who knows when will the two of you be like this? With how seriously you take school and his own hectic schedual mixed in? Better to enjoy this while he can.

Sun began to rise when he heard noises outside his bedroom. Satoru must be back.

Sure enough the white haired man stumbled through the threshold, his shades aslant and shakimg from the outside cold.

He made his way into kitchen but stopped once he got a peek into his bestfriend's bedroom. Thankfully you were laying chest to chest on him and most of you was covered by his blanket anyways but still Suguru tried to cover you from unwanted eyes.

Satoru grinned. "Just study?"

Suguru threw a pillow at him.

#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto fluff #geto smut #geto x y/n #geto x you #jjk geto #jjk au #geto suguru x reader fluff #geto suguru x reader smut

117 notes · View notes

obsessioncollector · 5 months ago

Text

Hi friends! Inspired by @librarycards I wanted to make a post celebrating Women in Translation Month! Anglophone readers generally pay embarrassingly little attention to works in other languages, and that's even more true when it comes to literature by women, so I will jump at any chance to promote my faves 🥰 Here are some recs from 9 different languages! Also, I wrote this on my phone, so apologies for any typos or errors!

1. Trieste by Daša Drndić, trans. Ellen Elias-Bursać (Croatian): An all-time favorite. Much of Drndić's work interrogates the legacy of atrocities in Europe, particularly eastern Europe. Trieste is a haunting contemplative novel centered on an elderly Italian Jewish woman whose family converted to Catholicism during the Mussolini era and were complicit in the fascist violence surrounding them in order to protect themselves.

2. Cursed Bunny by Bora Chung, trans. Anton Hur (Korean): A collection of short stories that are difficult to classify by genre–speculative fiction in the broadest sense. The first story is about a monster in a woman's toilet, which sounds impossible to pull off in a serious, thought-provoking manner, but Chung does so easily—these are the kind of stories that are hard to explain the brilliance of secondhand.

3. Sweet Days of Discipline by Fleur Jaeggy, trans. Tim Parks (Italian; Jaeggy is Swiss): Another all time favorite! The cold, sterile homoerotic girls' boarding school novella of your dreams.

4. Toddler-Hunting and Other Stories by Taeko Kono, trans. Lucy North (Japanese): I think I read this in one sitting. Incredibly unsettling—these stories will stay with you. They often focus on the unspoken psychosexual fantasies underscoring mundane daily life.

5. The Complete Stories by Clarice Lispector, trans. Katrina Dodson (Brazilian Portuguese): I think Lispector is the best known writer here, so she might not need much of an introduction. But what a legend! And this collection is so diverse—it's fascinating to see the evolution of Lispector's work.

6. Our Lady of the Nile by Scholastique Mukasonga, trans. Melanie L. Mauthner (French; Mukasonga is Rwandan): Give her the Nobel! Mukasonga's books, at least the ones available in English, are generally quite short but so impactful. Our Lady of the Nile is a collection of interrelated short stories set at a Catholic girls' boarding school in Rwanda in the years before the Rwandan genocide. These stories are fascinating on many levels, but perhaps the most haunting element is seeing how ethnic hatred intensifies over time—none of these girls would consider themselves particularly hateful or prejudiced, but they easily justify atrocities in the end.

7. Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962-1972 by Alejandra Pizarnik, trans. Yvette Siegert (Spanish; Pizarnik was Argentinian): Does anyone remember when my url was @/pizarnikpdf... probably not but worth mentioning to emphasize how much I love her <3 Reading Pizarnik is so revelatory for me; she articulates things I didn't even realize I felt until I read her words.

8. Flight and Metamorphosis: Poems by Nelly Sachs, trans. Joshua Weiner (German): Sachs actually won the Nobel in the 1960s, so it's surprising that she's not better known in the Anglosphere. Her poems are cryptic and surreal, yet deeply evocative. Worth mentioning that this volume is bilingual, so you can read the original German too if you're interested.

9. Frontier by Can Xue, trans. Karen Gernant and Chen Zeping (Chinese): Can Xue is another difficult-to-classify writer in terms of genre. Her short stories are often very abstract and can be puzzling at first. I think Frontier is a great place to start with her because these stories are interconnected, which makes them a bit more accessible.

#literature #women in translation #world literature #reading list #book recommendations #resources

82 notes · View notes

drewharrisonwriter · 4 months ago

Text

Friends Without Benefits

Status: One Shot, Complete

Summary: Even if you don't believe it, Dieter Bravo is actually capable of having platonic friendships.

Word Count: 10.5k words

Warnings: strong language, heavy flirtation, sexual tension (no smut--can you believe it??), mentions of past affairs and scandals, alcohol consumption, references to Dieter’s reckless behavior, mentions of drug use, emotional vulnerability, humor, inappropriate jokes (because, Dieter!), legal contract about not fucking

A/N: Okay, I know what you're thinking… another Dieter fic? Yeah, I know—it’s like my fourth one, so clearly, the brain rot is real, and I’m trying to get it out of my system (seriously, I’m trying… sort of). I know I haven’t updated Lifeline in a hot minute, but we’ll get to that later, lol. This fic is a little different from the usual—there’s a lot more fluff and friendship stuff, but I really enjoyed playing with the dynamic of two people who could totally cross the line but decide not to (because, honestly, it’s working for them as is). Also, apologies for any typos—I tried proofreading, but doing it on my phone isn’t exactly ideal. Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think!

P.S. My laptop, which served me well for 5 years, just gave out. With grad school, the recent loss of my stepdad, and ongoing medical bills, finances are tight. I’m currently managing writing commissions and my dissertation from my phone, which is okay but really challenging. If you can help with a donation or by commissioning some of my writing, or just by simply commenting or reblogging, it would mean the world to me. 💜 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any support you can offer. 💜🙏🏻

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

It started with a rejection email.

Not the kind that offered hope for future opportunities, but the type that crushed your spirit in one curt sentence:

"We regret to inform you that your application for the Screenwriting Development Program has not been accepted."

She read it over twice, then a third time, hoping something had been missed. A reason, some constructive feedback, anything. But it was just a copy-paste response sent to dozens—maybe hundreds—of other hopefuls like her. She blinked away the sting in her eyes and put the laptop to sleep.

The screen faded to black, reflecting back an image she barely recognized anymore: tangled hair, circles under her eyes, and the lingering trace of a smile she hadn’t used in days.

“Whatever,” she muttered to herself. “I didn’t need it anyway.”

That was a lie.

The Screenwriting Development Program was her shot, her dream, the chance to step out of her day-to-day grind and into the world she’d always wanted. A world where she wrote stories that people would actually care to hear.

But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. In fifteen minutes, she had to be at the diner. She grabbed her apron off the back of a chair and stuffed it into her bag before heading out.

As usual, the shift was long. And slow. She spent most of her time refilling coffee for the regulars and plastering on a smile that barely reached her eyes. The rejection lingered like a dark cloud, reminding her how close she was to giving up completely. By the time her shift ended, she was so exhausted that she didn’t even change out of her uniform. She just grabbed her bag and headed out into the night.

The long walk up to her apartment felt heavier than usual. It wasn’t until she reached her front door that the next wave of despair hit her like a punch to the gut.

An eviction notice.

She stared at the paper taped to her door, her heart sinking.

“Great,” she whispered bitterly, ripping it off and crumpling it into a ball before shoving it into her bag.

Four weeks. She had four weeks to come up with the rent, or she’d be out on the street.

Later, she sat on her couch in her underwear and a camisole, trying to ignore the cold chill of the eviction notice that still hovered at the edge of her mind. The TV buzzed in the background, Dieter Bravo’s voice filling the small apartment with a familiar rasp. A half-eaten carton of ice cream sat beside her, its contents softening to a puddle as she mindlessly scooped the melting mess.

Hunger Strike was playing again. She’d lost count of how many times she’d watched it by now. Dieter’s performance was the kind that stuck with you, the kind that won awards. It wasn’t just a movie anymore; it was the movie that had put him on the map—had made him a star and earned him that Oscar. She didn’t care if everyone else had moved on to the next blockbuster; for her, Hunger Strike was it. Every look in his eyes, every rasp of desperation in his voice felt real, almost too real. It was like he wasn’t acting at all.

"We don’t need them. They need us!" His character was yelling now, his voice hoarse, raw with intensity. She could practically feel his pain, his determination radiating through the screen.

She wiped at her eyes, even though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was everything—her life, the rejection, the eviction notice looming like a ticking time bomb. Or maybe it was just Dieter. Watching him made her feel seen, like somehow, through all the chaos, someone else understood what it was like to be on the edge.

The credits rolled on Hunger Strike, but instead of turning off the TV, she did what any fan would—she went down the rabbit hole. The screen filled with suggested videos, interviews, and, of course, the latest tabloid scandals. Dieter Bravo was all over the place lately. She had seen the headlines—everyone had. It was impossible to ignore him, even if you tried.

She grabbed her phone and scrolled through Twitter, where his name was trending yet again.

"Dieter Bravo's Latest Scandal: Sex Tape with Male Assistant Exposed!"

"Gender Identity Crisis or Another Stunt? Dieter Bravo Caught in Love Triangle with Married PA!"

"Oscar-Winning Actor, Homewrecker? Dieter Bravo Linked to Personal Assistant's Broken Marriage!"

She exhaled sharply, half-amused, half in disbelief. Every few months, it seemed, something like this would pop up—another scandal, another explosion in the media circus surrounding him. But this one? A sex tape? With his male personal assistant, who was married to a woman?

It was outrageous. It was chaotic. It was exactly what you'd expect from Dieter Bravo.

How does one even make this shit up? she thought, as she tapped one of the articles. The details were just as wild as the headlines. Apparently, the PA was a guy named James, and he’d been with Dieter for years—right up until last week, when everything blew up.

An article excerpt says: "Sources say that the sex tape in question was filmed during a drug-fueled party at Dieter’s mansion. It shows intimate moments between the actor and his assistant, James, who is reportedly married to a woman. James has since left Dieter’s employment amid the scandal, and insiders claim the actor is ‘unapologetic’ about the affair. This is just the latest in a long string of public meltdowns for the once-revered actor. Dieter Bravo’s chaotic lifestyle has led many to question his mental stability and even his gender identity, as he continues to defy traditional labels."

She snorted, shaking her head. “Unapologetic? That sounds about right.”

It wasn’t that she supported his reckless behavior, but there was something about Dieter that always seemed to push boundaries in every direction. He lived like a car crash happening in slow motion, and yet, people couldn’t look away. The scandals, the chaos—they were just part of his public persona. But there was more to him than that.

She clicked on an older interview from the Cliff Beasts 6 press tour. That was the movie where everything started to unravel for him. The film was supposed to be a big comeback, but instead, it had exposed the man behind the Oscar-winning actor—drugs, sex, alcohol, and a level of unpredictability that no one in Hollywood could quite handle.

Interviewer: “Dieter, after your incredible performance in Hunger Strike, people expected another award-winning role in Cliff Beasts 6, but... that’s not what happened. Can you talk about what went wrong?”

Dieter Bravo (slouching, visibly tired): “Cliff Beasts 6... yeah, man, that was a mess. But, like, it was supposed to be a mess, wasn’t it? I mean, we were trapped in that goddamn bubble for months longer than planned, and by the end, it wasn’t even a movie anymore. It was survival.” He laughed, a rough, bitter sound. “I overdosed on camera, for fuck’s sake. People thought it was part of the documentary. Maybe it should’ve been.”

Interviewer: “So, the extended shoot during the pandemic—did that affect the film’s outcome?”

Dieter (rubbing his temples, shaking his head): “Affect it? It was the outcome. By the time we got to month six, no one gave a shit about the movie anymore. It was just about getting out of there alive. People wanted me to deliver some award-winning performance? Dude, I was barely holding it together. I mean, look at the film—Cliff Beasts was never about art. By the sixth one, it was just... noise. Star-studded, CGI-filled noise. People expected something big, but I gave them a disaster. Maybe that’s what it needed to be.”

