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wormscience · 2 years ago
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New Linux ref sheet
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giannaln4 · 2 months ago
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For you? Anything.
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lando norris x fem reader
summary: Even during the worst week of you life, and no matter how tired he is, Lando would do anything to make you feel better.  (2.6k words)
warnings: fluff, established relationship, language.
a/n: And we are back to our regular schedule! Kinktober is officially over (kinda, more context here) so it's time to post regular fics. So, I wrote this sometime last week before the shit show of yesterday's race so that's why there are no mentions of it, but I do have some planned about that so we'll see when I can work on them. Anyway, this is for me and all the girlies who have been feeling stressed about work, let me know what you think!
↺ back to navigation — send me a request!
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What a week it has been for you. You had done nothing but work on a stupid project your boss put you in charge of. It was very short notice, and the due date was creeping up on you faster than you would’ve liked. 
The good thing is Lando had been away for weeks due to his job; not that you didn’t want to see him or that he was a distraction, nothing like that, but you always preferred to be with him instead of working, which isn’t something you would be able to do this time due to the amount of things you had to go over, but with the house all to yourself, you had the chance to get tons of work done.
It was finally the day of the presentation; you were supposed to pitch the finished project to management and honestly, you weren’t 100% confident in the job you had done. Usually, you were never too harsh on yourself, but with so little time to work on it, you knew there were some parts here and there that could’ve used a little more of your attention, but it was either use what you already have or show up with an unfinished project, so that would have to do. It wasn’t terrible; you were sure of that, but these people always found something to complain about.
You were there for only a few minutes before you were dismissed. What a fucking joke, you thought.
You didn’t even get half the presentation done, and the old dudes sitting across from you were already attacking you with questions, questions that didn’t even make sense or barely fit the theme of what you were trying to talk about. 
Your boss was the one to send you out, saying something like “You have another week; we hope you’ll be more prepared next time,” before standing up and leaving the cold conference room, followed by the rest of the men that were surrounding him.
Only minutes after going back to your office you saw him come in, giving you notes on the things he thought you should work on. As the polite girl that you are, you just nodded and wrote down whatever he was saying, apologising for not turning it up on time, but as soon as he left, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your face, ruining your make-up in the process. You still had half of your day ahead of you, so you calmed down, washed your face, and went back to work like nothing happened.
At the end of the day, however, that’s a different story. You went back home completely devastated. All those sleepless nights you spent with your nose buried in your laptop felt like a total waste. 
As you drove back home, you tried your best to hold the tears, but it was getting harder by the second, especially with each step you took down the hall that led to the door of your apartment, and when you made it there, you started crying as soon as you closed the door behind you.
You instantly got rid of your uncomfortable clothes and got into one of Lando’s shirts, curling up in your bed and letting all that consuming and irrational feeling of failure sink in. You knew you weren’t a failure; you were well aware of your worth, but you couldn’t help but feel like that after miserably failing the presentation you worked so hard on.
Suddenly, the front door opening pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out a loud sigh as you left the bed. You knew it was Lando coming back from his last race, and any other day you would’ve been happy to see him, running to the door to greet him with a hug like he deserved, but right now, you didn't want him to have to see you in that pathetic state.
You stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment, sighing again when you realised how obvious it was that you had been crying, so you’d just have to avoid eye contact.
“Hi baby,” Lando greeted you with his usual pretty smile as he entered your room.
"Hey,” you replied, immediately turning around and walking towards your desk, sitting facing away from Lando as you opened your laptop.
“Did you sleep okay last night? How did your presentation go?” He walked closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, kissing your temple.
“It was okay.” He stopped when he noticed your heavy mood. 
"You alright, love? You seem down." His brows were slightly furrowed as he tried to make eye contact.
​​"Yeah, fine. I think I’m just gonna work on it a little more; there were some things missing that I need to include," you replied, clearly lacking energy.
“Hey now, let’s not do that." Lando turned the chair over to make you face him. He looked down and noticed your glossy eyes, a worried feeling growing inside him. “Talk to me, please. What’s wrong?”
You just shook her head briefly, a lip-tight smile covering your face. “Everything’s fine.”
“Y/N…” The slip of your name past his lips made you want to cry again. Of course you wanted to be comforted by your boyfriend, but you didn’t like the thought of him having to pick up the pieces anytime you messed up. As a tear rolled down your face, you realised that you didn't have the energy or even the desire to push him away “Oh baby, come here.”
Lando took your hand as he sat on the floor next to you, pulling you onto his lap. Your face was now buried in his black hoodie, the tears wetting it instantly as he brushed a hand softly up and down your back.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you." He would understand if you didn’t want to talk about it but would still like to know what was happening. If there was anything he could do to help, he would gladly do it. “Do you wanna talk?”
“I just-” A sob cut you off, “I- I couldn’t do it, even after everything I did, it wasn’t enough.”
“Is this about your presentation?” He asked, his voice softer than ever, and you simply nodded. “It’s alright-”
“No, Lando, it’s not alright. I worked hard to get it together, to get it ready for days and nights and I still failed, I’m so stupid-”
“Hey, baby, look at me," he interrupted you, pulling back a bit and gently lifting your chin to look into your eyes. “You know that’s not true; you’re so smart, and I've always admired your beautiful mind. You gave it your best, like you said, you worked really hard, and even if you didn’t get the reaction you deserved, you know I’m right here.” You simply nodded at his words as the back of your hand wiped some of the tears. “Why didn’t you wanna tell me?”
"Because I don't want you to be disappointed in me like I am right now." You looked down to your lap as more tears fell from your tired eyes.
“You should know that I could never be disappointed in you, Y/N. You are so intelligent and kind; I’ve never met anyone with such a beautiful soul, so I don't ever want you to feel down about yourself because you are perfect." You felt both of Lando’s large hands caress either side of your face, bringing it up so he could look into your eyes again as he swiped at the tears that had managed to escape from your eyes.
The slight smile that had formed on your tear-stained face told Lando that his words meant something to you, and they did. “You’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”
“No, I’m your boyfriend for all those reasons." You giggled slightly. “And I’m sure that no one would disagree with me.”
“My boss would.”
“What does he know?” That made you laugh again, making Lando smile, a smile so sincere that told you he believed everything he just said.
"Thank you, baby, even though you’re being a little biased." You sniffled as you gently stroked the hand that was still on your cheek, keeping your eyes locked with his “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead. You took a deep breath, feeling a lot calmer than you did five minutes ago as you looked at your laptop briefly. 
“I should probably get back to work, though; I have to basically remake the whole thing and meet with them again next week.”
“What? Right now?”
“Yes, right now. I’m sorry.”
“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to bed? You look pretty tired. We can cuddle, I know we both need it.”
“I would love to,” your gaze fell on your bed momentarily; it looked so comfortable, and it was literally calling your name, “but I really need to get this done, and I have to do it right this time. I don’t wanna be embarrassed again in front of a bunch of old dudes.”
You stood up from his lap and sat back on your desk, focusing on the screen in front of you as you began to analyse what you should take out and what you needed to add. 
Lando just sighed. He knew there was no way he would get you to stop working if you already set your mind to it, but honestly, he thought he would get to spend every second with you once he got back home, so needless to say, he was a little disappointed that wasn’t the case.
He got it though; your job was important for you, and you would never settle for anything unless it was perfect. What made his blood boil was the fact that your boss had the nerve to make you feel like you weren't worth it. 
“Did you eat something already?” He asked you, getting up from the floor and wrapping his arms around you once again.
“Uh- I’m not really hungry.”
“Why don’t I cook something for us? What do you say?”
“It’s okay, baby, you should go to bed.” You tilted your head to look at him and give him a quick kiss. “I know you are tired, the triple header couldn’t have been easy.”
You started collecting your things so you could take over a different part of the apartment. He had been travelling for weeks; it wouldn’t be fair to keep him up just because you needed to get work done.
“Where are you going?”
“To your office, if that’s okay. I really don’t want to bother you.”
“You’re not-”
“Lan, I’ll be okay, I promise. Just go to bed, don’t worry about me.” Taking a few steps closer to him, you gave him a loving hug, “I love you.”
You left the room, holding everything in your hands as Lando just stood in the same spot. There was no way he would go to bed without you, not when you were feeling so down and it was clear you just needed to take a break.
Taking a deep breath, he started to make a plan in his head. He took the quickest shower of his life and got into something comfy, praying there was food, or more specifically, ingredients to cook you something that he wouldn’t mess up and that you would enjoy.
Everything seemed to be on his side when he found everything he needed to make some Alfredo. Everything was pretty much premade, so he knew he wouldn’t ruin it. He happily got to work, setting up a nice dinner as he hummed one of the songs that had been stuck in his head for who knows how long. 
In the office, you were nearly breaking your head as you read the information you had over and over again. You kind of knew what it needed to be since your boss gave you a few specific notes, but then again, you weren’t feeling completely confident in your own ideas. 
You didn’t realise you had been locked away for over an hour, your eyes getting insanely tired as you typed away. A break was needed and well deserved, and you were aware of this, but somehow it didn’t feel like you were making any progress, even though you had been working non-stop and you had already readjusted about half of the project.
A loud sigh escaped your lips as you abruptly closed your laptop, your face falling to your hands as your eyes felt wet yet again. That was it; there was no way you could keep going. You needed to grab a quick snack and head straight to bed. You did have an early morning the next day after all. 
Just as you were gathering all your strength to get up, you heard the door open, making you jump a bit.
“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” You laughed as your hand fell on your heart.
“Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he giggled, walking towards you.
“What are you doing still awake? I thought you went to bed.” 
“I couldn’t sleep without you. Are you almost done here?” He looked at your closed laptop, celebrating internally as he assumed you were done working for the night. 
“Yeah, I guess. My brain stopped working, so I thought my future self can worry about the rest tomorrow.”
“Good. Come here.” He extended his hand out to you, which you happily took. “Please stop overworking yourself, you know this isn’t healthy.”
“I know,” you let out a sigh as you accepted his embrace. “I’m seriously thinking about quitting. Who knows, maybe I’ll find something that doesn’t make me feel this stressed all the time.”
His hand was caressing your back softly as he pulled away to look down at you. “You know you can, right? And I really think you should. I make enough to support the both of us and even a family in the future... Baby, you don’t have to keep working there if you don’t want to.”
His words made a smile appear on your face. Not because he was offering to basically support you for the rest of your life, but because he brought having a family with you. “You know I’d never let you do that-”
“But if you do want to quit and just take a break, you can do that too,” he interrupted you. You nodded, seriously considering it, but that was something you would have to think about and have a serious conversation in the future if you ever did decide to do it.
“We’ll see. Right now, I just need something to eat and some sleep. I have to get up early tomorrow.”
“Speaking about dinner, I made something for you.”
He took your hand and guided you to the dining room, a big smile on his face as he proudly showed off the beautiful set-up and the (hopefully) delicious dinner he managed to cook. He looked back at you expectantly, but his happiness quickly turned into a worried look when he noticed tears falling from your eyes again. 
“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, a hand softly falling on your cheek as he leaned down. 
You were out of words; you truly didn’t know what to say. This is just what you needed, and the fact that he went out of his way to do it for you meant a lot more than he could ever imagine.
“I- Lando, this is-” you cut yourself off when you couldn’t find the right thing to say, so you just jumped in his arms and gave him the tightest hug ever. “Thank you for everything. And I mean everything.”
He let out a sigh of relief, hugging you back as he buried his head on the crook of your neck. “For you, my love, I’d do anything.”
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moonstruckme · 2 months ago
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Hi!! I had surgery a few weeks ago and I’m definitely hitting a wall mentally. I’ve been so sad with recovery and I’m so exhausted and cranky (unfortunately). I was wondering if you could write an emt!marauders or poly!marauders w reader going through that?? Thank you! Your writing has been a huge comfort for me during this time 🩷
Hi lovely! I realize it's been a while since you sent this so I hope you're feeling much much better now! Thanks for requesting <3
cw: post-op recovery, shoulder injury
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 727 words
James enters the bedroom to witness three stages of wakefulness. There’s Remus where he left him, fluffy haired and squinty eyed scrolling through his phone. One of Remus’ hands is toying idly with the ends of Sirius’ hair, who’s still dead asleep next to him, on his stomach with his face pushing into the pillow (James has never been able to figure out how he can breathe like that). Then there’s you, just sitting up with a groan and a sour look on your face. His angel. 