Interviewer: “The overdose incident—was that something planned for the documentary, or did things just... get out of control?”

Dieter Bravo (smirking, then shrugging): “Planned? Nah, man, nothing was planned by then. I mean, the cameras were always rolling, right? So when I went down... they just kept filming. Thought it’d make for good behind-the-scenes footage or something. But that’s Hollywood for you.” He paused, letting the weight of it sink in before adding, “People don’t care if you’re falling apart. They just want to know if it’ll sell.”

Interviewer: “That’s pretty heavy. Do you think Cliff Beasts 6 was the start of your... well, decline? It’s no secret you’ve had a rough few years since.”

Dieter Bravo (lighting a cigarette, ignoring the studio's no-smoking policy): “Decline? Maybe. I dunno. I think people were already looking for a reason to tear me apart. Cliff Beasts just made it easier. It wasn’t the overdose that got people talking, it was the fact that it happened while I was making a movie no one cared about anymore. The sixth installment, man. By that point, the franchise was running on fumes, and so was I. But people love a good downfall, right? They see someone on top, and they wait for you to crash. They’ll stick a camera in your face and call it a documentary when really, it’s just a freak show.”

She paused the video, the cigarette smoke still curling from Dieter’s lips frozen on the screen. The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. It was no wonder the media loved to tear him apart; they were practically fed the narrative on a silver platter. His whole life had become the entertainment industry’s favorite sideshow.

She stared at the screen for a few more moments, Dieter’s face frozen in that half-smirk, half-exhausted expression. He was unraveling, and everyone was watching. Cliff Beasts 6 might have been the breaking point, but it wasn’t the cause. No, Dieter had been falling apart long before that.

In a different world, she imagined, she and Dieter could be friends. He’d probably laugh at the mess she just made, tell her not to sweat it. In another life, maybe they’d meet over coffee or work on some crazy indie project together. They’d both be swimming in their own chaos, but maybe that’s what would make their friendship work.

She wasn’t delusional; she knew Dieter Bravo was a celebrity—someone she would probably never meet, never know beyond the screen. But sometimes, when he said things like that, it felt like he was speaking directly to her. Like maybe, in some other life, they’d get along. They’d get each other.

Her eyes drifted down to the eviction notice sitting on the coffee table. Four weeks, it said. Four weeks to come up with the rent, or she’d be out on the street. It was hard to feel hopeful when every option felt like a dead end. And yet, watching Dieter talk about his own collapse, she didn’t feel so alone.

Her phone buzzed on the cushion beside her.

She ignored it at first, assuming it was just another bill reminder. But when she glanced at the screen, her breath caught.

Studio Callback - Screenwriting Internship.

Her heart stopped. A callback? After all this time?

Without thinking, she sat up too fast, the ice cream carton tipping over the edge of the couch and spilling melted chocolate onto the floor. “Shit!” she cursed, grabbing a towel and wiping at the sticky mess with quick, frustrated swipes.

It felt surreal. She had applied for that screenwriting internship months ago and had long since written it off as a missed opportunity. But here it was—another chance.

She stood there, towel in one hand, her phone in the other, staring at the message like it might disappear if she blinked. Four weeks until eviction, a job that barely covered her bills, and now, out of nowhere, this lifeline.

Her eyes flicked back to the TV, where Dieter’s face still stared back at her.

She picked up her phone and, without hesitating, replied to the message. Yes. I’ll be there.

–

The next day…

The waiting room buzzed with the same dreary energy it had since she’d arrived nearly an hour ago. Grey walls, uncomfortable chairs, and that humming fluorescent light that seemed to buzz directly into her brain. She sat on the edge of her seat, fingers tracing the spine of her portfolio, glancing at the door every time it swung open.

But this time, it wasn’t her turn.

It was him.

Dieter Bravo stormed into the room like a hurricane, sunglasses still perched on his face even though the room was dim, his hair a chaotic mess, like he’d just rolled out of bed—or maybe stumbled out of a party. His team trailed behind him, all looking frazzled and overworked. He barely acknowledged them as he flopped into a chair across from her with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“Well, this is bullshit,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “I’m a goddamn Oscar winner, and they’ve got me sitting in this dump of a waiting room like I’m some extra on a low-budget indie film.”

She bit her lip, trying to hide her amusement. She knew who Dieter Bravo was the second he’d walked in—who didn’t? His face had been plastered on every tabloid for weeks. But there was something surreal about seeing him up close, in the flesh, like he’d been plucked straight from her TV screen. Don’t freak out, she told herself. He’s just a person.

Still, the excitement bubbled up inside her, and for a moment, she just stared at him, feeling the shock wear off.

He caught her staring. “What? You think this is funny?”

She blinked, pulling herself together, giving him a deadpan look. “I think you’re acting like someone who’s forgotten what a waiting room is.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to be offended or intrigued. “And you are?”

She shrugged. “Someone who’s been sitting here for an hour. Pretty sure I’m about to merge with this chair if they don’t call me soon.”

Dieter snorted, sitting up a little straighter, like he wasn’t used to people talking to him like that. Not outside his circle, at least. “An hour, huh? That’s it? Try six months trapped in a COVID bubble filming Cliff Beasts 6. That’s real torture.”

She laughed softly. “Yeah, I saw that movie. Pretty sure it was a crime against humanity.”

He cracked a grin. “Hey, that movie’s still paying my rent.”

“Is it? Seems like you should be able to afford better waiting rooms, then.”

Dieter leaned back in his chair, adjusting his sunglasses even though they weren’t needed. “Touché.”

There was a pause, a silence between them that felt more comfortable than awkward. They were sizing each other up, like two kids sitting next to each other on a school bus, deciding if they wanted to be friends.

“So,” Dieter said, shifting his gaze toward her again. “What are you here for? You in trouble, too?”

She smirked. “I’m always in trouble.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Yeah, well, me too.” He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking around the room as if just noticing how drab it was. “You work here or something?”

She shrugged. “Depends if they think I’m good enough to work here.”

“Good enough for what?”

“I’m a writer,” she said, half-smiling, but there was a vulnerability in her voice. “Or at least I’m trying to be.”

Dieter’s eyes lit up with genuine curiosity, which caught her off guard. “A writer, huh? You got anything out there I’ve seen?”

She snorted, shaking her head. “Only if you read stuff on Medium and Tumblr.”

Dieter laughed, the sound deep and unexpected, like he wasn’t used to laughing like that. “Tumblr, huh? So you’re a real writer.” He gave her a playful look. “What do you write? Fanfiction about guys like me?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a teasing glint in her gaze. “Nope. But if I did, it’d be better than that train wreck you called Cliff Beasts 6.”

Dieter clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch. Right in the ego.”

She smirked. “Ego as big as yours can take it.”

For a second, he just stared at her, genuinely caught off guard. He wasn’t used to people talking to him like this—like he was normal, not some Oscar-winning disaster wrapped in a scandal. She didn’t seem to care who he was or how many headlines he’d been in. It was refreshing, and he found himself more interested in her than he had been in anyone outside his usual crowd in a long time.

“So what do you do?” she asked casually, keeping the banter going.

Dieter laughed, a full, deep sound that made him look younger than he usually did in the tabloids. “What do I do? I’m a professional disaster. You haven’t heard?”

She chuckled, nodding toward the door. “I think you’re better at it than you are at acting.”

Dieter looked at her for a beat, his mouth twitching into a smirk. “You know, I don’t get a lot of people talking to me like this. Most people, they want to kiss ass or they just want something from me.”

She shrugged, her eyes flicking up to meet his. “What can I say? I’m not most people.”

He leaned forward, intrigued. “You like books?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What kind of books?”

“The kind that make people uncomfortable.”

Her lips twitched into a smile. “I see you’ve read Camus.”

He grinned. “The Stranger. Ever read it?”

“I did. Twice. Though I’m more of a Kafka fan.” She paused for a beat, her voice deadpan. “I like my existentialism served with a side of why is everything a nightmare and also I’m a bug.”

Dieter laughed again, clearly impressed. “You’re alright, you know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, her tone casual, but inside, she couldn’t quite believe she was having this conversation. With Dieter Bravo. Of all people.

They stared at each other, neither blinking, as if trying to see who’d crack first. But before either could say anything more, the door opened again.

“Mr. Bravo?” A frazzled assistant appeared in the doorway, eyes wide as they motioned for him to come in. “We’re ready for you.”

Dieter groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes as he stood up. “Finally.” He paused, turning to her with a smirk. “Don’t go anywhere, book lover. We’re not done with this conversation.”

She gave him a small smile, though inwardly she rolled her eyes. Yeah, sure. Like you'd remember me in two minutes, she thought. Dieter was famous for being distracted, for forgetting people as soon as he turned a corner. Everyone knew about his ADD—it was practically part of his public persona. He’d probably forget her name before the door even shut behind him.

Inside the meeting room…

Dieter slouched into a chair, his eyes flicking toward the group of studio executives sitting across from him, all with tight-lipped expressions. They weren’t here to chit-chat. They were here to clean up his mess. Again.

“Alright, what’s the damage?” Dieter asked, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair.

One of the executives, a tall man with silver hair and an expensive-looking suit, sighed heavily. “We’ve already settled with James and his wife. They’ve agreed not to divorce, but we’re paying for damages—and couples therapy.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow. “Couples therapy? Really?”

The man didn’t blink. “Yes, Dieter. Really.”

The room was thick with tension, the kind that only came when the stakes were sky-high. Another executive chimed in. “The headlines are out of control. We need to distance you from this. Fast.”

“What do you want me to do? Apologize? I already said I was sorry.” Dieter’s voice was tired, edged with sarcasm, but underneath, there was a flicker of frustration.

The silver-haired executive leaned forward. “Dieter, this isn’t about a simple apology. You’ve gone beyond that. Your lifestyle—this hedonistic, Roman emperor routine you’ve got going on—it’s not just damaging your reputation. It’s hurting us. The studio. The people you’re supposed to be representing.”

Dieter blinked, caught off guard by the harshness in the man’s tone.

“We’ve invested millions in you,” the executive continued, “and right now, you’re a liability. There’s talk of ending your contract early. Cutting ties before you bring the whole house down.”

Dieter’s jaw tightened. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” the man said coldly. “I’m not.”

For a moment, Dieter just sat there, staring at the man, trying to process what he was hearing. They were serious. He was this close to losing everything.

Another voice chimed in—his publicist, trying to smooth things over. “We’re not saying it’s over, Dieter. But we need to fix this. Charities. Positive press. You need to lay low for a while.”

The executive nodded. “No public appearances, no parties. We’re going to find some charity work for you, get the public to see a new side of you. You’re going to disappear for a bit. When you come back, you’ll be better. Clean. Understood?”

Dieter clenched his fists, the frustration boiling beneath the surface. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you need.”

“And we’ll get you a new PA,” his publicist added. “Someone who can keep you grounded. Keep you out of trouble, hopefully, someone you could not fuck.”

Dieter waved them off, already bored with the conversation. His mind drifted back to the waiting room, to the girl sitting across from him, trading quips like they were old friends. At least she’s interesting, he thought.

Back in the waiting room…

She sat there, slumped in her chair, staring blankly at the wall. The interview hadn’t gone well. She hadn’t gotten the job. The casting director had been polite but distant, and she could tell by their expression that they already had someone else in mind. Her stomach twisted with disappointment.

No extra job. No extra paycheck. And no way to make rent by the end of the month.

She stared down at her portfolio, feeling the weight of her failure settle in. She’d have to start packing soon. Maybe call her mom, tell her she was coming home. She could already imagine the conversation.

“We told you so,” her mom would say. “You should’ve gone into nursing. Writing was never going to pay the bills.”

Her stepdad would nod in agreement, disappointed but unsurprised. “Creative writing? Really?” he’d say. “What did you think would happen?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying not to think about it. But the thoughts kept coming, relentless. She’d have to pack up, move back home, admit defeat.

God, I’m such a screw-up.

The door creaked open, and Dieter stepped out, glancing around. His entourage had already disappeared down the hall, leaving him standing alone for once. He spotted her instantly.

“Still here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She forced a small smile, shrugging. “Didn’t get the job.”

Dieter nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, well... my meeting sucked too. They’ve decided I’m officially the next Caligula.”

She snorted. “That bad?”

“Worse,” he said, shaking his head. He stood there for a beat, looking around the room, then back at her. “You know what? Screw this. Let’s go grab a drink.”

She blinked, surprised. “What?”

“I’m serious,” Dieter said, eyes glinting with that familiar mix of mischief and exhaustion. “I need a drink. You’re funny. Let’s go.”

She stared at him, unsure if he was joking or not. But he wasn’t. She could see it in his eyes—he was serious.

“You buying?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dieter grinned. “I’m an Oscar winner. Drinks are always on me.”

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly stood up, tucking her portfolio under her arm. “Alright, Bravo. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

He smirked, leading the way. “Baby, you don’t know who you’re talking to.”

–

The black Audi’s engine purred as Dieter navigated the dim streets, his phone vibrating endlessly in the cupholder. Text after text, call after call—all from his team. They were probably losing their minds, wondering where he’d disappeared to. He glanced at the notifications, scoffing, and shoved the phone further out of reach.

“So,” she said, glancing at him from the passenger seat, “do you do this often?”

Dieter smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. “Do what?”

“Pick up random strangers and ask them to grab drinks with you.”

He laughed, the sound low and lazy. “No, I mean, I pick up random strangers... just not usually for drinks.”

She chuckled. “Well, you should probably get better at vetting your strangers. I could be a serial killer, you know.”

Dieter shot her a quick glance, grinning. “Even better. Might actually enjoy being murdered by you.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “You really are a disaster, aren’t you?”

“Disaster, masochist, artist... depends on the day.” He glanced over at her, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’ve got a hell of a sense of humor, though. I like it.”

“And here I thought you were the sadist for thinking being murdered sounds fun.”

“Nope.” Dieter grinned. “Definitely a masochist. But don’t let that scare you off.”

She smirked, leaning back in her seat. “Too late. I’m terrified now.”

They drove in comfortable silence for a while, the city lights flickering through the tinted windows, casting shadows on Dieter’s face. It felt surreal, sitting in the passenger seat of Dieter Bravo’s car, heading to God-knows-where. But she didn’t feel uneasy. In fact, she felt strangely comfortable. It was weird how easily they’d fallen into this rhythm, like they’d known each other for years.

“So,” she asked, breaking the silence, “where exactly are we getting these drinks?”

Dieter’s smirk grew as he pulled into a parking garage, winding his way up to the fifth floor. “Here.”

“Here?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Dieter parked the car, and without another word, led her to the elevator. When the doors slid open, she was met with the sleek interior of his penthouse. Glass walls, dark furniture, and a view of the city that stretched on forever.

“Oh,” she said, stepping inside, taking it all in. “I thought we were going to a bar or something.”

Dieter chuckled, locking the door behind them. “Yeah, well, I’ve been told not to be seen in public too much for a while. You know... the whole ‘clean up the image’ thing.”

She turned, leaning against the counter, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Right. The scandal.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, that.”

She tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes. “So, should I be worried now? You could be the serial killer. I didn’t tell anyone where I’m going.”

Dieter grinned, moving toward the bar in the corner of the room. “Well, if I am, at least you’ll die with a good drink in your hand.”

Dieter’s penthouse bar looked like it had been pulled straight out of a high-end hotel. Polished wood, rows of bottles perfectly lined up, and a set of cocktail tools that would make any bartender proud.

He moved behind the bar with a familiar ease, pulling out a few bottles and setting them on the counter. “What’s your poison?”

“Vodka, Negroni... surprise me.”

“You got it.” He started mixing, moving around the bar like he’d done it a thousand times. She followed suit, sliding behind the bar beside him, the space between them feeling natural.

As they worked, they fell into a rhythm, like two old friends who’d done this countless times before. It was easy, the way they passed bottles back and forth, the clink of ice in glasses punctuating their conversation.

“So,” she said, shaking her drink, “you always this smooth with your guests, or am I special?”

Dieter smirked. “You’re special. I don’t let just anyone behind the bar.” He watched her expertly pour out the drink, nodding in approval. “You’ve got skills.”

She chuckled. “I bartend. Well, I used to, now I just work at a diner, but it counts.”

He laughed. “I used to bartend, too. Before all this.” He gestured vaguely to his sprawling penthouse. “I kinda miss it.”

“Miss what? Making drinks for drunk people at 2 a.m.?”

He shook his head, grinning. “No, the simplicity of it. The quiet moments before the rush. And, I guess, the people. You get to talk to all kinds of weirdos.”

She handed him the cocktail she’d just mixed, and he took a sip, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Not bad. Actually, really good.”

She smiled, taking a sip of his creation in return. “Yours isn’t half bad either, weirdo.”

He snorted as he finished drinking, “Looks like we’ve both still got it.”

They clinked their glasses, a quiet laugh shared between them.

–

They moved to the couches near the window, drinks in hand, and the night outside stretched on in glittering silence. It was one of those rare moments when the city was alive, but they were in their own little world, insulated by glass and a few too many drinks.

She stretched out on the couch, swirling the last of her drink in the glass. “So, this is what it’s like, huh? Being Dieter Bravo. A penthouse with a killer view and a bar that puts most cocktail lounges to shame.”

Dieter leaned back, grinning. “You sound impressed.”

She tilted her head. “I mean, it’s nice. But I’m not that impressed.”

He snorted. “Figures. I’ve gotta work harder to impress you, huh?”

“You said it, not me.”

There was a beat of silence before he broke it. “So, what’s the story? Why’re you still working at a diner when you’re clearly way too smart for that?”

She shrugged, taking a sip. “You make it sound like I had a choice. You think I want to be a waitress?”

“No, but...” He trailed off, clearly thinking. “I don’t know. You strike me as someone who should be... doing more.”

She arched an eyebrow. “More, like what? Writing fanfiction for Cliff Beasts 7?”

Dieter laughed, the sound filling the space. “God, no. Please, spare me.”

She grinned. “It’s not for lack of trying. I just... haven’t found my place yet. It’s not as easy as, ‘Hey, I’m talented, someone notice me.’” She shook her head, her voice growing quieter. “It’s a lot of failing. Mostly failing.”

Dieter nodded, leaning back in his seat, his expression more serious now. “I get that.”

“Do you?” she asked, her voice softer but still edged with sarcasm. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re pretty damn successful.”

Dieter looked at her, really looked at her this time. “You think success means you stop failing?”

She didn’t answer, watching him with curiosity.

He set his drink down and ran a hand through his hair. “You fail more when you’re successful. Trust me. People are just waiting for you to screw up. And when you do... they’re there to watch you burn.”

“You’re talking about the scandal.”

He nodded, taking another sip. “It’s not just the scandal. It’s everything. There’s always someone out there with a camera, waiting for you to mess up. They don’t care about what you do right. Just the crash.”

“So you’re saying you’re a slow-motion car crash?” she asked, her tone dry.

He smirked, nodding. “Exactly. A car crash people pay to watch.”

She stared at him for a moment, her mind working through his words. “That’s... kind of tragic.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, his grin fading. “It is, isn’t it?”

They both went quiet, the weight of his words settling between them. But then she leaned forward, her eyes narrowing playfully. “You ever think about, I don’t know... getting out of the car? Stopping the crash?”

He barked a laugh, shaking his head. “And do what? Go back to bartending? Give up the Oscar for a shaker and ice?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, her voice light but serious underneath. “Or maybe just... do something real. Something that’s not about everyone else’s expectations.”

Dieter looked at her for a long moment, something in his expression shifting, like he was seeing her in a new light. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

She nodded. “I do. Look, I might not be some hotshot writer, but I’ve always believed that what matters is the stuff that’s real. The art you make when no one’s watching. The stuff people don’t get to tear apart.”

“Yeah, but the problem is, everyone’s watching.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms. “So maybe that’s their problem.”

Dieter laughed, and this time it wasn’t the careless, guarded kind of laugh he usually gave. It was genuine. “You’ve got a point.”

“Of course I do. I’m always right.”

“Okay, Camus,” he teased, rolling his eyes. “You’re officially hired as my life coach.”

She leaned back, eyes glinting with mischief. “I don’t know if you could afford me.”

Dieter snorted, swirling his drink. “How expensive are you?” he asked, playful but intrigued.

She paused, pretending to consider it for a moment. “Depends… do you personally know Gérard Depardieu?”

Dieter grimaced, raising an eyebrow as he took another sip. “Gérard Depardieu?” He repeated, blinking in confusion.

She nodded, downing the rest of her drink in two big gulps, the alcohol warming her throat. “What? You don’t know him?”

“I mean, I do, but wow...” He let out a low whistle, shaking his head with a chuckle. “That’s a... pretty weird choice.”

“Well, what can I say? I like them like that.” She shrugged, her expression completely serious as she set her glass down.

Dieter threw his head back, laughing harder than he had all night. It was loud, unfiltered, and completely genuine, the kind of laugh that came when he wasn’t performing for anyone.

“You’re a trip, you know that?” he said, still grinning as he wiped at his eyes. “Gérard Depardieu. Damn. Haven’t thought about that guy in years.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What, are you saying you don’t have weird celebrity crushes?”

He tilted his head, considering the question for a second. “I mean... I am the weird celebrity crush.”

She rolled her eyes, but a smirk tugged at her lips. “How humble of you.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “You should hear the shit people say about me online. I’ve been everything from someone’s ‘gay awakening’ to someone’s inappropriate uncle.”

She snorted into her drink, barely containing her laughter. “Jesus. People are wild.”

Dieter smirked, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So, c’mon. Who else you got? Who’s on your weird celebrity crush list? Lay it on me.”

She took a slow sip of her drink, savoring the moment, then said with a completely straight face, “Willem Dafoe.”

Dieter almost choked on his drink, eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at her like she’d just told him she was into cryptids. “Dafoe? Willem Dafoe?”

“Yeah,” she said, completely deadpan. “What’s wrong with Dafoe?”

He blinked, still recovering from nearly spitting his drink out. “I mean, nothing’s wrong with him, but... wow, that’s... unexpected.”

She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “I already shocked you with Depardieu. What were you expecting? Besides, Dafoe... he’s got range.” She gave him a wicked grin and added, “Plus, you know he’s freaky in bed.”

Dieter let out a loud bark of laughter, nearly doubling over. “Holy shit... you’re a freak. A true freak.”

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Oh no, it’s definitely not a bad thing,” he said, still chuckling as he reached over to refill her glass. “I’ve met some freaks in my time, but this? This is different. I like it.”

She eyed the freshly poured drink, tilting her head. “Not sure if I should feel good about that comment.”

Dieter grinned, clinking his glass against hers. “You should. Trust me.”

They both chuckled, the easy, playful energy between them lightening the mood even more. But then Dieter leaned back, giving her an amused look. “You know, I actually know Willem.”

Her eyes widened, her curiosity piqued. “No way. You know him?”

Dieter nodded, taking a slow sip. “Yeah. Great guy. Not as intense as his characters would make you think. Really down to earth. Freaky in his own way, sure, but... I get it. I guess I see what you see in him.”

She smiled, leaning back. “Well, that’s comforting.”

Then she paused, glancing down at her drink before adding, “I actually met him once. Worked as an assistant on a theater production he starred in a couple of years ago.”

Dieter’s eyes lit up. “No way. Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” she said, nodding. “It was this small indie thing in New York. I wasn’t his assistant or anything, just part of the general crew, but I did get to work around him a bit. He’s... different, in a good way.”

Dieter leaned forward, intrigued. “Okay, now you’ve really got my attention. You’ve done PA work before?”

She shook her head, swirling the ice in her glass. “Not really. That was more of a part-time gig while I was in school. I applied for a real PA job a few years back, but it didn’t exactly go well.”

Dieter’s brow furrowed. “What happened?”