“Here, love.” James sets the coffee he’d brought for Remus on the nightstand, making sure the handle is facing him. Remus’ thanks is croaky with drowsiness, his smile gentle. James says to you, “Morning. How’d you sleep?” 
“Hard,” you mumble. You shrug your one shoulder experimentally, and grimace. “Too hard.” 
Remus makes a sympathetic sound, looking at you over the rim of his mug. “Did you sleep on it wrong?” 
“No.” You sound a tad defensive. “I was on my back all night.” 
Remus hums. “This is what happens when you don’t do your stretches at night, dovey.” 
You scowl. James ruffles Remus’ hair. “Be nice,” he chides. “You could do some stretching now, angel.” 
Sirius makes a disgruntled sleepy sound, rolling onto his side to wrap his arms around your waist. He settles his head contentedly on the plushness of your thigh. “Everyone shut up,” he grumbles. “And stop getting up.” 
“We’re not getting up,” James placates him. “She’s only doing her stretches.” 
“But it hurts,” you whine. 
“That’s why you do your stretches, sweetheart.” Remus gives you a look. 
James can feel you getting irritated. You’ve been recovering from your surgery for weeks now, and you’re growing exhausted not only with all the things you can’t do with your shoulder but also all the things you have to do to build back its strength and mobility. He goes to the dresser as you slump forward into your own lap, hapless. 
“Come on,” he laughs, tossing you your towel. “You can start with the towel one first. That one’s fit.” 
You look up at James. “It is not.” 
“Y’always look good, babe,” Sirius mumbles into your thigh. 
“See? And extra good when you stretch your arms like that.”
“He’s dead to the world.” You roll your eyes, though you’re petting Sirius’ hair fondly. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” 
Still, you sigh and pick up the towel when Remus nudges it towards you pointedly, rolling your neck in preparation. James feels a bit of warmth come to his face (he was only partly joking about how attractive you are when you stretch). 
It’s a bit difficult for you at first, clearly, the result of growing a bit lax about your stretches over the past few days. James can see Remus’ lips press together like he’s physically restraining himself from commenting on it. A low whine builds in your throat. 
“There you go,” says Sirius in a salacious tone. James is beginning to suspect he’s more awake than he’s letting on. “Tell us how you really feel, sweetheart.” 
“This is so pointless,” you grumble. “It’s too lame to do anything.” 
“Don’t say that,” James chides you. It’s not his intention to make you feel like you can’t vent to them, but James is firmly of the belief that ceasing negative talk will eventually lead to an abatement of negative thoughts. “It’s working, you just need to give it time. You’re tons better than you were a couple of weeks ago, right?” 
“If you mean I can pick up an empty soda can,” you say drily, “then yes.” 
“That is what I mean. Empty soda cans are a big step.” 
“It’s a process,” Remus tells you in a more placating tone. “You can’t expect to be all the way better overnight. Especially not if you’re not doing your stretches.” 
You don’t miss the judgment threaded through that last bit, your expression turning sour again. Sirius appears to sense this without opening his eyes. He hugs you around the middle, smearing a kiss over your thigh. 
“You’ll get there, lovie,” says James. “And hey, if it’ll help, I can sit with you while you do your stretches every day. I wouldn’t mind that at all.” 
Remus snorts, and Sirius mumbles something into your skin that sounds like “I’ll bet you wouldn’t.”
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racinggirl · 8 months ago
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furthest from truth
Lando Norris fic - requested
My inbox for requests
a/n: I'm baaack! It's been a while, I have to admit. But after having 3 new requests today, I got motivated again and I decided to write the ones that were yet to be posted on my page. I hope you like it! I've added some spice to the end of the chapter 👀 Don't forget to follow me so you won't miss my other stories! 🫶🏼
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Sun. Beach. Sand. Friends.
It might look cliché, but it’s what filled your hearts with joy.
‘’Norris! Give me a hand, will ya?’’ Your lips pulled away from those of your boyfriend the moment he got up to help one of your friends with preparing the jet skis.  
‘’Finally,’’ your best friend, Ava, laughed as she took a seat next to you. ‘’Now that your lips are no longer glued to his, what do you think of grabbing a drink, I’m in a desperate need for a Frozen Daiquiri.’’
She pulled you up on your feet after you agreed on getting drinks. It was your holiday, after all, and even though it was just your first day of the 3-week holiday here in Dubai, you were planning on making it the best holiday yet.
You and Lando had been together for a little over 5 months now, the two of you bumping into each other at last year’s Christmas Market in London. You spilled your bottle of water over your shirt, and he was determined to win you a teddy bear so he could make it up to you.
After that Christmas Market, you went on a ton of dates. In London, but also in Monaco, as that was where he lived. You attended 3 races before he finally asked you to be his last summer, and obviously you said yes, otherwise this story is kind of weird, isn’t it?
Anyways, you knew who he was when you met him, having watched a few races here and there, along with your friends.
The moment you told your friends Lando had asked you out on a date, they couldn’t contain their excitement and practically forced you to go out with him. So, you did. And here we are, almost a year later.
‘’Two Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri, please.’’ Ava ordered the drinks for the two of you and once you felt the cold glass in your hand, you immediately took a sip.
‘’Urgh,’’ you groaned, your eyes closed. ‘’Best drink ever.’’ You giggled.
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‘’Lando! Oh my god watch out!’’ Your grip on his life jacket was tight as he was riding the jet ski with you on the back. ‘’You idiot!’’ You laughed, hands gripping his shoulders firmly when you felt him go even faster – if that was even possible.
‘’You’re riding a jet ski with an F1 driver, love. Did you really think I was gonna go slow?’’ You groaned at his reply, and you simply held onto him like you could fall off any moment, which was probably the case.
Everything sport related was a game to him, and he was very, very competitive. He hated losing, which is why he tried his hardest to make you his, with success.
‘’Okay, okay, enough speed for me, let’s go back to the shore and have dinner, I’m starving.’’ You breathe, Lando’s hand moving over your leg slowly. He lifted his hand till it rested on your outer thigh, whilst still steering the jet ski with one hand. Slower, though, thankfully.
‘’We will, love, we will.’’ He said, but you could hear the amusement in his voice, his tone, teasingly with a smirk.
‘’Lan-…’’ You couldn’t even finish your sentence before your boyfriend pulled the right handle towards him, the two of you flying over the water. He made sure to keep an eye on you, but he knew you enjoyed this, and he wasn’t wrong.
You might tell him to stop going fast, heck, even in the bedroom you’d tell him to stop, but it was always with that flirty and teasing tone. He knew that tone, and he knew it meant you did not want him to, in fact, stop. So, he kept going.
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‘’I should have thought better before signing that contract about us.’’
You were fully drenched, Lando obviously pushing the strings too hard which caused you to fall off the jet ski. Nothing harsh, it was all playful, and the two of you were laughing when it happened.
‘’You’re an idiot.’’ You smirked, rolling your eyes playfully as you squeezed the salty water out of your hair.
‘’I know, but you like it.’’ He teased, slapping your ass lightly as his hand moved its way towards your hip, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. ‘’I love you.’’
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Dinner, which was absolutely insane – mostly because you were starving, but definitely because it was one of the best restaurants here in Dubai.
‘’Ehm..’’ Ava shoved you her phone, and you immediately let your eyes wander over the tweets, the Instagram posts, and the articles.
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Lando saw the worried look on your face, so he cut off the conversation with his friends and pointed his attention to you, causing his friends to do the same.
‘’What’s wrong, love?’’ He asked, his thumb drawing small circles on your knee as his gaze went from you to the phone, back to you.
You showed him the articles, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. You could see his jaw clench, the apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. ‘’They really need to make rumours about everything, don’t they?’’ He sighed and pressed a kiss to your temple.
‘’Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll fix it, we’ll post a statement on Insta, alright?’’ He said, his arms wrapping around you which caused you to relax.
You felt guilty, because you were aware of the eyes that were on him now that his contract with McLaren was coming to an end. You knew his contract was getting renewed, but the world didn’t, and you didn’t want to cause issues.
People blaming McLaren for not renewing his contract, and how this. People blaming McLaren for forcing Lando to be in a relationship with you, a PR relationship, which was the furthest from the truth. You loved each other so much, and McLaren had absolutely nothing to do with the two of you.
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‘’Come here.’’ Lando’s arms made his way around your shoulders, his strong arms pulling you even closer to his chest. The bed was comfy, soft, but the tension in your face was apparent, especially to Lando.
‘’I just, I feel so stupid for saying that.’’ You sighed but Lando reassured you immediately.
‘’Babe, it’s not the first time we say this, it’s our joke, and people don’t get it, apparently. You know how the media is, they exaggerate everything to get those views and clicks, so they probably overheard you saying that, but did not see the look on your face, or your beautiful smile when you said that.’’ His voice was soft and calm, like he was not stressed at all about this.
‘’But the image McLa-..’’
‘’No, baby, no. That’s not your fault, okay? They should have probably announced the contract extension sooner, yeah, but that has absolutely nothing to do with whatever you said at the beach, okay?’’ He said, stern, but gentle. And you believed him. Of course you did, you believed everything he would tell you because you knew he was right.
‘’Now let’s make that post so people will stop complaining about things that are the furthest from the truth. That, and so I can take you tonight because I really, really want to.’’ He whispered the last thing with a voice so deep, you felt chills all over your body.
landonorris added to his story
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landonorris & yourusername
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 1,273,710 others
I love you more than anyone imagine. Nothing can stop us, I promise you. Best decision I've ever made 🧡
view all 39,264 comments
user1 I feel ashamed
user5 as you should user3 we all should. how could we think it was just a PR. they are in love in love.
user2 You are so so so cute together!
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‘’Lando, fuck, stop!’’ You breathe, hands pushing against his chest as he looked into your eyes, his bright ones a few shades darker than usually. He smirked, wetted his lips before thrusting even harder… Just how you asked.
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daisybianca · 1 year ago
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pairing: sebastian vettel x femalereader
summary: it's totally forbidden. he's older and your childhood and eternal crush, but there's more to that. his best friend--and your dad--is Michael Schumacher. one day, you're sick and stuck in your bed with a fever. he pays you a visit, and then the fever becomes even more brutal. HERE'S PART TWO.
warnings: sexual activities, jealousy, cursing words
(a/n): it's late at night, and I just wrote this, and I'm really, really sleepy. there might be multiple mistakes, grammar, and spelling, but HEY. the tension is still there! <3
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IT HAD BEEN almost five days since everyone got informed that you were down with the flu. Michael Schumacher's beloved daughter was a concern about pretty much everyone in the paddock. Every single person cared deeply about you and Mick. Everybody knew that.
You got quite a few messages and texts from the drivers and team members in the past few days. You answered with polite, brief responses and made sure everyone knew you were just fine with the necessary drugs and medicine prescriptions.
The truth was that you had been feeling okay since a couple of days ago, but chose not to tell anyone. Rest on a bed all day was cool.
Opening your phone, you entered Instagram and wrote a brief thank you text to Daniel Ricciardo, who wished you a fast recovery. Scrolling through the app, you detected a post on your insta feed that was referring to Sebastian Vettell.
Oh, he was tour childhood crush.
Everybody freaking knew that.
You remembered that in an interview a few years ago with your father, a reporter had asked you whether or not you'd like to race for a F1 team and become a driver in the future. You response was fast and was definitely written in history. It almost immediately went viral, and people still talked about it on social media, leading to multiple fans shipping you and the famous world champion.
"No, I don't think I'm going to be a racing driver. But I'll marry one anyway, so it doesn't really matter." The spot played like a old cassette in your mind. A wide grin formed on your father's face and the reporter returned to you and lowered the microphone to reach your tiny height. You were barely 12 years old at that time.
"Who are you referring to? Lewis Hamilton? Do you like him, huh? British, humorous, handsome! He's totally so charming!"