She sighed, her smirk fading as she stared down at her drink. “Well, I got all the way through the interviews, and then the celebrity—someone old-school—told me I was too chubby to work for them. Said I wouldn’t look good in photographs.”

Dieter’s face immediately twisted into a mix of shock and disgust. “Wait, what? Are you kidding me?”

“Nope,” she said, the bitterness in her voice barely masked by the nonchalance she was trying to project. “I didn’t even bother applying for PA jobs after that. Figured it wasn’t worth the hassle.”

Dieter shook his head, clearly appalled. “That’s... Jesus. I mean, I get that people in this industry are eccentric as hell, but that’s way too much. Who the hell cares what you look like in photos? You’re supposed to be doing a job, not starring in the damn pictures.”

She shrugged, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, well, some people care. Guess I wasn’t the image they wanted.”

Dieter looked at her, his expression softening with empathy. “That’s seriously messed up. I’m sorry you went through that.”

She waved him off, smiling more genuinely this time. “It’s fine. Honestly, it was a while ago. I just stuck to writing and waitressing after that.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,” Dieter said, leaning forward, “that guy was a complete idiot. You’d make a damn good PA.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Thanks. But I think I’m done with that world.”

Dieter studied her for a moment, then raised his glass in a small toast. “Well, here’s to not being the kind of asshole who judges people by how they look in photos.”

She clinked her glass against his, smiling again. “I’ll drink to that.”

The conversation lingered in the air after their laughter died down, a comfortable silence settling over them. She leaned back against the couch, her gaze drifting to the massive windows overlooking the city, the skyline glittering like a distant dream.

“Gotta say,” she began, her voice soft but still playful, “this penthouse is... something else. It’s almost too perfect, though. Feels more like a set than a home.”

Dieter glanced around the room, smirking faintly. “Yeah, that’s because it’s not home.”

She raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “It’s not?”

He shook his head, swirling the last of his drink. “Nah. It’s just a place I own. I use it for... all the shit you probably hear about in the tabloids.”

She snorted, leaning in. “You mean the orgies and sex scandals?”

“Pretty much.” Dieter chuckled, but there was something more behind the laughter. His expression softened as he set the glass down on the table. “It’s not where I live. My real home is out in Sherman Oaks.”

She tilted her head, surprised. “Sherman Oaks?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “It’s an actual house. Big, built for a family, but too large for just me. I don’t bring anyone there. Not my... conquests, not my parties. Just me. I paint there, you know? I’ve got this studio in the back, and when the world gets too loud, that’s where I go. It’s the only place I feel... I don’t know, settled.”

Her eyes softened as she listened. She hadn’t expected this level of honesty from him, but the vulnerability in his voice was unmistakable. “That sounds... nice, actually. Quiet.”

“It is,” he agreed, his gaze distant, as if he could picture the house in his mind. “But the silence can get too loud sometimes. Especially now that I’m older. That’s when I come back here. The penthouse. To drown it out.”

She frowned slightly, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass. “The silence?”

Dieter nodded, exhaling softly. “Yeah. You wouldn’t think silence could be so damn loud, but it is. Especially when you’re used to everything being... chaotic.”

She didn’t respond immediately, just watched him, the weight of his words sinking in. There was a loneliness there, one that no amount of parties, conquests, or tabloid headlines could fill. It wasn’t just about being alone—it was about being seen. About finding a place where the chaos didn’t define him.

She took a breath, her tone gentle but sure. “You don’t strike me as someone who likes the noise. Not really.”

Dieter blinked, turning his gaze back to her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, people see the chaos, the headlines, the scandals. But I don’t think that’s really you.” She paused, her voice steady. “You’ve got a whole world inside you that no one bothers to look at. You’re not just the guy who parties and ends up in the tabloids. You’re more than that.”

His eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe, or recognition. He opened his mouth to say something, but she continued before he could.

“They don’t see the parts of you that matter. The parts that create, that make something out of all this mess. The fact that you’ve got a studio and you paint—that tells me a lot. You’re more than just an actor, Dieter. You’re an artist. And not because you say so, but because you are.”

For a moment, Dieter just stared at her, as if her words had landed somewhere deeper than he’d expected. She was looking at him like no one had in years. Not like a star, not like the scandalized mess the world saw. She saw him. The real him.

His throat tightened, and suddenly, the air felt heavier. “You really think that?”

“I know it,” she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. “You’re not just memorizing lines. You’re putting something into the world that most people don’t even take the time to understand. But that doesn’t mean it’s not real. It’s real, Dieter. And it matters.”

He blinked, the familiar burn of tears stinging behind his eyes. It was strange—he hadn’t felt this exposed in so long. The vulnerability, the rawness of being seen for more than just the surface.

A tear slipped down his cheek, slow and steady. He swiped at it quickly, but another followed. It wasn’t a sobbing mess, no dramatic breakdown. Just a quiet release, like the weight of everything he’d been carrying finally had somewhere to go.

“Damn,” he muttered, laughing softly through the tears. “You’re really messing me up here.”

She smiled, nudging him gently with her elbow. “You needed to hear it.”

He wiped his eyes, still grinning despite the tears. “Guess I did.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. The silence between them wasn’t heavy or awkward. It was comfortable, filled with an understanding that went deeper than words. In the quiet of the penthouse, with the city lights twinkling in the background, Dieter felt something he hadn’t in a long time.

Peace.

But of course, Dieter couldn’t let the moment just sit there. He leaned over slightly, raising an eyebrow as a mischievous grin spread across his face. “So... is this the part where we kiss?”

She burst out laughing, her head falling back as she clutched her sides. “Oh my God, Dieter, you’re such an ass.”

For the first time in a long time, Dieter didn’t feel even a twinge of offense at being laughed at. In fact, her reaction made him laugh, too—a deep, real laugh that didn’t feel performative. It was just them, laughing like idiots in the middle of a moment that could’ve been serious, but wasn’t.

He shrugged, grinning. “Hey, had to shoot my shot.”

She shook her head, still giggling as she nudged him. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me,” he teased.

“Debatable,” she shot back, smirking. “But that was not the move, Bravo.”

He threw his hands up in mock surrender, still laughing. “Alright, alright, no kiss. Got it.”

She rolled her eyes, the amusement still lingering in her expression. “Seriously, though. You’re an ass.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Dieter said, smirking. But beneath the joking, there was a warmth in his eyes, a softness that hadn’t been there before. He liked this—being around someone who could take his nonsense and throw it right back at him, without missing a beat.

–

They had been hanging out for days—Dieter laying low like his team had asked, and her finding herself more and more wrapped up in his world. It was easy with him. The lazy mornings that bled into afternoons, the spontaneous outings, the hours spent talking about nothing and everything. It was like living in a bubble, where the real world and all its mess didn’t exist.

But it couldn’t last forever.

They were lounging in his penthouse, another aimless afternoon with the TV buzzing in the background, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

“So,” Dieter began, his tone casual, but there was an edge of hesitation in it. “I’ve been thinking...”

She looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. That sounds dangerous.”

He chuckled, but there was a nervousness in his smile. “No, I mean... I’ve been thinking about you. Us, I guess.”

She frowned slightly, sitting up a bit straighter. “What do you mean?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze for a moment. “I think I... I really like you. And I want to stay friends, you know? If you’re cool with it.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Of course he liked her—they got along too well not to. But she knew what had to happen next.

She swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “I don’t think we can keep doing this.”

Dieter’s face fell, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Wait, what? Why not?”

“I can’t afford to stay in LA anymore,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I’m going home. To my mom’s and stepdad’s. The diner job just doesn’t cover rent or utilities, and figuring things out in this city isn’t really feasible for me right now.”

Dieter stared at her, the words slowly sinking in. His expression shifted from confusion to something deeper—sadness, maybe even panic. “You’re... leaving?”

She nodded, trying to keep it together. “Yeah. I’ve got no choice.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at her like she’d just ripped the floor out from under him. Then, true to form, Dieter went into full dramatic mode.

“Are you serious?” he groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Like, ever.”

She laughed, despite herself. “Dieter, stop.”

“No, seriously,” he continued, flopping onto the couch like a petulant child. “You’re leaving me to fend for myself in this godforsaken city, and for what? Your mom’s house in the middle of nowhere? This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

She rolled her eyes, amused but touched by how much this seemed to affect him. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Where’s your loyalty?” he muttered dramatically. “I thought we were in this together.”

She snorted. “I didn’t realize hanging out with you was a lifelong commitment.”

Dieter sat up suddenly, his eyes lighting up as if he’d just had the greatest idea of all time. “Wait a second...”

She eyed him warily. “What?”

“You still need a job, right?”

Her eyebrow arched. “...Yes?”

“I still need a PA,” he said, the excitement building in his voice. “My team hasn’t found anyone, and let’s face it—they’re probably going to stick me with some lifeless corporate robot.”

She blinked, not expecting this. “Wait, are you offering me a job?”

“Hell yes, I am,” he said, grinning like a kid with a new toy. “You’d be perfect. I mean, you know me. You get me. And you’re already here half the time anyway. Why not make it official?”

She hesitated, her mind racing. “I don’t know, Dieter. It feels like... I don’t know, like you’re just offering it because you feel bad.”

He shook his head, his expression softening. “No, I’m offering it because I need you. And not in a weird way, okay? I mean, yeah, it’s a job, but it’s also more than that. I trust you. And I don’t trust a lot of people.”

She bit her lip, still uncertain. “Yeah, but it comes with a paycheck, right? That’s gonna make me feel... really dirty.”

Dieter laughed, leaning back into the couch. “Oh, come on. It’s a legit offer. And I’m paying you well, so you’ll get used to feeling dirty real quick.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“Seriously,” he continued, his tone softening again. “Think about it. It’s not charity. It’s not a handout. I really need your company, and I think you need this too.”

She exhaled, staring at him for a moment. “I’ll... think about it.”

A few days later, she was back at the penthouse, this time with Dieter’s manager, his lawyer, and Dieter himself, all sitting around the sleek kitchen island. It felt surreal.

The manager went over the details of the contract, but it was hard to focus on the specifics when her mind was spinning with how fast everything was happening.

“And, of course,” the manager added sternly, “we have to include the no-fucking clause. If you two get involved, it’s not only grounds for termination but also blacklisting.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, looking slightly offended. “Seriously? That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

She snorted, waving it off. “It’s fine, Bravo. I don’t think you’d want to fuck me anyway.”

He frowned, almost hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The manager chuckled, shaking his head. “He fucks anything that moves.”

She furrowed her brows briefly, her face showing a flash of disgust at the comment, but she kept her mouth shut. This wasn’t the time to start an argument with his team. Still, she couldn’t shake the sour taste the comment left in her mouth.

Dieter noticed her reaction and shot his manager a look, but the moment passed quickly as the lawyer handed her the contract to sign.

Once the papers were signed, it was official. She was now Dieter Bravo’s new assistant.

After the contract signing, they were back in the quiet of the penthouse. She stretched her arms out, feeling a mixture of excitement and disbelief at the day’s events. Dieter leaned against the counter, still processing it all too, and for a moment, the two of them just stood there in silence.

Then she clapped her hands together, breaking the moment. “Okay, Bravo, I’m treating you to dinner.”

Dieter blinked, confusion crossing his face. “Wait, what? You’re treating me?”

She grinned, nodding. “Yeah, to celebrate. You know, new job and all.”

He hesitated, raising an eyebrow. “You just signed a contract. You shouldn’t be spending money on me.”

She waved him off, rolling her eyes. “Take a chill pill. I just landed a sick new job with a really dirty paycheck. I’m excited, let me have this.”

Dieter chuckled, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “I’ve taken way too many pills in my life. Not sure I remember which one the chill pill is.”

She burst out laughing, grabbing her jacket. “Well, then this will be the antidote. C’mon, we’re getting Five Guys.”

Dieter’s grin grew wider, his eyes lighting up. “Damn, baby, you know I can’t say no to Five Guys.”

She shot him a smirk. “Then let’s go.”

They drove in Dieter’s car, windows heavily tinted, cruising through the LA streets as the sun dipped below the skyline. They grabbed their order from the drive-thru window and found an empty parking lot, parking under the dim glow of a streetlight.

Dieter reclined his seat all the way back, pushing the front seats to give them more space to lounge. She did the same, their legs stretched out as they unwrapped their burgers.

“So,” he mumbled around a mouthful of fries, “what now?”

She shrugged, her voice muffled as she stuffed more fries into her mouth. “Idunno.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a moment, the radio playing softly in the background, the quiet hum of the city far off in the distance.

Dieter glanced at her sideways, studying her face. “You seem a little... off.”

She paused mid-chew, looking at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, biting into his burger. “I dunno. Just felt like something’s been bugging you since we left the penthouse.”

She exhaled, setting her burger down, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Well... your manager pissed me off. Big time.”

Dieter stopped chewing, his eyes widening a little. “What? Why?”

“That comment he made,” she said, rolling her eyes, “about you humping everything that moves. It was gross. And unnecessary.”

Dieter’s face reddened, the blush creeping up his neck as he rubbed at it, a little embarrassed. “Yeah, uh... that’s just how he is.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “That doesn’t make it okay.”

He chuckled awkwardly, setting his burger down. “I mean, he wasn’t wrong. You’ve heard the stories, read the articles, right?”

She stared at him for a beat, then sighed. She knew he wasn’t trying to defend his manager, and in a way, she found that endearing—his loyalty to people even after everything they’d said about him. All the rumors, the scandals, the affairs. But she tucked that thought away for another time.

“That’s not the point,” she said, shaking her head. “As someone who works with you, the first thing your manager should be doing is protecting you—even from your own team.”

Dieter blinked, her words hitting harder than he expected. He felt something crack open in his chest. She wasn’t wrong. And hearing her say it so plainly made him realize just how much he’d let slide because of loyalty. Because of fear.

He smiled softly, biting into his burger, his voice quiet. “Thanks for saying that.”

She shrugged, offering him a small smile in return. “It’s true.”

Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she leaned over, wiggling her eyebrows. “Besides, you haven’t tried to fuck me yet, so I don’t think what your manager said was true.”

Dieter choked on his soda, laughing and coughing at the same time. “Jesus Christ,” he wheezed, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

She grinned, leaning back into her seat. “What? Am I not fuckable enough for Dieter Bravo?”

He immediately shook his head, his voice firm. “No, baby–you’re...fuck– you’re hot. Like, really hot. And I’m an idiot for not jumping you the second I met you.”

She snorted, clearly amused. “But?”

Dieter sighed, running a hand through his hair, his voice quieter but more grounded now. “Look, if we hadn’t had that first conversation, that night in the waiting room... I probably would’ve tried to sleep with you.”

She gasped dramatically, her eyes widening in mock horror. “Excuse me? What made you think I’d even want to sleep with you?”

Dieter burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Oh, c’mon, I’ve got ways. If I really wanted to, I could have charmed you into it.”

She snorted, shoving another fry into her mouth. “Yeah, right. You can’t charm your way into everyone’s bed, Bravo.”

Dieter stared at her, deadpan, raising an eyebrow. “Uh... yes, I can.”

They both broke into laughter, the moment light but laced with a shared understanding. Once their laughter died down, he leaned back, the humor fading slightly as he spoke again, this time more serious.

“But seriously,” he continued, his voice softer now, “I didn’t want to cross that line with you. Because... you’re different.”

She glanced at him, curious now, the playful energy between them simmering down as he opened up.

“I’m a messy person,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the steering wheel, fingers idly tracing the edges. “In every sense of the word. My life, my relationships—they don’t end well. And I’ve ruined... too many things that mattered. I can’t ruin this. I won’t.”

She tilted her head, watching him closely. “Why do you think it would ruin things?”

He took a deep breath, the vulnerability flickering in his eyes as he finally met her gaze. “Because when I sleep with someone, I lose track of... what’s real and what’s not. It always starts out fine, but I mess things up. I make it complicated, and then it all falls apart. And I don’t want that to happen with you.”

She studied him for a moment, seeing the weight behind his words, the sincerity he rarely showed to anyone. This wasn’t the over-the-top, scandal-filled Dieter Bravo the world knew. This was a man who was genuinely afraid of ruining something good.

“Wow,” she muttered, trying to break the heaviness. “So you’re saying I was basically a goner if we hadn’t talked that first night?”

He chuckled, giving her a teasing grin. “Oh, absolutely.”

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You really are full of yourself.”

“No, I’m just honest,” he said with a playful smirk. “But really, I don’t want to just fuck this up. You get me, more than anyone has in a long time. And I don’t want to lose that because I was... impulsive.”

She looked at him for a long moment, their earlier banter giving way to something deeper. It was clear that he meant every word, and it made sense in a way she hadn’t expected. Dieter Bravo might have been a disaster in relationships, but he was choosing not to be a disaster with her. And that meant something.

“Well,” she said, her smile returning as she reached for another fry, “that’s good to know. I mean, you’re still a complete disaster, but you’re my kind of disaster.”

Dieter’s grin widened, the tension finally easing as he leaned back in his seat. “I’ll take it.”

She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then added with a smirk, “Besides, now I’m legally being paid to not fuck you.”

He laughed, throwing his head back in genuine amusement. “And I’m legally paying you to not fuck me.”

She nodded sagely. “Sounds like a pretty sweet deal if you ask me.”

Dieter chuckled, the heaviness of the earlier conversation replaced by their usual playful energy. “Yeah, it’s working out pretty well so far.”

They both sat there, comfortable in the aftermath of the conversation, knowing that while the chemistry between them was undeniable, the friendship was what mattered most. And neither of them was willing to risk it, even if they joked about it.

They sat in the car, the remnants of their Five Guys feast scattered on the console between them. The night had slipped into a comfortable quiet, the kind that came from hours of laughter, honest conversation, and greasy burgers. Dieter stretched, glancing over at her with a lazy grin.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked, wiping his hands on a napkin. “You heading home now?”

She nodded, finishing the last of her fries. “Yeah. Gotta pack up my stuff and get ready for the big move.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Right. Moving in with me. Never thought I’d reach this point in my life where a woman’s moving in with me... and I legally can’t fuck her.”

She snorted, shaking her head as she leaned back into her seat. “Welcome to adulthood, Bravo. Full of responsibilities and boundaries.”

Dieter’s grin widened, leaning a little closer. “So, about this moving in thing—are you planning on, like, wearing layers of clothing at all times? Because I don’t need to make this harder for myself than it already is.”

She shot him a look, deadpan. “Harder for yourself?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know what I mean.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face. “Listen, I promise to be fully covered in the ugliest, most unflattering pajamas you’ve ever seen. Think, like, thermal underwear, oversized sweaters, maybe a balaclava if I’m feeling extra considerate.”

Dieter threw his head back laughing, slapping the dashboard. “Jesus Christ, I don’t know if I should be grateful or terrified.”

“Both,” she said with a smirk, grabbing the last fry from the bag and popping it into her mouth.

Dieter leaned back, sighing contentedly. “I still can’t believe it though. I’m actually gonna live with a woman. And she’s not some wild fling, but an assistant I’m paying not to fuck. Talk about a plot twist.”

She laughed, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Well, you better get used to it. I’ll be back in the morning with all my crap.”

Dieter grinned, clearly amused by the whole situation. “Promise?”

“Promise,” she said, flashing him a smile. “Bright and early. So you better get your beauty sleep.”

He chuckled, looking at her fondly. “I’ll try.”

She reached for the door handle, pausing for a moment before looking back at him, her tone soft but teasing. “Try not to miss me too much tonight, alright?”

Dieter winked. “No promises.”

She stepped out of the car, waving as she walked toward her building. “See you tomorrow, Bravo.”

He watched her go, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah,” he muttered under his breath, leaning back into the seat. “See you tomorrow.”

61 notes · View notes

nothingbutnowhere · 8 months ago

Text

A Simon x reader blurb

Notes: Reader refered to as 'girl' once, mentions of anxiety/hypervigilant symptoms

Edit for typos I wrote this at like 1 am on my phone lol apologies

Your phone was always on silent. No ringtone, no vibration, not even alarms, you had an alarm clock for that, one of the fancy light ones that gradually brightened and played birdsong as the alarm. Given your sensitive startle reflex it made sense to Simon. And it's not like you often missed his calls or texts when he was away. No matter to him.

"Where was that new place you wanted to eat?" you asked from the kitchen, "Kinda out of food right now."

Simon had come home earlier than expected and left you with no time to prepare after a busy week. And considering you'd spent the afternoon and most of the evening rolling around in bed neither of you wanted to cook anyway.

The idea of going out was so much less stressful when Simon was with you. The fear of being perceived, and the fear of the nebulous 'something bad' made exiting your home a no go about 50% of the time. Simon had everything covered though. He could and would handle anything 'bad' and his glare was enough to send wandering eyes away. And seeing Simon straight up not give a fuck helped your thought patterns more than CBT ever did.

"I'll send it"

A few moments later there's a loud notification sound and buzz. Simon nearly jumps, head whipping towards the noise.

He starts to say something but when he sees you with your phone clutched to your chest, familiar red face like you've got caught with your hand in the cookie jar he closes his mouth and waits for the stammered explanation.

"I- it's- um. I have it set for you. When you're gone, guess I forgot to turn it off. It's just so, you know, I don't miss you. I mean miss your calls. I always miss you."

You give him half a smile and it twists Simon's heart, or what's left of it.

He stands and approaches you. Something that most people run away from, but your eyes only get softer and shoulders sag as you melt into his arms. It took time but you broke though his hard shell only to find a teddy bear inside.

"Sweet girl," he murmurs into your forehead before pressing his lips to your skin.

"Handsome boy," you say back, hands gripping the front of his shirt.

"Doin' all that for me? Guess I must be then."

"Mmhm. My handsome boy."

It makes Simon smile when you get possessive over him.

"My sweet girl."

And it makes you hot when he's possessive over you.

You groan.

"Don't start that again or we'll be eating 3am pizza. Or plain spaghetti noodles."

"It's just the truth love."

You break the embrace.

"Well your sweet girl wants dinner," you say with a winning smile.

You tilt your head up and stand on your tiptoes, a silent ask for a kiss.

He swoops in dutifully, but it's only a passing brush.

Asking for kisses is a dangerous game, there's more than one reason your man wears a mask (it's the oral fixation).

You look playfully disappointed but he only gives you his deadpan expression.

You huff and follow him to the door.

Once your shoes are on he does indulge you in another kiss. Deeper this time. Lingering. You give Simon a nip on his bottom lip, something to ache a little bit during dinner while you can't have your lips on him. He smiles, nearly giggles, and gives you a matching one.

A/N: I'm a little rusty, haven't written in a hot sec, but this just kinda plopped into my head. And I have a few other ideas for this soft!simon and anxiety/PTSD/hypervigilant!reader, so maybe I'll continue

...

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

#x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #hypervigilant!reader #my writing #original post

91 notes · View notes

monfivela · 4 months ago

Text

*waves shyly* So, this is my first Five X Lila story. Please, take care of me 🙇🏻‍♀️

☂️🚆🍓 Love, and other things that won’t stay buried

Summary: Five didn’t kiss Lila in the strawberry greenhouse that day. But it doesn’t mean he won’t another day.

Hey guys,

This is my modest contribution to the wonderful people of the FiveLila community. To the many amaaaazing writers and artists, its thoughtful members and incredible supporters 💜

You’ve brought me back to fanfictions. To tumblr. To ao3.

You’ve fueled my obsession with this ship for the past month and a half—you’ve played with my heartstrings, sometimes making it ache even more, and other times spreading healing balm on my broken heart.

Gosh, I feel like a girl in love—living in a daze, listening to love and break up songs, feeling hot and dizzy, and constantly checking my phone for updates of the community... so, here’s a small token of love to all of you.

I hope you’ll enjoy this piece as much as it kept me obsessed day in, day out, trying to find the right words, and make sense of the one scene that started the whole story.