"No, no, no, no!" Your father, Michael, bent over and picked you up in his strong arms. "I'm pretty sure the husband she's talking about is Vettell." He laughed again and you were so confused at the cameras and microphones and tons of people around you.
You were absolutely serious about craving to marry that man. He was something truly angelic to you, even though your innocent 12-year-old mind couldn't fathom how a real marriage worked.
"Oh, I get it! Blondes are better anyway!" The red-head reporter yelled and thanked you for the interview, before moving to the next driver.
You also remembered clearly the very first time you learned about Sebastian dating some girl.
A few of your dad's friends were gathered at your house, along with Sebastian. They talked about some weird strategies you couldn't analyze and had a great time together, but suddenly a question was fired at Sebastian, gaining your full attention.
"Seb, what's up with that blonde you've been going out with since last month?" A guy asked, and your gaze darkened. No one really noticed you eyeing the men behind the kitchen table. But that's what you wanted anyway.
"Who? Hannah? Oh, she seems okay, I guess." He took a sip from his bottle of beer and went on, his eyes lingering around the room. "She's hot, supportive and... not really smart but I don't mind, it's not like I'm going to marry her anyway."
They all laughed at Sebastian's words and you waited until most of the guys moved outside, near the pool in order to prepare the barbecue.
Approaching Sebastian, his eyes automatically landed up on you as he smiled.
"Hey, there, little one!" Sebastian greeted. You hated it when he called you little one. You were 17 at that time. In puberty and almost in adulthood.
"Don't call me that, Seb! I'm not 10 anymore!" You laughed and you got on your knees in front him, next to the couch.
He bent over and applied a peck on your forehead, just like he always adored to do. It was one of his special ways to show his platonic affection to you.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He smiled and got up, walking to the kitchen. He came back a few moments later and handed you an orange juice.
"I'd prefer the beer you're holding, thank you very much." You pushed the plastic carton of juice away and got up to grab the beer from Seb's hands. He tossed it away immediately.
"Your father would kill me, love."
Oh, love.
What a word to hear from his beautiful, full lips.
You bite your lips. Hard.
Your female hormones had been raging since a couple of years ago due to puberty. And Sebastian Vettel was so not helping with that.
You formed a fake sad face, and he sat to the couch again.
You'd love to sit in his lap right now. You used to do that when you were a little. You would wrap your hands around his neck... and stare at his baby blue eyes forever.
If the desire to sit in Seb's lap was a drug, you were totally and undoubtedly a drug addict.
But you couldn't do it now. Sebastian wouldn't let something like that happen.
A few moments later, you were sat beside him on the couch, drinking enormous sips from the juice Seb had offered you.
"It's tasty." You told him after you caught his gaze upon you.
"Um... I guess so."
You blinked a couple of times.
"Soooo... you have a girlfriend?" Your voice was steadier than you thought it'd come out.
"I don't know." He thought for a second. "It's complicated."
You automatically dragged the thin material of your cozy dress lower on your thighs when you caught his eyes traveling their for a tiny, brief moment.
"Are you in love with her?" You asked without hesitating and ignoring the previous incident.
"In love?" He repeated. "Jesus, no. I don’t think I've ever been in love before."
You didn't know if the scorching burning in your chest was a good thing. You were glad he hadn't been in love with anyone before, but simultaneously you weren't.
"Have you?" Sebastian's question caught you off guard.
"Who? Me?" Yes, you wanted to yell at him. But didn't. "No. I'm almost 17 and barely had any experiences in my love life."
"That's not certainly a bad thing." He mumbled, drinking from his beer, his lips almost immediately absorbing the liquid.
Germans loved beers. Sebastian Vettel was no exception to that rule.
"What? Having zero experiences in that area?" You asked.
It wasn't like you hadn't been kissed before. You had. Twice. By two different boys. But nothing compared to the love life other teenagers had the chance of experiencing at your age.
"Yes. It's a good thing, to say at least." His eyes were so threatening. Like there was a hidden meaning behind them.
But maybe it was just something your mind created due to the fact that... this man... oh, Gosh... you had never desired anything or anyone like him.
"Why?" You looked at him and his gaze found yours.
"You should wait for the right one." He smiled simply.
You looked at him and wanted to say that he was all you wanted. But you fucking couldn't. And that was drowning your feelings for him in deep, dark oceans.
"The heart wants what it wants." You pronounced, and Seb didn't quite get your words.
He didn't want to anyway. He knew damn well that your feelings about him were intense since you were a little kid.
The obsessed, recless, lovesick teen. That's what you thought Seb would describe you as. Little did you know he had the exact opposite opinion of you.
Seb was your frustration.
He thought you were like a daughter to him at that time. Little did he know you'd do anything to keep your promise in the future.
Bottled-up feelings. Intense feelings, unexplained issues. He caused that to you. All of it. And he didn't even know.
°•°
You were almost 19 now.
Age was by your side and the age gap between you and Seb wasn't that intense. Only 11 years. You had met multiple couples before with even bigger age difference and they lived with it in happiness and with pride.
Closing your eyes, you inhaled a big breath.
You felt greedy, insatiable.
Seb continued being pretty much the number one reason why you still had a good opinion of the masculine sex but you were careful and avoided showing it to everyone anymore. Paparazzi and the media always tended to make things even bigger.
It was just a few minutes before noon when a knock on the door sounded like a thunderous lightning in your sensitive ears. You hadn't communicated with a singe soul in a couple of days because you wouldn't risk infecting anyone else with the virus, even though you already feeling extremely better.
Beforing bothering to hear you climbing out of the bed, a familiar figure of a male swung the door open and closed it sat afterwards, swaying the keys in his hands.
"Seb?" Your voice was weak as you got out of the coziness of your bed and approached the door. "How the hell do you have my keys?"
The German man turned to you and gestured to be sat on the bed once again, as if you were so fragile and threatened to break just because of a silly virus. Sebastian was so dramatic. But you didn't. complain as you gained your soft spot on the mattress again because his white button-up shirt blurt your thoughts and your vision. He had rolled the light fabric on his wrists, highlighting even more his rough hands.
"I asked Mick to lend them to me so I could pass by here and check up on my favorite girl."
His words buzzed in your ears.
What did he just say?
He used to call you random nicknames, some of them cute and others... kind of silly, but 'my favorite girl'?
That was too much for your complicated mind to analyze.
Sebastian sat down opposite of you.
As he faced you and said absolutely nothings, his state felt scorching. Like a burning flame, attempting to read your thoughts, which were too hard to be hidden between the curtains of your eyelashes.
You had always known he could read you like an open book. And you always hated that exceptional ability of his.
Sometimes, he could unearth thoughts in you that no one else could. Not even your father, nor your brother, and sometimes not even you...
"How are you feeling, (y/n)?" His soft smile faded, blue, intense eyes focused on you, eyeing you from head to toes as if he could detect any physical pain just by observing your body.
"How do I look?" You fired back, without hesitation.
You didn't mean to sound flirtatious at all. But... oh, well, the look on Sebastian's face read something entirely different...
You were kind of mad at him that he chose to pass by your apartment without calling or messaging you first. You tried to make him gather that without saying it, but your tone didn't come out the way that you wanted it to.
"If you ask me, you don't look ill at all." Sebastian crossed his arms, his veins popping out of the white fabric. "You look... I don't know..." He gave in, eyes traveling everywhere in the room but you.
You felt a warm wave of air coming your way from the opened windows, so you chose to unzip your thin cardigan a little bit more. Your grey sweatpants were too hot for you at the moment, but the idea of changing into something more loose didn't occur to you earlier.
"Sebastian, I look like a fucking sloth that's been eating leafy greens, rice and pasta for five days in a row!" You laughed but the blond man didn't seem to be amused by your humorous comment. When you faced his cold state, your expression transformed into something more serious. "Why didn't you call before visiting?"
"The answer is too simple and you're too smart to even ask." He shrugged, annoyed. "Because I know you wouldn't let me come."
You hadn't seen Sebastian like that never before. He seemed... different. He always used to laugh with you, enjoy some movies, play video games or boarding games with you for fun...
But now...
He looked so changed and you can't understand why.
"Why wouldn't I let you come, Seb?"
He took a deep, deep breath before answering. "Because you're just as stubborn as me. I wouldn't let you come and visit me while I'm sick either. Even though you--"
Your phone buzzed with a notification on the nightstand, causing Seb's speech to come to a hault.
Another notification popped up and the screen illuminated once again.
One more and then another one...
You stretched your whole body and grabbed your device. Glancing at the screen, you read five unanswered messages from Lando.
This guy tries to catch up with you always when the time isn't right.
Sebastian got up from the chair near your desk. "Who is it?" He asked, trying to keep the coolness in his tone.
"A friend."
"Is it Norris?" Seb snapped.
You instantly looked up from your screen. "How the hell do you know Norris texts me?"
Sebastian smirked and took a seat close to you on the bed. But he was still too far. You needed him closer to make you forget about your frustration with him.
"A spend three quarters of my day with your brother."
"Oh, Mick, you're such a traitor." You muttered to yourself as you shoved your phone under the sheets.
"He just cares about you. We all do." Seb seemed to hesitated for his upcoming words. "You'll always be our best girl."
Our?
Fuck. It felt like he tried so hard to hide his thoughts.
But they say that the eyes are the window to your soul.
"Seb, are you flirting with me?" You shot, keeping your voice calm and steady.
"You want me to stop?" His answer was instant, causing your entire body and face to redden.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You'd been waiting for this moment almost 20 years and now... that it was finally happening, you didn't know what to do.
"No," you muttered. "But I expected you to do something more than that. You were always the brave one, remember?"
Whatever it took to fulfill your eternal dream.
Seb stood up and did something you never expected him to do. Even though every part of you craved this moment to come in many dreams.
He kneeled in front you.
Fuck.
His blue eyes were the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. "Seb, what are you--"
"Open your legs for me, love." He murmured, looking up at you with his fingers genrly pressing on your bare thigh.
You felt your cheeks redden. Again.
It felt insane how instant your body's reaction was to his words and touch. As if it had a mind of its own.
Seb's voice forced you back to reality when you realized you stared at him speechless. "I won't repeat myself."
You shivered and opened up your legs for him, welcoming his warm and long fingers.
"You won't kiss me?" Your voice was barely audible.
"I'm not going to make it that easy for you, babe."
"W-what do you mean?"
A smirk appeared. "I suppose you'll have to beg for it."
♡♡♡
Part 2.
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something-tofightfor · 24 days ago
Text
Locked Down Part 22: The Decision
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader
Word Count: 10,921
Rating: There's nothing graphic, but we'll go with M because I mention a couple things briefly.
Summary: Being home for the holidays for the first time since the pandemic began is a definite change for you. While Dieter can't be there for Thanksgiving, the promise of his Christmas arrival means that it's time to begin publicly appearing together. It's definitely something that you want, but that doesn't mean it's easy.
Along with navigating an official relationship with Dieter, there's also plenty of other life - and career - choices to consider.  
Author’s note:
Two full years later, here's another chapter. Is anyone still interested? Was anyone waiting to find out what happens next for these two? I hope so. This chapter has been halfway done for about a year, I just got super sidetracked... but not anymore.
I've missed writing for Dieter, so it was nice to get back to this story.
Catch up on the other parts here: Locked Down Masterlist
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Settling into life in Georgia after getting back from Vancouver was more difficult than you thought it would be. Your flight was smooth, and your apartment was just as you’d left it, but from the moment you landed, you felt like you were on the go. 
You scheduled your meeting with Carmen for the Monday after the holiday, which meant that you had plenty of time to prepare yourself for it. In the email confirmation, she included a single extra line of text - It seems like we have a lot more than the job offer to talk about  - but didn’t elaborate, and even reading through it, you couldn’t stop smiling. 
Whatever happened in the future with Dieter, she was partially responsible for it - and you knew that she wouldn’t ever let you forget it. 
When your third COVID test came back negative the Tuesday after you got home, you sent a quick text to Dieter that morning letting him know that you’d be unavailable for part of the day. That done, you headed for your parents’ new place, grocery list in hand. 