It’s been a years— more than a decade even—since I last wrote anything. Much less in English. So, I apologize in advance for any typos, grammatical errors or weird wordling and phrasing.

These are the first two chapters. I'm still trying to wrap things up, so I figured, I'll post the first part to test the waters with you all 🙏

I’d love any feedback to know if I should train or warm up a bit more before our little appreciation week in October. I have some ideas, but I needed to get this one out first. 💜

Merci 😊

#fivela #five x lila #fivelila #five and lila #lila x five #fanfic

39 notes · View notes

eyeritestuff · 10 months ago

Text

“I’m home.”

——

Tom (Eddsworld) x Reader [FUTURE AU]

Characters: Tom

Warnings: none,, just sad or whateva (send help)

Author’s note: don’t ask where i got inspo… short bc erm yah :3 i didn’t check for typos so oopsies !

——

The night was bleak, but yet somehow managed to house life with all of the neon city lights. You let out breath, only to see it animate as smoke in front of you. It was nothing you weren’t already used to, however living in America for 10 years will make you appreciate the little sun home had.

You had just got off the plane and were awaiting a bus to your hotel. You came here on impulse.. you were starting to get anxiety at the idea. What was the whole purpose of this trip? You tried to quell it, and so you looked down at your phone to see a missed call from- oh.. oh.

Immediately, you unlock your phone and redial, and with the same amount of swiftness, the other side picked up.

“Hello?”

His voice, it sounded so different. It was woven with misery. It’s not the him you knew. Of course, in the past he always had his monotone and sassy way of responding, but it’s.. different. Does he even know? He hasn’t called you all this time up until this point.. he had to know.

“Tom..?”

You choked out. Why were you getting emotional? This didn’t make any sense. You missed him, yes, vbht he hurt you. It’s probably the nostalgia from being at here again. At home.

But home didn’t look like home anymore.

“ahh.. y/n..,” he sighed and your breath hitched, “i’m sorry.. i’m so so sorry.”

You grabbed your stuff and got off of the bench you were sat at and started walking.

“Please don’t hang up, and listen. I don’t know why I didn’t call. I think about you every night. I was mad... I think I was mad. I was hurt you didn’t even hesitate to leave. I didn’t show up at the airport the day you left and I regret it everyday. The promise you made all those years ago.. we were teenagers, I know, but I can’t help but remind myself of it every time I think of you.”

Your walking pace started getting faster. Next thing you knew, you took a sharp left turn, then a right, then you continued on straight. Your body was guiding you at this point, but you didn’t care. As long as the tears didn’t fall. You listened intently as his breath hitched and couldn’t help but feel your stomach turn.

“I got the letter you sent me.. and I never wrote back. I’m sorry. I read it everyday. I tried writing back, and I’ve kept every draft. I want to read it to you one day.. I don’t know when that day will be, but y/n.. when I read the last part.. when you said ‘Til infinity.. did you really mean it? Do you still love me? Did the feelings ever leave?? Y/n I can’t begin to apologize enough..”

Next time your conscious decided to check up on your surroundings, you were in a building signing a visitor list with your shoulder prompting up your phone to your ear.

“Y/n.. I love you. I never stopped loving you. I was hurt, and I was upset.. that I lost the only person I ever recognized as a part of me. I didn’t want your happiness to depend on me. I wanted you to have the world, and the luxuries I couldn’t afford you. For fuck sake y/n, I could barely afford repairing Susan. I saw how much you wanted to become a doctor.. so I thought letting you go would be best,” he let out a sad chuckle, and it made you flash a sad smile in return, “I’m probably not making any sense, am I? Whatever.. I just needed to get this out to you.”

You found yourself standing in a doorway to an office. You didn’t dare make a noise once you realized where you were: It was his office.

How’d you even think to come here.. when did you even ask the front desk for directions? How’d you know— well, you knew what he was up to because Matt did keep in contact. Still, it made your stomach do flips.

You heard him speak twice over because you hadn’t dare hang up, “Y/n… you don’t have to say anything but..” He stopped, and so did your heart. The feedback from the phones was enough to make the back that was facing you turn. To say he looked different was an understatement.

You watched as his frown turned into a shaky smile, then into a frown again, but this time he bit down on his lip. Probably to stop the quivering. You couldn’t tell if he was crying due to the goggles he had on, but you knew he was in shock by the way he shakily stood up.

Your heart sank watching how he tried to stay strong for you.

The tears fell when he hung up.

The sobs followed when you closed the door behind you.

Tom slowly moved from behind his desk to get closer to you, only for him to run towards you after watching your legs struggle to keep you up. Falling into his arms, you clung onto him for dear life. He smelled so nice.. the alcohol scent was softer now.. did he lay off a little? All the memories your dream job helped you repress came rushing back. He was your first kiss, your first boyfriend, your first true best friend… your first everything.

“I left you.. I broke our promise, and I’m so sorry Tom-” he interrupted, “You were my responsibility and I avoided you because I was being selfish.”

You looked up at him, and him down at you.

“I love you so much… you look so miserable… yet you look so pretty.. you’ve grown up.” You tried to smile but you realized it probably looked like you were dying, and the awkward laugh you choked out ended up sounding like a whimper.

Burying your face into his chest, you spoke muffled, “I regret leaving you. I was selfish.. and I didn’t think of you-” “No y/n-” “Listen.. please.. I don’t need the money. At least not anymore. I wanna be here with you again. I wanna be with you.. again. I wanna have the stupid family you always spoke about.. you know.. the one with the mutated dog and a daughter with the inability to tell her left from the right..”

You heard a chuckle rumble from him and began to pet your head, “I can’t believe you remember that..” Oh his voice sounded sad.. like he was crying. Brace for rejection, is what you told yourself.

“Id like that a lot y/n..”

You looked up to see Tom, now without his goggles.. Oh his eyes… what happened to your love when you were away. You couldn’t help but cry harder seeing him like that. You weren’t there for him. You watched as his face grew pained watching your reaction. Like a child, you rubbed your eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Tom… I love you so much. There’s so much I want to say but I can’t manage to stop.. barely even speak… could you ever forgive me..? For doing this to you.. for leaving you like this..”

You felt his hand gently grace your face.. what once was a soft hand turned rough.

“I’d forgive you a hundred times over if it meant I got to hold you again.”

#eddsworld tom #tom ew #tom eddsworld #tom fanfic #tom x reader eddsworld #tom x reader #ew tom #future au #eddsworld future #eddsworld x reader #eddsworld fanfic #eddsworld #this lowkey a vent ngl

83 notes · View notes

kaylaz-world-00 · 1 year ago

Text

Laserhawk!Rayman x Reader

A/n: Okay, I couldn't help myself and write this down. I've been thinking about this idea for a while now. I've been not going to any airports for such a long time, forvgive me if I made a mistake. This is not the special for 300 followers so you know~👀

I am sorry if there is any typo mistakes. I wrote the end in a rush 😭

Summery; You and Rayman trying to go to your arranged hotel peacfully.

Warnings: cursing, guns.

Masterlist

Words: 3.4k

Taglist: @blorbostation @eateableworm @livelaughluvvfaithyy @darkchanx @astoraa @shiroisotto64

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

Dear anons; I would really appreciate it if you could choose an emoji while sending your asks and requests (and stick with it) so I can tell you apart. Thank you~

Hotel

"We are sorry but you can't go through unless you show us a proof that you are infact his manager. Rayman doesn't seem to be very aware of your presence either. If you are lying--"

You growled, "What do you mean I can't go through?! Didn't I just tell you that I was Rayman's manager?" You were angry alright. You could see Rayman from your point against the few guards in front of you. He was surrounded by young kids. My god. Why would there be so many children at the airport at this hour anyway? Now how were you going to convince these fuckers? You didn't want to have to deal with these jerks in the middle of the airport with a bunch of luggage. It was too late at night for that.

"I'm not lying! I can't find my cards and information, they must be in Rayman's bag. At least let me call out to him-" you were stopped by them once again. Normally this wouldn't be such a problem, but you were experiencing this because they found a few... unapproved items on you. To be more specific, weapons. They slowly advanced towards you, making clear their guns precence to you. They weren't pointing it at you... yet. You frowned. It was a warning.

You glared and slowly spoke for them in your own warning tone, calmly stepping back and slightly raising your hands in the air, "I'm his bodyguard. Okay? That's why I keep them with me. At all times. You never know... what might happen any moment." You didn't want to cause a scene here right now. You reminded yourself that you are in the middle of an airport with a lot of bystanders and especially children around you.

"A second ago, you said you were a manager. When did that change? I'm sorry, but I think you're just trying to get out of trouble, but that won't work. We have no reason to believe you. Now come with us without making a scene." You were trying so hard for this right now.

"I'm doing both! I'm telling the truth. Just lemme--" You couldn't keep your calm any longer as they were coming towards you like a truck, and you wouldn't stood still staring like a deer, you couldn't do that. There was a great injustice here and you were definitely can't stand it. You called out to Rayman one last time before you could do anything wrong. If he didn't have your phone, you would have called him already. "RAYMAN, COME HERE Damn it!" you shouted but in vain, it was impossible for him to hear your voice over all the noise, you just hoped he would notice your absence. Right away.

Luckily, Rayman finally managed to notice your absence before security could do anything. You might have laughed if you weren't so tired at the look on his face when his eyes caught your figure. You gestured for him to come here immediately. Now. He looked so scared by your expression that you could have laughed at that. He ran over to you as he apologized to the kids, "Hey, hey! They're with me!" He quickly took out his card and showed it to them with a polite smile.

You rolled your eyes when they were finally convinced to let you in. Rayman helped you carry the luggages. He apologized to you several times as you stared ahead listlessly.

"I thougt you were right behind me! I forget that I was the one carrying your cards! I am really sorry."

You huffed in defeat, "No, it's fine, kids come first." You chuckled tiredly, "It was my fault I should have been the one carrying them in the first place. Whatever let's just catch the plane before they leave without us." You glance at your wrist. "We are only minutes away, god those fuckers took all our time. I suggest we start running." And you did just that, alerting Rayman along with it.

He start running along with you, "Hey, no need to rush Mr/Miss OCPD! We can always buy tickets for another one for today."

"Today? You mean tomorrow?" You scoffed. It was nearly midnight. "I don't want to stay up all night. It's already too late, let's just go. Also I don't have a Obsessive whatever personality disorder, I am just punctual. All my jobs are planned and need to be in time. Especially yours! Do you know how much pain in the ass would be for me if you miss something?! God, Eden would kill me." It's not even like they pay you good for your every success. It wasn't yours it was his success.

He was out of breath from the long, fast, non-stop run, as if you were going to get a reward at the end of it, but he still let out a laugh. But you were going to do whatever it took to get the job done, "Sure. You are a people-pleaser--" he start counting as you rolled your eyes.

"Look who is talking."

"You have Anxiety, obsession, probably dyspraxia too."

"Okay now you are going too far, you jerk. I am completaly a normal person trying to live a normal life. How normal it could be as long as I am stuck with you Mr. Rayman. The man who sheds light in the darkness."

"I'm taking this as a compliment."

The two of you were finally able to board the plane before it took off. You wanted to say that you could finally breathe a sigh of relief, but your clumsiness didn't quite allow it and continued to be a pain in the ass for you.

"You should be happy that we got the best seats. Because I am! Do you think we could see some nice view when we are up above? I heard the weather will be clear tonight." He daydreamed as he looked outside of the window with the biggest grin you ever saw on him.

"Yeah, sure whatever." You grumbled as you tried to push your suitcase into the compartment above your seat. You were obviously struggling but eventually managed to get it inside and quickly closed the compartment with anger and impatience. And finally sat down next to Rayman with a sigh, you can relax a bit now. Your body ached from all the things you were carrying and running around so much causing your frown to deepend.

You give a real remark to his previous statement, "How nice of Eden to be such a gentleman and give us the money for two tickets first-class plane. Unlike the last time..." You scoffed.