Your mother added to it, and without talking about anything in detail, you headed for the store, determined to get in and out as fast as possible so that you could start baking. There won’t be too many people this year, but we still need a ton of food. 
You navigated the aisles with relative ease, thankful for the fact that the mask you wore hid your annoyed expression. But you froze when you got to the checkout line, your eyes locked on one of the tabloids displayed on the endcap. 
Dieter Bravo’s Dating Dilemma was the headline. 
Beneath it was a picture taken in Vancouver - and after you’d left, if his haircut was any indication - of him talking on the phone as he walked down the street.
It was a smaller blurb next to his picture that really caught your attention, though. Instagram posts say one thing, but past behavior says another! And below that was an inset picture of the two of you taken from a distance at the airport - along with two photos of Dieter and other women. Christen and Tina. 
You knew that it was a bad idea. But you still reached for the magazine and tossed it into the cart, fighting back the urge to open it and flip to the article while you waited in line. But that would be weird. 
So you forced yourself to wait until you’d paid for your groceries and were sitting in the parking lot, grabbing for the magazine and finding the correct pages. 
As you read them, you couldn’t contain your laughter. The “article” was little more than a few paragraphs picking apart Dieter’s social media posts, as well as Tina’s, and then pictures next to brief mentions of multiple other women he’d been linked to in the past - including Jennifer Pearson, Carol Cobb and Mara. You - like Christen - were simply listed as a “mystery woman”, and by the time you finished reading, you were upset that you’d shelled out the money to buy it. 
Then, you did the only thing you could think of and held the magazine up next to your face, grinning as you raised your phone and took a selfie. Attaching it to a text message, you sent it to Dieter, along with one sentence: Baby’s first tabloid cover! 
Still laughing as you put the car into drive, you wondered if anything would come of the cover as it related to your social media or privacy. It’s not like some people don’t know who I am, I’ve been on TV for years. 
Just as you pulled into your parents’ driveway, your phone rang, Dieter’s face on the screen. “Hey.” Answering it through your car’s Bluetooth, you put the car back into park, leaning against your seat. “You didn’t need to call.”
“Yeah, I did. I didn’t even know that issue was going to print those. I usually get a heads up.”
“Dieter, it’s fine.” Rubbing at your temple, you grinned. “I’m actually kind of annoyed that I’m listed as a mystery woman. These people must not watch Informal Eats, or know how to use Instagram, because -” 
“You could start tagging yourself in pictures.” He laughed and then you did, too. “The one you sent me would be kind of funny.” You hadn’t even considered that, but if Dieter was suggesting it, it was at least worth a thought. 
“Wouldn’t that be an official confirmation, though? I thought we weren’t doing that.” He sighed, and you heard the honking of a horn on his end of the call. Shit, I didn’t even think about where he might be. “Dieter? Are you busy? I don’t want to keep you.” 
“I’m walking to get coffee.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve got a night shoot tonight and then we’re taking a couple days off for the holiday. They don’t celebrate it up here, but a lot of the cast and crew are American, so…” 
“Who are you spending Thanksgiving with?” Chewing on your lower lip, you waited for his answer. 
“Michael and Jenna. He came in on Monday, and they invited me over for dinner.” Good. “Maybe next year we can spend it together.” His voice was quiet but you heard it nonetheless - his apprehension clear, even over the phone. Does he think I wouldn’t want to? 
“We should see how Christmas and New Year’s go, first.” Trying to decrease the tension, you nodded, eyes on the front door. “You might not like my family, and your friends might not like me.”
“I don’t have any real friends.” He laughed, saying your name again. “I made damn sure of that over the last couple years.” Oh, Dieter. You hadn’t really considered that - you’d seen pictures of him with people, heard stories of the time he spent hanging out with them while he was in LA between jobs. But are they really friends? Or is it just … “That’s the thing. When you’re not on the hard shit all the time, it gives you time to think.”
“Dieter, I -” He cut you off, though, his tone not unkind. 
“No, it’s alright.” The sound of a bell came through the speaker and you knew that the conversation was about to get cut short. “It’s the truth. I have people I can call friends, but it’s not … shit, I’m closer to Jenna and Michael than any of them, and I’ve gotta pay her to -”
“You do not.” Laughing, you sighed. “I mean, yeah you do pay her, but she’d still care about you even if you didn’t. These last few years have been weird for everyone, Dieter. Once you’re home for a while, you’ll see.” I hope I’m right. “I’m helping my mom cook for a while, and then I’m going home, so if you want to give me a call later, you can.” 
“I won’t be done tonight until at least 3, so that would be what, 6 am your time? I’m not going you call you that early.” He scoffed. “Too fuckin’ early.” 
“That’s one thing we can agree on.” Getting out of the car, you popped the trunk open, pausing next to it. “But seriously, call me whenever. I like hearing your voice.” He didn’t reply for a few seconds, and then Dieter said your name, waiting a couple breaths to continue. 
“I’m really sorry that they printed that picture. It’s been a week, and I didn’t think they would.”
“Dieter, you kissed me for a solid two minutes out in the open.” Laughing, you tilted your head back, the memory of his lips on yours widening your smile. “I’m surprised they didn’t post a better one.” He snorted at that, but you didn’t give him a chance to reply. “I’m not going to tag anything or post anything. I’m sure some people have already done it for me, but I have everything on silent except for alerts from people I follow, so if it’s up, I haven’t seen it.” 
“Alright.” He cleared his throat. “What are you making today?”
“Pies.” Pulling the trunk all the way open, you eyed the bags. “And we’re brining the turkey. And I’m sure I’ll have to prep at least one or two other sides, even though we’re only having a couple people over. There’s always way too much food.” 
“I’m sorry I won’t be there to help eat any of it. Or to answer questions.” He meant it - you could tell. And I appreciate it. “I should be.”
“No, you’ll be here for Christmas, and there will be way more people there to explain things to.” Tilting your head to the side to trap your phone between it and your shoulder, you paused. “Sorry, Dieter.” 
“I’m not.” You laughed again, fingers closing around the bag handles. “I’m looking forward to it.” So am I. 
By Monday morning, you were exhausted, despite the fact that you hadn’t done anything all weekend aside from eat and shop. 
You’d had to explain more than a few things to your relatives - a younger cousin in disbelief that you’d actually worked with Krystal Kris, and one of your aunts loudly questioning why, if you were seeing Dieter, he wasn’t there for the holidays. But aside from that, there hadn’t been much in the way of unexpected conversation, or prying from your family. 
It’s just having so much to do around so many people after so long of … Groaning as you tightened your hold on the steering wheel, you shook your head. “Too much socialization.” 
Once your family left after dinner and a few rounds of cards, you’d called Dieter, video chatting with the three of them for a few minutes and telling him to call you when he was back at his rented apartment. And when he’d done that, it had taken a while to rehash the conversations you’d had with your relatives - and the reactions you’d gotten. It would have been easier if you’d been together, but unexpectedly, just telling him about it had helped ease your stress level over how it had gone. And that’s a good thing.
After so much time spent secluded from the majority of the people around you, the holiday season getting started in full swing had been a shock. The stores were busy, the roadways were busy, and people - including some of your family members - were already unpleasant, even though it was still only November. 
And now I’ve got this meeting with Carmen. Pulling into the parking lot, you searched it for her car and parked next to it. You were a few minutes early, but you wanted to get things over with - because you wanted to know whether or not you’d still have a job in the coming months. Or if I’ll be starting over from scratch.
As you walked toward the doors, your phone rang, the sound pulling you from your thoughts. There was a familiar picture on the screen, and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you answered. “Dieter, you’re calling early. Why are -”
“It is really fucking early, but I wanted to wish you good luck.” He sounded half asleep and you could picture him, stretched out on his side and still under the blankets - hair wild and lines marking his skin from pressing his face against his wrinkled pillowcase. “I’m going back to sleep as soon as we hang up, but -”
“Thank you.” Leaning back against the low wall, you nodded. “I’m happy to hear from you.” 
“They’d be stupid not to agree to let you move somewhere and keep working.” He was mumbling, obviously still half asleep. “But even if they don’t, I’ll take care of you until you find something. Want to.” What? You froze at the words, unsure of whether or not Dieter even realized he’d said them, but when he continued, you knew that he had. “Won’t be able to afford you using Uber Copter every day, but…” 
A loud burst of laughter broke the tension and moments later he joined in, the sound low and rumbling. I miss you so much, Dieter. “Go back to bed. You won’t need to take care of me. Promise.” 
“I love you.” You didn’t say it every time you hung up, or at the end of every text conversation, so hearing the words from Dieter still hit just as hard as they had the first time. Who am I kidding? They always will. 
“I love you too, Bravo. Now go back to sleep. Can’t have you looking like a raccoon on set today.” 
You hung up moments later, and after giving yourself a few seconds to compose yourself - and to remind yourself to bring up Dieter’s offer to take care of you at a later date - you headed inside the building and straight for the elevator. One thing at a time, though. 
Carmen was waiting for you in her office, her desktop covered with folders and a few stacks of paper. “It’s good to see you again.” She looked up at you, gesturing for you to sit. “Have a good weekend?”
“I did. This is the first real holiday I’ve spent at home since before the pandemic.” Sinking into the chair across from hers, you scooted it in, resting your elbows on the desk’s edge. “It’s weird to get things back to almost normal, though.” She agreed, her smile understanding. “How about yours?” 
“It was great. Just the two of us.” She sighed. “I cooked and we just watched movies, and it was amazing to turn off my phone and laptop for a couple days.” She sighed, flipping through the papers directly in front of her. “Now I just have to get through everything for the next couple weeks, and then Nate and I are going to be in Rome for the holidays.” Oh, I didn’t know that. 
“Well, then…” Licking your lips, you took a deep breath. “Let’s not waste any time.” The glint in her eyes told you that she’d been waiting for you to start speaking, and so you didn’t disappoint. “I’m…” Glancing down at your hands for a few seconds and then reaching up to touch the pendant you wore, you steeled yourself for what was coming next. “Carmen, Dieter and I are together. We pretty much have been since… well since Christmas last year, but we just made it official when I was in Texas.” 
“Congratulations.” Her smile grew, the woman reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “That’s got to be the worst kept secret in the world, but…” Both of you laughed, Carmen pulling her hand back and picking up one of the folders before holding it out to you. “You seem happier.” 
“I am.” Taking the folder, you flipped it open, eyeing the same contract that she’d already emailed to you. “But the reason that I wanted to meet with you in person was because I have a couple things that I’d like to talk with you about before I sign anything.” You tapped the papers. “There’s not really much in here about -”
“Are you quitting?” She leaned in, frowning. “Informal Eats wouldn’t be -” 
“I don’t want to quit, no.” Head shaking back and forth, you blew out a breath. “I just … I guess the only way to say it is to say it.” Here goes nothing. “I’m thinking about moving out of Atlanta, Carmen. Either to New York City or to Los Angeles, and I … I guess I’m wondering if it would be possible for me to keep doing what I’ve been doing, but not live here.” You paused, trying to gauge her reaction, but the Carmen’s face was impassive. “You’re based in Atlanta, and I know that won’t change, but …” 
She said your name, the look in her eyes changing to one of amusement. “Are you moving in with Dieter?” Well that was blunt. 
“I’m thinking about it.” You covered your face with both hands, the folder dropping to the desktop. “He’s got a house in LA and an apartment in New York, and he offered me either of them if I could work something out with you. I know there’s offices in -”
“Congratulations.” Carmen leaned back, tilting her head to one side. “There wouldn’t be any relocation assistance or anything, but …” She shrugged, wrinkling her nose. “Just because I’m based out of Atlanta, that doesn’t mean that you need to be.” She gestured at the paperwork on her desk. “Why would you even think that it would be a problem?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.” You frowned. “I guess because I’ve always lived here, and this is where I signed the first contract, and I started out … here, so…” So I just assumed I had to stay. “I will be honest with you, though, Carmen. At some point, I’m going to want to do something else, and I have been actively looking into more projects like the one I worked on in England.” You held up the folder again. “But according my agent, the way this is structured, it’d be easy for me to find something in the months that I’m not shooting the show, if I wanted to.” 