Finally deciding to look at you, he took his eyes off the window and turned to you, already aware of your discomfort and exhaustion and hoping to finally address it gently, muttering, "Hey, how about you relax a bit? We've got a four-hour flight. Sleep could do you good. You look like you've been up all night for three days straight. You're much crankier than usual. And you definitely need makeup. For your under eyes." He nervously eyed you.

You rolled your eyes at that, suppressing a sudden yawn appeared in your chest at the mention of sleep, "What a coincidence. How did you know? I've been working and writing non-stop for three days. Trying to get your work done."

He turned to you with a warm smile and a bit of embarrassment, "Hey, you're a lifesaver, okay? But I'm serious. Sleep. I'll wake you up when we land. Don't worry about me or yourself. If anyone tries anything, I have something up my sleeve too." He whispered with a grin and whinked.

"How reassuring. But you're right. I really need some sleep." You needed to gather your strength and mind for tomorrow. You couldn't be this anxious and stressed. Nor this lose and tired. You sighed in defeat and turned onto your side. He didn't say anything and you didn't need to hear any more.

You've been working all your life to get what you want to be like the majority. You always wanted to be able to make a change for the world. Working with Eden wasn't your biggest dream, in fact, quite the opposite. You hated them. But you had no choice. And you were forced to do this. But if it would make a difference, you would even be willing to die. You followed Rayman wherever he went, in a way you became his bodyguard. It didn't take long for you to receive that title from Eden. It had become official, and frankly, it made your job a lot easier. The fact that you knew how to fight was a bonus to them and a reason to use you. But after meeting Rayman and becoming his manager, something changed... He always manages to get into trouble, even if you don't know how, but you were always there to save him. Physically, of course. He already knew how to verbally get himself out of shit. At least that's what you hoped for. Even though some of his words might cause fights in some places... you finally know he doesn't meant to. You knew how much of a trouble Eden could be. So much so that sometimes Rayman needed you not just as a bodyguard or a manager, but as a friend... Rayman needed you to be there... he needed you to support him. He was needy, isolated, manipulated. And you are not saying any of this to insult him. Before that, you didn't realize he was actually innocent... and you continued to remain cold and distant, but he was always innocent, to say the least. You decided to be there for him after learning that. You don’t know why you decided on that. Maybe it was conscience. Or the unfair threatment he is having. Your sense of justice did not allow this. You wanted to help so badly. Even if it means throwing away your job. Yes, you've come to that point. You couldn't believe it yourself either. You saw the real him. Not the person on TV who lies and smiles through his teeth, the face Eden shows. He was defenseless behind the walls he built himself, he was being victimized and used by the company he worked for, even though he had little knowledge and was unaware of it. He was made to believe that what he was doing was a good thing, he was made to believe that he was saved, he put up with what Eden did to him for the sake of the children and for peace. He had no one to call his real friend, damn it! You would have wanted to fill that out, but... the only part you were allowed to do was keep him safe and pass on information. And nothing else.

You slept deeply and surprisingly restfully for the four hours until the plane landed. You woke up soundly asleep without anyone even having to wake you up, which surprised you. Normally this would never happen, especially in a place where you sleep outside of your bed. You were a light sleeper too. So it was normal while you wake up while landing but Rayman didn't woke you up? After yawning a little, you were about to get up to get your suitcase when you notice the weight on your shoulder and glance at your side. Your lips turned into a soft smile upon noticing Rayman was sleeping sound asleep, leaning against you, in a deep slumber.

You couldn't help but giggle, "And here I was hoping you'd stay awake the whole flight. Who am I kidding? Rayman and not sleeping?" How were you going to wake him up now? He's a really heavy sleeper. Your experiences speak for you right now. It's almost impossible to wake him up. Actually you have to but do you want to? He looked really relaxed and happy. Ah, come on he always looks like that! Just wake him up! But... something about that soft smile plastered on his lips telling you this was a real smile unlike the ones he seems to wear on his face all the time. Especially in front of the camera.

You pouted, this is your job and the two of you can't stay on this plane all day… besides, Rayman can sleep at the hotel Eden arranged for you two. Also, you didn't want to be late for your meeting...

You nudge his side. You knew a little nudge won't help him but you started of slow and gentle. You were in a good mood today. "Hey, Ray Ray." You whispered, calling out his nickname. You pushed his head on the other side and turn to him, "Ray! Wake up!" You hold onto hid hand and shook them, "Ray, Rayman! Wake up!!" You get up starting to shook his body, "This isn't sleeping you idiot! This is dying! COME ON! WAKE UP!" You grabbed his clothes and jolt him a few times, you were up infront of him by now, with all your might you continued, "Come on! We landed! Wake up, we need to go! You can sleep later!" You were about to slap him, "If you don't wake up right now I'll throw you off of the fucking plane!" He grumbled a few words hard to understand causing you to halt and lower your hand on his chest once again gripping his clothes. He was still asleep.

You fucking ask for that. You groaned as you wrapped your arms around his body and lifted him up. "God, you're a lot heavier than you look." You huffed and start to carry him towards the exit of the plane.

"I'm fucking throwing you out." You weren't actually gonna do that. You were hoping he would wake up as cold fresh air of the night swarm him. Almost all passengers on the plane had disembarked. The rest were still looking at you strangely because of what had just happened. You didn't pay any attention to them and continued on your way. Even the way you carried Rayman was weird. But how else were you going to carry him when half of the man didn't... exist? His arms and legs were nope, and the only place you could hold on to was his chest. His feet and hands were almost rubbing on the ground. He was still asleep with his head on your shoulder. Oh my god.

When you finally reached the door, you barely lifted him into the air and held him out against the night wind. Even you were cold when you realized he was shivering, he whined a few times and winced. He muttered something about him awoke and rubbed his eyes. Of course you didn't believe that, "If you don't really wake up right now, I'll let you go, don't test my patience. You'll fall down the stairs. My arms are already torn off. Lose some weight."

He grumbled, voice horse from just waking up, it was clear four hours wasn't excatly enough to satisfy his tired body, "You lose some. I am perfectly fine, thank you. You are heavier than I am." He pouted sleepily. "Also... Please put me down my butt is freezing here."

You muttered, "Your ass is freezing because of you."

You scoffed and do as he wished, sighing in relief when you got your aching arms back, massaging them gently, you couldn't hold yourself back from talking further, "We are nearly at the same weight. But you are half of my height. You are fucking heavhy. How dare you can insult me? You are a pain in the ass to wake up! Why I have to be the one to suffer everytime!? Pray that I am in a good mood today or you've been on the cold concrate with a terrible headache."

"You love me too much for that. You wouldn't do that to your favorite... would you?" He hesitate.

While the hostess watch you both argue back and forth like married couples, she couldn't help but smiled at your relationship. You were finally able to wake him up and gather your belongies, finding a taxi and finally on your way to your arranged hotel. Thank god.

While on your way you did everything in your power to not let him fall asleep again. Him grumbling everytime he was woken up before he could sleep on your shoulder.

"I am not gonna carry all that suitcase myself."

"I am not sleeping." He grumbled.

And he fall asleep afterwas. You will gonna rub that in his face later. When you finally arrived at the hotel, luckily the taxi driver was a kind person and helped you carry your belongings. Rayman was still sleeping on the bed you carried to his room while you pay the driver. After closing the door you took a deep breath and sat on the bed. Finally, you can breath a little. Sun already risen, it’s 8 in the morning. Four hours passed, huh? You had still time until your arranged meeting… You pondered to yourself. You watched him sleep a bit, the way he calmly breathed, his chest slowly rising and falling, his blonde locks of hair covering his eyes. He looked so serene.

You get up and reached towards the door. Giving a final glance at the soundly asleep boss of yours, you get out of his room. You already left all his suitcases in his room. He can do whatever he wants with then when he wakes up. You both gonna stay two weeks in there. Reporting things and such. Whatever Rayman does. You heard there is a beach nearby too. Though it was too cold to swim. You are sure Eden especially choose this time around on purpose. Just to tease you two. Those fuckers.

You went past your own room and went straight ahead for the elevator and pressed the top floor. You want to see the view.

After a bit of wait the doors opened with a ding. You walked in the penthouse, glancing around, observing the nice view with a deep happy sigh.

You closed your eyes with a smile. But it faded quickly, you gripped the earphone between your two fingers. You sighed with a thoughtful expression, putting it in your ear and pressed it on, calling for the only contact inside. Before you could even open your mouth, a very familiar voice quickly answered from the other side. "Light. It's been so long since I've heard from you! Honestly, it's good to see you're calling. Do you have something to report?" Light... that was your code name.

"Bullfrog." You greeted back, "Actually no... This time... I need to talk to you... like a friend."

You waited for him to say something. Hearing a few gunshot and a grunt from him your expression soured, "Fuck, was this a bad time?"

"Non, non, not at all. Just gimme a sec."

You waited a few minutes for him. You heard him fight with a few armed people. He heaved a sigh, "I would like to talk also, mon ami. What's up?"

You sighed, "It's about our mission... I can't... I can't do this to him. I want to tell him--"

"If you do you would risk our mission." He sounded serious but you are too.

You chuckled, "Aren't we always under heavhy danger?"

"I always trust your instincts you know that. But you actually believe he could change just so you said so? He believes he is doing good."

"I know. Don't worry, I am not gonna do anything that can risk the mission or us. I just need a right moment. I know we can able to get him to our side." You knew Bullfrog didn't actually believe what you said.

You heard him sigh, you knew he wanted to argue about that, he only softly speak up a few words, "I find it hard, mon ami. Just be more carifull." You heard more gun shots on his side. "I need to go. We'll talk more about this later. You just continue observing." You were an agent after all.

"You want to meet?"

"That's too risky. Just wait for my call."

"Alright. Try to stay alive until then."

"You too, prends soin de toi." He closed the call.

You took a deep breath and took your earphone off. You just need to wait the right time.

The right moment... you wonder...

#allenwrites #reader #x reader #captain laserhawk #rayman #rayman x reader #captain laserhawk rayman #rayman captain laserhawk

146 notes · View notes

trickstarbrave · 3 months ago

Text

hey i wrote more

modern au is BACK. nerevar and voryn are also back together !!!

i havent proofread it tho bc im miserable and tired sorry if theres weird typos. i wrote most of this on my phone

Nerevar was once again sitting on the couch, now anxiously waiting. He kind of felt sick if he was being honest, nauseated at the idea of confronting Voryn.

Voryn was going to be mad at him, right? Nerevar would have been angry in his shoes. Sure, Nerevar was told to leave by Voryn’s brothers, but they didn’t force him to. They could have threatened Nerevar or used violence, or even just harassed him into leaving. Instead they just told him to leave, saying it was for Voryn’s future. Hell, maybe the three of them genuinely believed Voryn would have been disowned or disinherited if he had a baby at 18--it wasn’t implausible. Nerevar also believed the same thing. But Nerevar was the one who went along with it. He could have called Voryn at any time telling him his brothers were distracting him intentionally. He could have told Voryn over the phone he was pregnant. He could have told the truth. But Nerevar ran away like a coward because it was easier than sticking around for years and years, giving Voryn the chance to leave him.

Voryn had every right to be furious with Nerevar, telling him he was horrible for keeping this secret from him. Voryn had every right to demand answers for what Nerevar was thinking by going along with his brothers’ plan and not telling him anything. Voryn had every right to demand an apology, and there wasn’t much Nerevar could do to make up for any hurt he caused him.

He heard the sound of the door opening and on impulse stood up. It was annoying to stand up this far along, but he was already doing so without really thinking about it. Maybe it was actually an instinct to run away, but there wasn’t anywhere else he could really run to.

Next came the sound of footsteps, and before he had a chance to fully prepare himself, there was someone familiar in the living room with him.

Voryn’s hair looked bad. It was the first thing Nerevar noticed, trying to avoid his eyes initially. It looked frizzy and kinda dry, as opposed to shiny and sleek as it usually was. His clothes were also wrinkled and kind of frumpy, something Voryn would normally do everything to avoid. Even when he would wear just a t-shirt and slacks, he made sure they matched, were wrinkle free, and always fit properly.

Finally, Nerevar met his eyes, and instead of finding anger, all he saw was a mix of emotions that made Nerevar feel like all of the wind had been knocked out of him.

Nerevar would have preferred he be angry. He didn’t like Voryn being angry at him, but this seemed even more painful. Instead, Voryn looked at Nerevar with a heartbreaking mixture of sadness and relief, his hands reaching out hesitantly, unsure if he was allowed to touch Nerevar. Under his eyes were dark circles, his brows ungroomed, and his beard scruffy and a bit unkempt. Nerevar felt his own tears welling up, his heart lurching, and equally hesitantly opened his arms as though asking for a hug.

“Neht,” Voryn whispered, stepping forward quickly to wrap his arms around him. They couldn’t hug properly, not with Nerevar’s stomach being as big as it was. Instead it had to be an awkward, partially to the side hug rather than chest to chest. Still though, it felt like a sweet relief, the familiar warm of Voryn in his arms and the scent of his cologne faintly clinging to his clothes, the tears in Nerevar’s eyes quickly starting to fall. “Thank god you’re safe.” Voryn continued, pressing a kiss to his messy hair. “I was so worried about you…”

“I’m sorry,” Nerevar’s voice broke in a sob. He hadn’t intended to cry and babble apologies like this. He intended to just sit down and talk about it, let Voryn yell at him if he wanted to, and try to work something out. But having Voryn holding him like this was too much. “I’m so sorry, Voryn,” The feeling he had when he sent that text came washing over him all over again, that much stronger. All of the guilt he’d shoved aside, all of the pain and loneliness he felt after leaving, everything was catching up to him.

“Shh,” Voryn hushed him, “Everything’s alright now, you’re safe and that’s what matters.” Voryn then gently prodded Nerevar to sit on the couch, helping him down, not letting go of him for a moment.

“You should be mad at me.” Nerevar knew he was making a mess of Voryn’s hoodie with how much he was crying. It would be covered in snot and tears and spit. But he didn’t want to pull away yet, not when it felt nice being held. Instead he’d rather Voryn start scolding him first.

“Why would I be mad at you?” Voryn asked him incredulously, stroking his hair. “Neht, you did nothing wrong.”

“I left…” He continued mumbling into Voryn’s hoodie.

“My brothers lied to you. They misled you and told you to leave.” Voryn pulled Nerevar away just long enough to start wiping his face, but still didn’t let him go. “You thought you were doing the right thing, for both me and our baby.” Nerevar’s heart skipped a beat as Voryn said their baby. Not just Nerevar’s baby, but Voryn’s too. “I know you wouldn’t want to leave on your own. I know that you wanted to tell me.” Nerevar chewed on his lower lip in guilt.

He had wanted to leave. He was convinced that Voryn was just going to leave him anyway. He only wanted to tell Voryn because it felt wrong to hide it from him, but he was already thinking about what a horrible life their son would have if Nerevar stayed.

“I did want to leave though.” Nerevar admitted. Honestly, maybe at this point he wanted Voryn to be angry with him. Part of him was coming clean just so Voryn could see him as the person he was, and stop acting so kind and caring. To either realize Nerevar was right or be so insulted he didn’t want him back anymore. “I thought you might just--that you would get sick of me and want to leave eventually. I could handle that myself but I wouldn’t know how to explain that to a kid--”

“You thought I’d leave you?” Voryn’s voice broke. “Nerevar,” Nerevar couldn’t look at him again, instead closing his eyes since he didn’t feel it was appropriate to bury his face into Voryn’s chest again. “Why on earth would I leave you?”

“Because I’m… I’m lower class than you.” Nerevar hiccupped even though he found the fact obnoxious. He was trying to will his tears away and failing. “Eventually you’d get sick of the fact I was embarrassing to be around and you’d want someone your family doesn’t hate--”

“Nerevar, I’m not so shallow that I’d do that.” Voryn was still stroking his face, trying to get Nerevar to look at him again. “If I was, why would I date you in the first place?”

“Because I seemed interesting to mess around with.” Nerevar couldn’t really place why Voryn would either, just that he caught Voryn’s eye. “Or maybe you just think I’m hot.” That was also a possibility. Nerevar didn’t think he looked bad; in fact he thought of himself as quite good looking (or rather he used to, dysphoria was kicking his ass at the moment). Wasn’t that why most people their age dated anyways? “But that you’d realize as you got older you’d need something more…”

“Why did you date me?” Voryn’s question was unexpected. Nerevar thought he might fight it or dismiss his concerns, childishly having not even thought about it and assume Nerevar was simply thinking about it too hard.

“Because you’re…” Nerevar finally looked at him, his hands clinging to Voryn. “Because you’re beautiful and smart and… Confident and strong willed…” The tears started coming even faster as he felt the love he’s always had for Voryn washing over him. “You’re also so kind to me, always know what to do to make me feel better, always make me feel…” He couldn’t continue the sentence, he was sobbing too hard now. Part of him wanted to cling to this, to beg Voryn not to leave him, that Voryn was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, but he also felt like he would be a terrible person for holding Voryn back.

“Shh…” Voryn hushed him again, rubbing his back and pulling him back into a hug. Nerevar again felt guilty about crying like a child and ruining Voryn’s hoodie further, but he also didn’t have it in him to pull away and he couldn’t make the tears stop. “Nerevar, I wasn’t just dating you because I liked the way you looked. I love you.” Nerevar choked on a sob, digging his nails into the fabric even further. “I love the fact you’re confident and intelligent, the way you always manage to come up with a plan and never want to give up. The way you can convince just about anyone of anything you want, and how much you love protecting the people close to you.”

Nerevar didn’t know how much he wanted to hear that. He still couldn’t believe it, but it sounded so sweet in that tone of voice, sugary and syrupy and tender like it was the most heartfelt love confession in existence. Maybe he just wanted to believe it, as illogical as it was.

“I love you,” Nerevar mumbled into his hoodie. “I love you so much, Voryn…” He hiccuped again, before he felt a painful kick in his stomach, wincing.

“What is it?” Voryn said softly, pulling away just enough to look down at him, while Nerevar rubbed his stomach. Another kick followed, and then with it pressure on his hips that made pain shoot down his right leg. He hissed, trying to shift to a more comfortable position. Voryn was at his side, hushing him, helping him lean back against the couch, before rubbing his stomach too. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” Nerevar mumbled into Voryn’s shoulder where he was now resting his head, the pain in his leg going away and the kicking slowing. “He--he really hates it when I’m crying.”

“It’s a boy?” Voryn asked, a sort of wonder in his voice Nerevar knew very well. It was one thing to know about the pregnancy, but the more you knew about the baby and how they were developing, the more ‘real’ it became.

“Yeah,” Nerevar couldn’t help but smile, warmth flooding him now as the tears began slowing. “The doctor said he’s able to hear things outside my body now too.” It was something almost magical to know, though a bit weird to think about how he could hear his stomach growling and heart beating before that (or still could, really).

“Have you thought of a name?” Voryn asked, his voice soft, even more tender than before.

“I haven’t been able to think of one, no.” He snorted. “My mom said to just wait as she didn’t know what to name me until after I was born… But I also just kind of suck at naming things.”

“I could…” Voryn began, his expression somewhere between hopeful and worried that Nerevar would refuse, “I could help you pick out names if you’d like, Neht.” Nerevar snorted, before laughing happily.

“I’d like that.” He wanted Voryn to be a part of this, if possible. Part of him was still reluctant, anxious that Voryn would leave him eventually, but he was trying to force that down. He loved Voryn more than anything, and part of loving someone meant trusting them. His mom was right in that Voryn hadn’t done anything to break his trust, and Nerevar wanted Voryn at his side. He was prepared to do this with just his mom supporting him, but he wanted Voryn there helping him, supporting him, loving him. Even if Voryn might change his mind later, he wanted to believe they’d work something out. Voryn wouldn’t just leave him and their son coldly and callously, saying he didn’t care about either of them anymore, and if he did there would be hell to pay for it.

At his answer, Voryn looked overjoyed, warmth in his eyes. “Do you mind if I… Talked to him a bit?”

Nerevar snorted again. “Go for it.” It would certainly be cute, right?

Voryn then kneeled down in front of the couch, pressing a soft kiss to Nerevar’s stomach. “Hi little one,” Voryn never had a more tender expression on his face than he did at that moment. “I already can’t wait to meet you.” He leaned in to press another soft, gentle kiss, and Nerevar felt a slight kick. “I love you so much. I can’t wait to hold you, sing to you…”

“A lot of it is going to be him crying and making a mess.” Nerevar reminded him, but mostly that was just to cover up the fact his eyes were already watering again. He wasn’t normally this much of a sap who cried this much, but he’d blame it on pregnancy hormones.

“I’m sure I’ll be miserable alongside you, Neht,” Voryn looked up at him, still smiling so warmly it got Nerevar’s heart racing, “But I’ll still love our son dearly and treasure all the special moments we’ll have with him.”

He sat up on the couch once more, taking Nerevar’s hand. “Please,” He pleaded, now desperate, “Please let me do this with you, Neht. Please come back with me.” Seeing Voryn like this once again left Nerevar feeling like all the wind had been knocked out of him. “I want to get a place for us and our baby. I want to help you through this. I want to be there for you and our son.”

“I…” Nerevar knew this was a possibility, but he was still hesitant. Not because he didn’t want to trust Voryn, but instead because he had done so much to set up here. It wasn’t fair to ask Voryn to live in his mom’s house, but Nerevar leaving would mean packing up the nursery, getting a new doctor, not to mention traveling while pregnant and reworking his birth plan. Still, he didn’t want Voryn to leave him again either.

Seeing him hesitate, Voryn continued. “I think it would be good, Neht.” Voryn explained. “You’re used to the city more, you’ll have your friends close by… We can get whatever kind of place you want, move everything you’ve got for the baby in… We can even have a nanny help out a little after you’ve given birth so you're not exhausted.”

Nerevar didn’t like the last part. While he was missing his friends, along with pregnancy cravings for many restaurants back home, he didn’t like the idea of a stranger handling his baby. “Moving all of the nursery stuff seems like such a pain,” Nerevar groaned, “And I don’t think a nanny would be a good idea.”

“It is,” His mom chimed in, entering with Voryn’s mom. Nerevar jumped at that, forgetting the other two were also there. It seemed they were giving them some privacy to make up, but came in to check in on or speak with them. “You have no idea how miserable it is with a newborn.” His mother looked tired just saying that. “Even though I had your father, we were both miserable. The house was a mess, we were barely getting sleep, had no time to do laundry, and god forbid you heard the dryer go off if we did have time to do laundry, because then it would wake you up and you’d scream your little head off.” Nerevar glanced away; it wasn’t his fault, but he felt guilty putting his parents through that.

“You’ll want help. Trust me. And if you have the chance to get help so you can have time to sleep and eat and shower without feeling like a zombie or being on edge, you should take it.” She sat on one of the chairs in the living room. “It’s better to look for one now while your head’s clear.”

“I thought you were going to help?”

“I can come too and help.” She shrugged. “I doubt you’ll want your mom staying with you long term, but I’m still not a professional.”

“Besides,” Morvani began, “I assume you’ll want to go to college, right? It would be good to have the boy accustomed to a nanny from a young age. It’ll be harder on him if he has to adjust to someone new, and it’ll only make you anxious when you’re in classes. It’s best to find a good one ahead of time and all three of you adjust to them.”

It was a good argument. He should get a feel for the nanny before he started college, that way he knew if he could trust them with his son while he was out of the house for longer periods of time for classes. He didn’t plan to go to college until the fall semester since he wouldn’t have enough time to recover properly for spring. A little over half a year would be plenty of time to adjust and see for himself if they were trustworthy.

“… Alright.” Nerevar sighed. “I guess I’ll have to pack everything up.” Nerevar felt anxious about this, but normally Voryn was more anxious than him. If Voryn seemed alright with it, it probably would be.

#my writing #nerevoryn #pregnancy

12 notes · View notes