She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “We can amend the contract.” The woman took a deep breath, pressing her lips together. “I can have it rewritten, so it’s only one season at a time instead of two. The number of episodes per season will be the same, and we can make it so that you just have to electronically sign the -” 
“No.” You made the decision almost immediately, leaning forward and resting your hand atop the document. “No, I’ll commit to two more seasons. Sixteen total episodes.” Flipping through the pages, you ran your finger down the outline. “Starting in February and running through until next January?” She nodded when you glanced up. “I can do that. I want to do that. I love the show and I love working with you and the crew, but I also… I love him, and being so far away all the time is…” 
“I know.” She smiled, opening her desk drawer and reaching inside for a pen. “The one good thing this pandemic did was show us that we can do most of this shit remotely. Hell, you could move to Minnesota and you’d still be able to keep your job, as long as you could check in when we needed you to.” She grinned, holding out the pen. “Here.” 
“It can’t be this easy.” You took the pen, though, drawing in a deep breath and holding it, meeting her eyes. “Carmen?” 
“It is this easy. The only thing that would change is the airport you fly out of and back into at the end of your trips.” Her smile widened. “There is one thing, though.” Of course there is. “I want to meet him. I am the one that got you the job on Cliff Beasts, and I think I deserve to -” 
Your laughter drowned out her speech, and as you leaned forward, putting the tip of the pen to the paper, she laughed, too. “Yeah, you do, Carmen.” Finishing your signature and adding the date, you dropped the pen and stood, waiting for Carmen to do the same. “He’s coming here for Christmas. I know you’re going to Rome, but if he’s here before you leave, you can meet him then.” 
“Good.” She stepped around the desk and toward you, the woman holding her arms out. “Congratulations on your contract renewal.” Yeah. You were surprised at how much relief you felt at the realization that you were gainfully employed for another year - and that you hadn’t had to sacrifice either your job or the potential to be closer to Dieter to accept the position. “And congratulations on Dieter, too.”
When you hugged her, it was a tight one, the embrace similar to the ones you’d shared before - after meeting for the first time, after filming your pilot, after signing your other contracts - and you were thrilled that it felt just as good that time, too. 
The two of you separated and when you met her eyes again, you were smiling - and so was Carmen. “I’d ask you to come out and grab a drink with me, but…” You glanced at the clock. “It’s barely 10 in the morning, so…”
“Yeah, I’ve got a bunch of stuff to get through today anyway.” She pushed you away gently, her gaze still focused on you. “Plus, from what it sounds like, you need to start figuring out where you’ll be living a couple months from now.” At that, you froze, both eyes going wide. 
Yeah… I guess I do. 
— 
The closer it got to the holidays, the more nervous you were. 
It wasn’t that you were worried about seeing Dieter again, because you knew that he was just as excited as you were. It wasn’t even that you were worried about him meeting your family and some of your friends, because he’d told you that he looked forward to it. 
You were afraid that when Dieter saw how you lived, he’d change his mind about everything. You’d only known each other in temporary housing; rooms designed for short-term use, and the idea of Dieter in your space - using your bathroom and making coffee in your kitchen and sleeping in your bed - was overwhelming. Because we’re used to different things.
You decorated before he got there; stringing brightly colored lights around your windows and on the branches of your tree. Ornaments joined them, and so did a few garlands strategically placed throughout the main rooms of your place. And when you were done, everything felt homey, the soft glow of the tiny lights casting warmth throughout the space and making you feel better. I didn’t realize how much I missed decorating last year.
In the days leading up to Dieter’s arrival, you got some shopping done. Not only did you restock your fridge and cupboards, but you bought gifts, too, figuring that you wouldn’t want to go out to too many places with him there. It wasn’t because you wanted to hide Dieter. You wanted him to feel comfortable no matter where he was, and stores and malls would be busy so close to the holidays. And I don’t want to put him on the spot if anyone recognizes him. 
You were checking things over in the few minutes before you had to leave to pick Dieter up from the airport when you heard someone knock. I’m not expecting anyone. Frowning, you made your way from your bedroom to the front door, peeking through the peephole before opening it. 
All you saw were flowers - a large bouquet, from the looks of it, and so you sighed, pulling the door open. “Hello? Can I -”
“Special delivery.” You froze at the sound of the voice, eyes going wide as you watched the flowers move to one side to give you a glimpse at the man carrying them. “Thought I’d bring them to you myself instead of having ‘em delivered.” His smile widened but you couldn’t move, instead just staring. Dieter’s here. I was supposed to pick him up, and - 
“You’re here. But I was just getting ready to … how? How are you …” 
“Took an earlier flight.” He bit down on the inside of his lower lip, the look in his eyes shifting to one of disbelief. “I wanted to surprise you.” 
“You did.” You finally moved, reaching out and taking the flowers from him before turning to put them on top of the table against the wall. “Dieter, this is the best fucking surprise ever.” Once both of your hands were free, you reached for him and twisted your fingers in the material of his jacket, pulling him into your apartment. “Come here, Bravo.” 
Dieter reached behind him and grabbed the handle of his suitcase, dragging it after him and over the sill, only letting it go to pull on the knob to close the door behind him. Then he reached for you. 
When his arms wound around you, you sighed deeply, turning your head so that you could press your cheek against the front of his shoulder. Closing your eyes, you just held him, focusing on the way that even though he’d just come from an airport - and a cross country flight - he still smelled like Dieter, and you knew that within a night or two, so would your bed and your blankets. He’s in my apartment. He’s here. “I’m happy to see you, too.” He murmured the words, one hand moving up the center of your back and coming to rest between your shoulders. “You scared me for a second there.” 
“I did?” You stepped backwards without letting him go. “I didn’t mean to. I was just … shit. I guess I was in airport mode.”
“That’s one of the reasons I did what I did.” He moved his hands to your arms and slid them down, squeezing your hands before he let go. “Didn’t want you to have to go anywhere near that goddamn place so close to Christmas.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “No, seriously. I know it’s a fucking nightmare. I filmed a movie here a while ago, and it was bad, and that was on a regular day.” 
He toed his shoes off, and you watched as he looked around, eyes narrowed and his tongue visible where it poked into his cheek. He hates it. It’s too small. “How was your flight?” You were nervous, and you knew that it was irrational. You and Dieter had been through plenty together, and had gone much longer between visits before. Do I really feel like this because of my apartment? “Did -”
“Can I tell you something?” He turned to face you, putting one hand on his hip. “I’ve seen pictures of this place, and I’ve seen it when we FaceTime and …” He wet his lips. “I knew what it looked like, but …” Dieter moved closer, both of his hands rising so that he could hold your jaw between his palms. “It’s even better than I thought.” 
“What?” You were confused, even as his thumbs swept over your skin. “Better? It’s just an apartment.” 
“Yeah, but it belongs to you.” He leaned closer, your foreheads touching. “And you invited me to see it and to meet your family, and …” He hummed, lips moving against yours. “And I still can’t fuckin’ believe it.” Believe it, Dieter. You wanted to laugh at that, but he didn’t let you, the gentle press of his mouth turning more insistent as he kissed you for the first time since Vancouver. “Love you.” He paused long enough to speak, nodding twice as he said it. “I’m so goddamn excited to be here with you.” 
“Yeah.” You kissed him one last time and then pushed him away with one hand. “But we’re going to be busy, Dieter. We have a couple parties and the actual holiday, and -”
“We’re not busy tonight though, right?” No, we’re not. “Because I’m pretty sure that I saved us a couple hours by getting here early.” His smile widened, and Dieter’s gaze dropped from your face to your body and then rose, the look in his eyes changing to a heated one that you knew well. “And that means we have extra time now.” 
“Do you have something in mind?” You had an idea where he was going, but giving him shit was something that you enjoyed. “Do you want a tour of my place? Or need to take a nap? Or want to - “
“Tour later.” He stepped forward and you backed up, heartbeat thumping. “And I’ll sleep tonight. But right now…” He sucked air through his teeth, hands moving down and to your hips. “I’ve been thinking about you since I dropped you off at that airport, and I wanna do something about it.” He slipped his fingertips beneath the top elastic of your leggings, the warmth of his skin making you gasp. “If that’s alright with you.” 
“The bedroom is -” He shook his head, cutting you off. “Ok, the couch -”
“No.” Dieter chuckled, more of his fingers pushing between the material and your skin and then pushing downward. “No, you’ve got a counter right behind you, and if you sit on it, you’re the perfect height.” You gasped again and felt your stomach lurch, but instead of letting him continue to remove your pants, you grabbed for him, one hand making its way to the tangle of curls on his head and the fingers of the other curling around his arm and gripping him tightly. That was accompanied by a bruising kiss, Dieter meeting you in the middle with his lips already parted, his tongue peeking through. 
It was shocking to you how much you’d missed him, and how much missing him was amplified by having him right in front of you - and in your arms again. The kiss went on, turning sloppier by the second, and you felt the elastic snap back into place when Dieter moved his hands up, sliding them along your sides and pushing your shirt up with them. 
You didn’t want to let go of his hair, but you did, raising your arms above your head so that when he pulled away to breathe, breaking the kiss, he was able to remove it completely. He touched you greedily, fingers stroking over your bared skin, and when he ducked his head down so that his mouth could trek across your upper chest, you tilted your head back and sighed, one hand gripping the edge of the counter and the other once again tangled in his hair. 
“Missed you,” he mumbled without backing off. “Missed you so goddamn much.” You agreed, looking down again, and when Dieter straightened up all the way, you saw that his eyes were shining. “Never missed anybody as much as I miss you.” Oh, Dieter. 
It was a shocking admission - and entirely unexpected coming from Dieter, but it was genuine, his jaw clenching as you absorbed the words. “I love you too, Dieter. And I was going to wait to tell you until later, but …” Biting your lip, you took a deep breath. “But if it’s alright with you, when I come out for New Year’s, I think I might stay a while, so you won’t have to miss me.” 
He hadn’t been expecting those words from you, either, but his reaction was immediate. Dieter encircled you with his arms, laughing as he pulled you against his chest. “Alright with me? Fuck, there’s nothing that would make me happier.” His voice was shaky, and even though you knew it was because he was just happy, it made you sniffle, too, as you closed your eyes and hugged him tightly. “Bring your whole fucking apartment if you want.” 
“I mean, I won’t have time to pack it all with you here, but…” You laughed again, meeting his eyes and reaching up to swipe away a tear from one of them. “My lease is up in February, and I really don’t want to sign another one, so…” 
“Yeah, I know.” He rolled his eyes and turned his head so that he could kiss the heel of your hand. “I’m just saying.” The two of you stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, and then it was Dieter that spoke, brows knit together in thought. “You mean it? You want to come stay with me?” 
“I do.” Twisting a curl near his temple around one finger, you nodded. “We’ve only been official for a little while, but it’s been … I’ve… we’ve …” 
“We coulda been together before I left England.” He shrugged. “I was just following your lead.” You groaned when he winked, but Dieter went on. “I get it. I want you there, too.” He tilted his head to the side, not breaking eye contact. “But I’m not easy to live with.” 
That made you laugh, and you waved him off, looking away briefly and then back at him. “I think if we made it through quarantine and not being allowed to leave each other’s presence for more than a few hours at a time, we can handle living in the same house and having options, Dieter. We’ll be fine. Besides,” you leaned closer, releasing your hold on his hair and gently tapping his cheek with your palm. “You’ve got a guesthouse, right?” 
That got a bigger laugh out of him, and Dieter lowered his head as he agreed with you, his hold on your hips tightening just enough that you could feel it. “I do.” When he looked up, all signs of amusement were gone from his features and he instead looked serious, his attention focused. “Now how about you get up on that counter and let me show you exactly what one of the benefits of living with me will be.” 
“Pants on or off?” Your desire for him grew again, warmth filling your belly and spreading. You’d never tire of Dieter looking at you the way he was that night, and part of you knew that he knew it, too. He needs to know it. 
“Off.” He nodded, stepping backwards. “All the way off.” You did as he asked without question, which left you only in your bra. You were quiet while he grabbed for one of your chairs and dragged it closer to you, but you gasped in shock when he sat down backwards on it, leaning forward and pressing his chest against the tall back, both of his hands reaching out to settle on your calves. “Get comfortable, because you’re gonna be here a while.” He arched a brow, locking eyes with you before he dropped his gaze to your waist and then lower while pulling your legs apart. “Fuck.” 
You pressed your lips together and then inched forward, hooking your legs over his shoulders and using both hands to brace yourself on the countertop. “That’s fine by me, Dieter.” The chair scooted forward a few more inches, which brought him closer, too, and when Dieter nodded, turning his head to the right and licking the inside of your thigh, you tensed, fingers curling against the laminate. Oh, that feels incredible… I missed him so much. 
“Mmmmhmm.” He turned his head the other way, and repeated the motion on your other thigh, his hands sliding up your bare legs and to your hips, pulling you even closer. “Fucking perfect.” 
— 
You hadn’t wanted to go, but Dieter insisted that the two of you head out to a get together one of your friends was hosting a few days before Christmas. 
It was at a local restaurant, and the text message you’d received explained that the entire upper floor was reserved for your group. The sentiment was nice, and you had gotten along well with her for a while, but you knew exactly why she’d reached out after so long. 
“Meg wants to meet you, Dieter.” You were getting ready in the bathroom while he got dressed in your bedroom, both of you fresh out of the shower. “She wants to use it as an opportunity to network, and I’ll bet you $100 that she flirts with you right in front of me within the first fifteen minutes of being introduced.” 
He poked his head in a few seconds later, and you caught his frown as a reflection in the mirror. “How does she know I’m here?” 
“I don’t know, maybe because of the pictures you posted the other day from the Coke museum and the aquarium?” Arching a brow at him, you tilted your head to the side. “Or the caption that very specifically said ‘a much different world of Coke than I’m used to’ with the emoji that’s laughing so hard it’s -”
“Ok, yeah, that might have been what did it.” He fully entered the room, and you took a few seconds to watch as he wrinkled his nose, raising both hands to drag them through his hair and push it into even more disarray. “I still think we should go, though.” 
“We’re going, Dieter. You said you wanted to, and that’s fine, I’m just telling you what to expect. This isn’t LA or New York, and the people I know here aren’t exactly drowning in celebrities, so … just be prepared for people to be a little overeager to impress you.” 
It would be the first real test of your relationship, and the first time Dieter met anyone in your life. And the fact that we’ve known each other for so long at this point makes that feel… fuck. It’s strange. You’d existed in a bubble of sorts for almost the entirety of your relationship, and with him visiting you, that was coming to an end in a very final way. 
“‘I’ll be fine.” He stepped up behind you, one hand on your shoulder and the other arm winding around your body to pull you back against his chest. “And so will you.” Dieter spoke into your ear, his voice quiet. “And if she flirts, I’ll shut that shit down right away, because -”
“No.” You bit your lip, turning toward him. “Don’t.” He was confused, but you didn’t let him stay that way. “I think it might be funny to watch her try to handle you.” 
“Handle me?” He scoffed. “You can barely handle me and you’ve known me for over a year.” That made you laugh, and you used one hand to pat Dieter’s chest gently. “What?”
“I learned a long time ago that handling you is impossible.” You blinked slowly, trying to school your expression into nonchalance. “I tolerate you.” It took about three seconds for Dieter to respond, and when he did you caught the roll of his eyes before he leaned in, mouth meeting yours. 
“That’s what you call it now?” He mumbled between kisses, his hands roaming over you. “Tolerating me?” You nodded, winding your arms around his neck and laughing against his lips. “Fucking unbelievable.” 
Having Dieter in Atlanta was better than you could have ever hoped for, and it seemed like he was enjoying himself, too. You’d spent plenty of time alone together, but he’d also wanted to go out and explore, asking you to show him the parts of the city and suburbs you liked most. It was easy to blend into the larger than usual holiday crowds in public places, and when Dieter wore a hat pulled down low over his ears and slipped on a pair of glasses, it disguised him almost completely. 
He wasn’t doing it on purpose, either, and that was what made it better. 
You hoped that you were able to settle into LA just as easily, though you didn’t think it would happen quite so fast. We’ll see. You pulled back with a sigh, closing your eyes. “As much as I’d love to stand here and do this all night, if you want to go to this thing, I need to finish getting ready.” You looked down and then gestured to your robe and slippers. “I don’t think I pull off this look as well as you do.”
“No.” He backed away, arms dropping from you before he raised one ringed finger and pointed it at you. “You pull it off much better.” It was a joke, but at the same time, you understood that it meant that Dieter truly didn’t care what you wore or how you looked, and if you chose to actually go out in public wearing the robe, he wouldn’t have batted an eye. “But I should probably put on a shirt to go into a restaurant, so I’ll stop annoying you now and go do that.” 
He winked and then turned away from you. As he made it to the doorway, you called out his name, waiting until he’d turned back in your direction to say anything else. “I never want you to stop annoying me.” 
— 
You’d barely taken a step into the room, and you were already ready to leave. But we’d have to wait for another Uber, and it’s surge pricing and … It wasn’t that it was loud in the room, because it wasn’t, or that it was overly crowded, because it was still early and people were filtering in - it was just that you knew exactly what you’d be dealing with for the following few hours. 
Dieter was beside you when you headed over to the bar, and after you both ordered, you carried your drinks over to a small, raised table with a good vantage point. You spent a few minutes pointing people out to Dieter, but after the third “I met them in college,” you stopped, shaking your head. “Are you even going to remember any of these names if you talk to them? It’s pointless, you won’t ever see them again after tonight.”
“I will.” He sipped his drink, angling his body toward you and resting his elbow on the table. “It’s just like memorizing lines.” That made sense to you, and you were somewhat irritated that you hadn’t made the same connection. 
“This feels kind of like that first Thanksgiving after high school where everyone’s home from college and pretending they didn’t just see each other a few weeks earlier.” He drank again, watching you from over the rim of his glass. 
“Or like a fucking Hollywood circlejerk where everyone’s too fucking excited to tell everyone else that they know someone and can get them in touch with -” You snorted, reaching up to cover your mouth to hide your laugh. 
“It’s so good to see you!” A cheerful voice interrupted Dieter, and when you looked toward the source, you saw Meg approaching the table, a necklace of blinking Christmas lights resting against her chest and highlighting the low-cut top she wore. “I’m glad you made it.” You caught the way her gaze moved from you to Dieter and barely stopped the roll of your eyes at how obvious it was. “And you, too. It -”
“Dieter Bravo.” He held his hand out, smiling. “Are you the one that organized this?” The smile stayed on his face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nice to meet you. Meg?” She took his hand and shook it, her giggle audible even over the music playing through the speakers. 
“That’s me.” She bit her lip and tossed her hair over one shoulder. “I’ve met you before though. When you filmed here? We were eating dinner at the same restaurant, and I sent a drink over to your table.” She cleared her throat, leaning in, and for a few seconds, you were horrified at the thought that she was going to remind him of something happening between them. That would ruin everything, even though it was so long ago. “You came over and talked for a few minutes, and -”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember that.” He pulled his hand back, lifting his drink to sip from it. “That was a while ago, and I probably had a lot going on.” You watched her recoil slightly, Meg’s eyes dropping and then rising again to meet Dieter’s as he reached over to put his arm around you. “Thanks for the drink, though.” 
It shocked you how dismissive he was being, because you’d never seen Dieter act that way before. Not even with David. “I… you’re welcome.” Meg took a long drink from her wine glass, and you could tell she was nervous - and a little surprised at his reaction. “How long are you in town for?” She looked at you then, wetting her lips. “Are you back for good? You’ve been busy; it feels like you haven’t been home since before the pandemic.” I didn’t know you kept tabs on my travels.
“I’m back for a little while.” You finally spoke, shifting your feet and shrugging your shoulders. “I just signed a new contract for the show, so I’ll be working on that starting next February.” But I won’t be doing it from here. “And Dieter’s just here for Christmas. He wanted to meet my family and couldn’t make it out last month.” 
“I was filming.” He grinned again, wiggling his eyebrows. “TV show.” You knew what he was doing - trying to throw Meg off balance by flipping between being aloof and almost too friendly within the same conversation. I think it’s working. “But we’re going to LA for New Year’s, so I won’t be out here for too long.” He laughed, his fingers circling slowly against your lower back. “And between the three of us? I hope she likes LA enough to consider staying.” 
His words surprised you almost as much as they surprised Meg, and you knew with certainty that that was exactly what Dieter had hoped for. Sneaky little shit. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” You turned your head and Dieter did the same, meeting your gaze. I see you, Bravo. “But we’ll see.” 
He smirked for a second and then closed the distance between you, lips soft when they met yours. “We will.” He spoke so that only you could hear, and when you looked back at Meg a few moments later, you saw that her eyes were wide. That just confirmed everything even more than anything we’ve said here. “You married, Meg? Or dating anyone?” 
It took all of your self control to keep from laughing at Dieter’s abrupt change in topic, but when she spluttered out a response and then pointed back over her shoulder, you followed the gesture, moving in your seat to see who she was pointing at. “I hope it’s not weird, but I’m here with Sam, and -” 
You froze at her words, and suddenly it all made sense. Dieter stiffened beside you, and when you reached for your drink, your heart was pounding. Sam as in… fuck. It made sense - you’d all known each other for years, but no part of you had realized that Meg and Sam had kept in touch. Or that they liked each other enough to date. He told me last month that … what the fuck. 
She excused herself to go and get him, and once she walked away, Dieter pivoted toward you, concern written all over his face. “You alright? That went from zero to fucking 60 in -”
“I’m fine.” You paused. “It’s going to be a little weird for you to meet the last guy I was with, but … it just took me by surprise.” Dieter’s other hand rose, fingers bent, and he trailed his knuckles against your cheek. “And she was flirting with you, just like I said she would.” 
“She was, but do you blame her?” He fluttered his eyelashes, the genuine smile back on his face. “It’s me after all.” That made you laugh, some of the tension leaving your body. “And it won’t be weird. I promise.” He shrugged and then leaned in so that he could speak directly into your ear. “Think about how fucking weird it’s going to be for him to meet me, though.” 
You hadn’t considered that - but he was right. It will so much weirder for Sam. Dieter kissed the space just in front of your ear before straightening up and scanning the room. You did the same, eyeing the buffet table set up a few feet away and frowning. I wish we’d stopped to grab snacks. “What was that, by the way? I’ve never seen you act that way with anyone, and I’m surprised you were so quick to pull the I’m not into this card.” 
“She fucked herself over.” He sniffed and finished his drink, tossing the last swallow back before sucking an ice cube between his teeth. “Flirting is one thing but being fucking rude to you and bringing up sending over that drink? Fuck that. It’s a game to her, and that’s not what you are to me.” 
His words hit hard. Dieter’s playfulness was one of the things that drew you to him, as was his sense of humor and his ability to read a situation and play off of it. But with you, from almost the beginning, he’d been honest with you, speaking his mind and giving things to you straight. He’d never led you on or made your friendship the butt of a joke, and while you hadn’t thought he would do it regarding your relationship, either, that night was proof. I needed that. I needed to know. 
“Thank you, Dieter.” You reached out to take his hand, linking your fingers with his and rubbing your thumb over the ring you’d borrowed. “That means a lot.” He squeezed your hand and then lifted both of them, bringing the back of yours up so that he could kiss it. You were no stranger to Dieter’s tiny moments of intimacy, but after keeping yourselves hidden for so long, them happening in public took you by surprise. 
Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention, and you sighed as you watched Sam and Meg heading toward you, their shoulders touching as they walked side by side. You wondered how long they’d been dating, or if they’d talk about it, and then you wondered if it was strange for you to ask. But she said she was here with him, not that they were dating. Maybe I jumped to conclusions. 
Sam spoke first, saying hello to you and then sticking his hand out to Dieter as he made an introduction. Dieter moved smoothly, keeping your fingers linked as he reached out to shake Sam’s with his free one. “It’s nice to meet you, Dieter.” He retracted his hand and then leaned against the table, nodding before he looked over at you. “And it’s good to see you again, too. Sorry I haven’t had a chance to get ahold of you, the holidays are just…” He rolled his eyes. “You know.” 
“I do.” You exhaled slowly, giving him a wary smile before you turned your attention to Meg. “We were supposed to meet for lunch, and we just … haven’t.” She seemed surprised, her lips parting as her eyes flicked to Dieter. He doesn’t care, but nice try. “I didn’t know the two of you were still in touch.” You arched a brow and sipped your drink as your attention returned to your ex. “You didn’t say anything about it when we last talked. How’d this happen?”
“We did a lot of Zoom game nights.” Sam reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. “We couldn’t do bar trivia because everything was closed, so…” He shrugged. “Kept in touch that way for a while, and then a couple weeks ago...” Sam trailed off, and even though he looked slightly uncomfortable, he didn’t try and overexplain anything.
“We had our first few conversations over a balcony wall.” Dieter rolled his eyes. “Well, after we met in the hotel lobby, anyway. We weren’t allowed to leave our rooms for two weeks before we started working on the movie, and she was in the room next door.” 
“You make it sound like you settled for talking to me, Dieter.” Nudging him with your shoulder, you laughed. “Ouch.” 
“You were quarantined with him?” Meg leaned in, her attention fully on you. “Oh, I didn’t know that.” 
“It’s all going to be talked about in the documentary.” You scratched the side of your neck. “I can’t really go into it now, but yeah. I only got the job working for Cliff Beasts because I got sick filming my show, and got stuck in the hotel. So I actually ended my quarantine just as the cast got there to start theirs, and it all worked out.” 
“I’d sit on my balcony and watch her walking around the hotel property.” Dieter let go of your hand and put both of his on the table. “She was the only one that wasn’t hotel staff that wasn’t stuck in their damn room. It was fucking depressing.” 
“We got through it, though.” You finished your drink, too, and then pushed the empty glass to the center of the table. “And now we’re here.” Sam nodded, eyeing you and then looking over at Dieter. What are you thinking about? 
“Is it weird for you, Dieter?” He smiled, nose wrinkling. “To be standing here, talking to -”
“No.” There was no gestation on Dieter’s part when he answered, the hand that had been holding yours moving to your back. “Not at all. I’ve heard a lot about you, and I figured we’d meet at some point.” That surprised Sam - and Meg, too, the woman sucking in a breath as she straightened up. “And since we’re out of here in a couple days, now’s as good a time as any.” 
“She’s going to Los Angeles for New Year’s.” Meg reached over and touched Sam’s arm. “And maybe for longer.” Well shit. You hadn’t counted on her bringing it up again so quickly - or having to explain yourself to your ex. But I’m going to have to tell my family so fuck it, I guess. 
But as silence hung between the four of you, you felt yourself sway, anxiety building in your chest. It’s too much. It’s happening too fast. 
“Well, this whole thing is weird for me, to be perfectly honest.” You reached for your glass again, picking it up and then staring down into it, like your wish for a refill would make one appear. “But yes. Meg’s right. Christmas in Georgia. New Year’s and beyond in California.” You set the glass down and then backed up, lifting both hands. “Right now, though? I’m going to get another drink.” 
You left the table without saying anything else, heart pounding in your chest while you headed for the bar. What the fuck was that? You’d gone from being totally at ease and joking around with Dieter to being overwhelmed in seconds, even though you had no real reason to be. 
It wasn’t that telling Sam bothered you. It wasn’t even that the two men were face to face. So what is it then? Why do I feel this way? You ordered your drink and then waited patiently, fingertips tapping on the bartop. 
“Are you Dieter Bravo?” A woman’s high-pitched voice reached your ears, and when you turned toward the sound, drink in hand, you saw that one of the other party guests was gaping at Dieter, who stood a few feet away, one hand in his pocket. “I loved you in -”
“Yes. I am. Thanks.” He flashed her a quick smile, and then pointed at you. “I’m just trying to get to my girlfriend, though.” It was the first time he’d referred to you in that way, and even though the crowd was loud, you heard him clearly. He called me his … 
Your unease faded as Dieter approached you, concern in his eyes. “Dieter, I -” 
“Come on.” He reached out, taking your hand and leading you away from the bar. “Come with me.” He opened a door that you hadn’t noticed that led out  into a back hallway. Once the door shut behind you, he backed away and leaned against the wall, loosely crossing his arms. “I’m not going to ask if you’re alright, but I’m going to ask if this is better.” 
“Yes.” You closed your eyes and nodded. It is. “Yeah, Dieter, I don’t … I don’t know what happened in there. It -”
“I know exactly what happened.” He said your name, waiting until you opened your eyes to say anything more. “You got ambushed. And you had to answer questions you weren’t expecting because you shouldn’t  have expected ‘em five minutes after you walked into a Christmas party.” He moved closer to you, reaching for the drink you held and taking it from you. “It wasn’t what you answered that fucked you up, it was that you felt like you had to tell them anything in the first place.” He took a drink and then handed it back to you, waiting. 
“I didn’t have to answer. I could have changed the subject. I should have. But when she said she was here with Sam, it threw me off, and I felt like I should say something back.” You couldn’t even pinpoint why, exactly, but it was the truth. “Dieter, what if this happens in California? These are just people I know. Out there, it’ll be people you’ve worked with or might work with in the -”
“I don’t care.” He reached for you, putting one hand on each shoulder and squeezing. “I won’t care. Say whatever the fuck you want. That’s what I’ve done for my entire career.”
“But I’m not you.” You felt tears welling up in your eyes. “And if this is what happens to me at a party like this with people I know, LA is going to … fuck, Dieter. What if I fuck it all up? I’m going to embarrass you.” That’s it. This… this makes it real, and when it’s real, it might fail, and I don’t want that failure to be my fault.
“It takes a hell of a lot to embarrass me.” Leaning in, he pressed his forehead to yours and shook his head slowly. “I almost fucking died in front of you, and you’re worried about saying too much or the wrong thing to someone you may never see again? Fuck that. And fuck anyone that makes you feel like that.” Dieter’s hands slid from your shoulders to your biceps, the motion soothing. “Sam congratulated us, by the way. And I think it surprised Meg that he’s cool with it, but they still walked away together, so… who knows.” 
That made you laugh, and after you took a deep breath to steady yourself, you cleared your throat. “Maybe she thought that I’d get jealous seeing them together, and it would leave you free.” He widened his eyes and then made a face. What, is she not your type? “I heard what you called me by the bar, Dieter. I … I didn’t realize how much I’d like hearing that.”
“After telling you I love you, calling you my girlfriend seems pretty damn inadequate, but…” He lifted and then dropped his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “For now, it’s the truth.” For now? What does that mean? “It’s going to be fine. All of it. I don’t care if every single one of those people out there fucking hates me. I’m here for you and for your family. They’re the important ones.” 
Dieter wet his lips and then pulled the lower one back between his teeth, frowning as he eyed you. “What?” You took a small drink, swallowing and then taking a deep breath. “What’s that look for, Dieter?” 
“I knew what coming out here meant.” He gestured at the door behind you with one hand, his rings catching the light, silver flashing as his hand moved. “I knew that being here unannounced and ‘unplanned’ was going to get people talking. I can handle it, because I’m used to it, but I didn’t… fuck, I didn’t think about you not being used to it or the attention or the questions. I’m fucking sorry. I should have. I’ve been deflecting bullshit for years, and it’s like breathing for me, but you … shit.” 
“Dieter, no, it’s fine. I’m… I’m going to have to get used to it, right?” You rubbed at the bridge of your nose with two fingers, sighing. “There’s a public aspect that comes along with being with you, and even though some people are familiar with me, if I go places or to premieres or events with you, I’m going to get asked questions, and -”
“If?” He scoffed, his smile returning as he stepped closer. “You’re not gonna be able to get rid of me that easy. As far as I’m concerned, you’re coming to everything with me.” What? Is he serious? “So get ready for it.” 
That made you laugh, and as the sound escaped your lips, you realized that you actually felt better. You were calmer and more collected, your heartbeat almost back to normal. “I love you, Dieter. I didn’t mean to … I don’t know. It’s just a lot.” 
“It is.” He slid one arm around your waist, the other going around your shoulders as he pulled you in for a hug. “And I’ve got a secret to tell you.” He kissed your cheek before turning his head, his stubbled cheek rubbing against yours as his lips moved to hover just over your ear. “I’ve never cared so much about whether or not something goes well in my entire life.” He paused, and despite the muffled noise of the party just beyond the hallway, you heard that his inhale was shaky. “So you’re not gonna fuck this up. That’s not even an option.” 
“If you say so.” His words stunned you, but you believed them, and could feel the sincerity pouring off of Dieter as he held you close. “Thank you. I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend tonight, so…” You nuzzled against his cheek, tightening your arms and being careful not to spill your drink down his back. “I appreciate it.” 
When you separated a few seconds later, the two of you took deep breaths, but it was Dieter who spoke first. “Do you want to leave?” He shrugged. “We can stop on the way home for food, or just go back and order something.” He paused, cocking his head to the side and then grinning at you. “Or, do you want to stay and spend the next couple hours listening to me come up with new bullshit stories about making movies and filming TV shows and being friends with half of Hollywood?” 
He was giving you an out - two of them, if you were truthful. Because if you left, you’d both have a relaxing night in your apartment doing what you were already so comfortable with. And if you stayed, he’d volunteered to do the heavy lifting for you with the party crowd, turning on the charm and keeping them occupied. It took a lot out of him - and you both knew it - but you also knew that Dieter wouldn’t have made the offer if he hadn’t wanted to. He’d do that for me. 
“How about this.” You flattened one hand on his chest, and then used two fingers to undo another button on his shirt. “We go back out there and get something to eat and mingle for a little while.” He nodded slowly, eyes locked with yours. “And then, when you’re ready to leave, you tell me it’s time, and I’ll walk out of here with no questions asked.” 
“You sure?”
“I am.” Sliding your fingertips under his shirt, you rested them over his heart. “I just needed a minute, Dieter. It got real all of a sudden, and I wasn’t expecting it to.” 
He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. “I know.” He nodded twice. “I’ve been there.” When he backed up, you let your hand drop from his body. But Dieter didn’t let it fall all the way, catching it and linking your fingers together. “But the difference is that I didn’t have someone like me to step in.” 
He didn’t say anything more, but he did turn and head for the door without letting go. His words hit you hard; it was always the little things that he added as almost an afterthought that impacted you the most. He revealed the most about himself in small doses - Dieter’s admissions giving you a more thorough picture of exactly what his younger years had been like. And he trusts me enough to tell me the truth. 
You’d need his help navigating the new - and much more public - lifestyle that being with him would bring, and you both knew it. Nights like that one and other firsts would be difficult for you, but as you re-entered the party, the music and sounds of people talking growing louder, you understood that it wouldn’t always be that way. 
The two of you joined the small crowd around the buffet table, and Dieter finally let go of your hand to reach for a plate, handing it over to you before taking one of his own. You watched him fill it with finger foods and dips, turning his head and making an offhand comment to the man next to him, both of them laughing as they reached for pretzels. 
He fits in here. It was the final thing you needed to calm yourself entirely, and when he looked over at you, his smile wide, and winked, you laughed too. He can do this, and so can I. It would take time and effort to make your relationship work, but it was worth it. No question there. 
And the more comfortable you became with things, the more both of you would be able to relax and just enjoy being together - as you had in the months you’d spent getting to know each other. Once all of the formalities - and introductions - were done, it would be easier to focus on the future, whatever that entailed.
And you might not have had anyone before, Dieter … but now you do.
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macgyvermedical · 1 month ago
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I'm in the middle of a career change and a tentative asthma diagnosis (ie. no tests yet but it's on my record and my doctor is approaching it as such). What was healthcare like before protections were in place for people with pre-existing conditions? What should I do if I can't get health insurance? Should I try to get undiagnosed or something??? My symptoms are sporadic and usually mild so I can get through it without the inhaler if I had to, I'm just worried about losing access to all healthcare (also afab 😓) and want to be prepared to navigate things since I know it was way worse for chronic illnesses before the ACA.
The ACA was gigantic and it would be hard to talk about every aspect in this post.
Generally speaking, prior to the ACA, you essentially had three options. You could get health insurance through an employer, you could get health insurance through the state (medicaid), and you could get health insurance through an individual plan.
Seems pretty similar to today, right?
Nope.
See, the easiest way to get health insurance would be through a job. But if you had a pre-existing condition, including pregnancy or even simply being AFAB, in most states nobody legally had to cover you- including your employer. And if they did, they could say "you have health insurance for everything except the treatment of your chronic condition(s)" or make you pay significantly more for your premiums. Or, y'know, both (the idea being- if you sought medical care for one thing, you might do it again, and that would cost the insurance company profit*).
When you applied for health coverage through an employer, you had to disclose every medical problem you had ever had, including one-off problems like ear infections or broken bones. Anything could be grounds for not covering you at the outset. BUT if you didn't list a problem, and it was discovered (and they really went hard to find things), that could be grounds for rescission- the process of kicking you off insurance and forcing you to pay back money that the insurance had previously paid out for you.
If you didn't have a job or made extremely- and I mean extremely- little money, you might qualify for the state-sponsored medicaid, assuming you fell into a category that medicaid covered in your state. These categories included low-income children, some parents of children who lived at or below 64% of the federal poverty line (though in some states the parents had to have income as low as 15% of the FPL (less than $4,000/year for a family of 3)), older adults who had few assets or income, people on disability, and pregnant people up to 60 days post delivery. If you were a childless, able-bodied (at least in the eyes of the government) non-pregnant adult between 19-64, even if you made next to nothing? Pretty much forget about getting medicaid.
As far as I know, there were not a ton of changes made to medicare, the other major government insurance program for people over 65 years of age or who were severely disabled).
So what about individual plans? Well, first off, there was no marketplace (you couldn't compare plans from different companies) and no guaranteed coverage. Similar to plans through an employer, there was nothing protecting you from rescission or denial for even minor medical problems.
Most states, however, allowed something called "high risk pools" i.e. people who had pre-existing conditions and were looking for insurance could pay double what "healthy" people paid in premiums (often literally thousands of dollars per month) in order to have insurance. Even with these exorbitantly expensive plans, it would often be 12 months before they would start covering any pre-existing conditions. This meant that people had to pay their premiums and also out of pocket for their chronic care management for the first year of having insurance.
So what do you do if you're one of the near quarter of Americans who didn't have insurance through their employer, didn't qualify for medicaid, and couldn't afford the private insurance market?
You went into debt, or you died.
No, like, literally. You either agreed to medical care costing 10's or even 100's of thousands of dollars, or you didn't. For yourself or for your kids. Think about that- Would you pay (read, put yourself or your family into debt) half a million dollars for a surgery that saved your life? Your kid's life? These were the kinds of decisions that had to be made.
Back to your question:
Should you try to get un-diagnosed? Well no. That's asking for a rescission if the ACA is overturned. Contact me directly if you want more personal info about planning.
*and it's not like they aren't making a 10s-of-billions profit even with the ACA protections
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dreamingofep · 3 months ago
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Forbidden Love Pt. 7 💔❣️
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Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. [Fem!reader]
TW: Cussing, angst, mentions of infertility, Elvis being ~very difficult~😠
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 5.4k
A/N: Hi everyone! Posting in Elvis hours again hehe. This chapter is an emotional rollercoaster so be prepared! Forgive me for putting these two through the wringer🫣 I would recommend re-reading the first chapter again because I did leave some clues of what is going to be unveiled... Hope you enjoy! Elvis needs a hug and a slap on the wrist in this chapter🤭
July 5th, 1969
Tonight was another planned dinner and you couldn’t be more excited. This means you get to see Elvis with no other explanation and if you were lucky, you’d sneak away from everyone and kiss him like he’s your only supply of oxygen. Elvis coordinated this whole dinner. After five full days of rehearsing hours on end for his show, he wanted to have a little fun and invite some friends over. You liked how excited Elvis got over things lately. It was such a turn compared to a few weeks ago when he barely liked any company, especially yours. 
John was never thrilled about these dinners. He wouldn’t sit by you and would barely look in your direction so you and Elvis always sat next to each other. You’d joke and glance at each other with longing stares that made you feel aflame. His hand would brush your thigh and you couldn’t help but inch closer to him, longing for him to keep touching you. You loved those secret moments.
It was almost time to leave and you put on some glossy pink lipstick before rushing to get your heels on. You open the door and the phone rings as you’re about to leave the house. You run back in and grab the phone.
“Hello?” You say a bit winded.
“Hi baby when are you coming over?” Elvis asks smoothly. 
“I was just about to leave but here I am on the phone with you,” you tease him.
“Well, I’m glad I caught ya then. I want you to pack some things. I want you to stay the night,” he says matter-of-factly. You almost gasp at his request. He wouldn’t dare make it so obvious that you two were seeing each other. 
“No, absolutely not. Are you insane? We’d get caught and that would be the end of that,” you say shortly.
“No one’s gonna be home tonight. Dianne won’t be here, she’s got a flight later tonight to see some family,” he explains. You grew nervous, it was still too risky. This plan of his was going to blow up in smoke.
“And what about John? You need to deal with him. He expects me to be home with him. I don’t need him to start to grow suspicious of why I hang out at your house so late,” you say annoyed.
“Let me deal with him. Just bring your things, okay?” He says low and hangs up quickly.
You grunt frustrated, you hated that it had to be his way or no way at all. But you also didn’t have it in you to fight with him. You liked him taking the lead and having his way with you. You quickly go back to the bedroom and scour the closet for a duffle bag to pack some things for the night. It was a little nerve-wracking that you’d be there all night but you knew you’d love it. You race back to the front door and put the bag in your trunk, excited for tonight’s adventure. 
*
You pulled up to the house and the driveway was already packed with cars. Some of the guys were out there waiting to open the gate for you and you quickly parked the car, rushing to get inside. Walking up to the door, the murmur of voices behind it made you a bit nervous. Elvis better be on his best behavior. There were going to be too many eyes around tonight. You couldn’t get too close to him or disaster could strike.
There were a few people at the entrance of the house and they politely smiled at you and said hello. You do the same but your eyes frantically search for Elvis. You wanted to see him, as bad as it was, you needed to see what he was wearing tonight.
You round the corner and into the living room and you stop dead in your tracks. You found him and he was wearing all black and a blue scarf that made his eyes pop. He forgoes a shirt underneath his jacket and it shows off his tan chest. You loved his fashion choices lately and not wearing anything underneath his jackets with scarves or leaving his shirts unbuttoned scandalously low. He looked absolutely gorgeous and his eyes lit up when he saw you too.
Your smile begins to fade when you realize Dianne is sitting on his lap, wearing a short ruffled skirt and tank top, twirling his scarf around her finger. Your blood boiled, you hated seeing her on him. It was stupid honestly. She was only playing a part and so was Elvis. But this wasn’t a public event, there was no need for a dramatic display of affection from the two of them. You do everything in your power to force the fakest smile you’ve ever given. Elvis probably saw right through it as you stared at him blankly. 
“Hi y/n, it’s nice to see you again,” Jerry says on your right, snapping you out of your jealousy.
“Hi Jerry, always nice to see you,” you say to him and give him a hug. 
John was sitting next to Elvis and goes to hug you. It shocked you a little, he wasn’t the type to give affection so publicly. You smell the faintest scent of alcohol on him. I guess that answers why he’s so affectionate. You hug him anyway because you want Elvis to feel the same jealousy you felt when you looked at Dianne sitting on his lap. You grab John by the face and kiss him. You felt Elvis’ eyes burn into your skin. He hated what you were doing. You loved getting the reaction out of him though.
You pull away from him and act embarrassed, “Oh hi Dianne, so nice to see you again! Hi Elvis,” you say a bit flatly. Dianne quickly gets up and gives you a big hug.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here! I can use a girl’s company! Please sit down,” she says sitting back on Elvis’ lap and having you sit right next to him. There was a small space left on the couch and you squeezed beside him, placing your purse on the side of it and out of the way. His legs were spread open and your leg touched his. You try not to let it get to you but your body says otherwise.
“How have you been y/n? How was your day?” Dianne asks.
“Oh, it was fine. I just worked a shift at the diner and went home for a bit to relax before coming here,” you tell her.
“Oh, how nice. Do you like your job?” She asks as he continues to twirl Elvis’ scarf around her finger and rest her other hand on his bare chest. You tried to let it not distract you but you’re failing. It irked you the way he was letting her touch him. It was ridiculous of you, but it didn’t matter. You hated it and wished you were the one in his lap instead.
“No, not really, but it pays the bills in the meantime,” you joke.
“You’re an actress right?” Jerry butts in. Thank God for that, at least you don’t have to look directly at Dianne anymore.
“Yes, I am. I’m on a bit of a hiatus. Things have been a little tough and I’ve needed to take a break from it. I wasn’t getting as many jobs and it started to affect us,” you say a bit hurt.
You hated admitting that your dream wasn’t panning out the way you wanted it to. You didn’t quit the business, you were just falling on hard times and needed to make some quick money before going back out there. 
“Sorry you’ve had to take a break, you’ll get back on your feet in no time. I’ve seen some of your movies, you’re a natural,” Jerry says sweetly.
“Thanks,” you say sheepishly. It was nice to hear someone saw the potential you had. You look at John briefly and see he has this annoyed expression on his face when he’s listening to you talk about your career. It ticked you off even though you should be used to it by now.
“Maybe you can focus on other things in the meantime,” Dianne says cheerfully, “Maybe you can start a family,” she tells you.
You look at her blankly. You didn’t want to talk about this stuff with her around. She was the last person you wanted to talk about family stuff with.
“Umm, no, I don’t think that’ll be happening,” you try to deflect.
“Oh, why not?” She asks.
“It’s not the right time,” you try to shrug like it doesn’t bother you.
“Well, you never know. Blessings can happen when you least expect it,” she says as she wraps her arms around Elvis’ neck. It took everything in you to shove her off of him and get her to stop asking a million questions.
“Yeah, but we’re good. It’s not the right time to start a family,” you reiterate a bit sharply, hoping she’ll shut up.
“Oh but can you imagine, a little you running around? That would be the cutest,” she says excitedly looking at Elvis, “maybe we can try again?” She says looking at Elvis, leaning in to kiss him.
You felt like screaming at him, both of them for that matter but God that got under your skin and stayed there. Again?! What does she mean again?! You wanted to yell and scream your head off at him if he was actually having his way with both of you at the same time. You clench your fist closed and do everything in your power to swallow your pride and not say anything to him. Yet. He will get an earful from you later, you were going to make sure of that. 
“Well you have fun with that,” you say sarcastically, making sure to not look at Elvis.
“You two really would have the cutest kids!” Dianne continues to ramble.
“Yeah, that's not happening. We’d need a miracle to happen,” John mutters a bit too loudly as he takes a sip of his beer.
You feel every pair of eyes dart to you and you freeze. You stare at John in disbelief that he just said that. He looks at you as though he sees right through you. He looks at you like you’re such a disappointment. You glance at Elvis and see a look of concern. 
“What? What does he mean?” Dianne asks confused. You wanted this night to end right here and now. You were sick and tired of her incessant questions and angry at John’s drunken slip-up.
“It means I can’t have kids. It’ll never be the right time it seems and I can’t do anything about it but move on,” you say sharply and throw daggers at her. She grows quiet and looks away from you.
The room was extremely quiet and you felt everyone’s uncomfortableness as the rest of the house was loud and full of laughter. You tap your leg nervously, hating that the attention is on you and this topic. You debate whether you should just leave the room or pray to God someone changes the topic again. You were hoping Jerry would be that person again but sadly he didn’t get that memo.
“I’m so sorry y/n,” Elvis says softly, almost too low for you to even hear.
You look up at his puppy dog eyes and let your anger get the best of you. Looking at him made you more angry and hearing that he was sorry for you pushed you past your boiling point. You stare at him blankly, fire burning in your eyes as you don’t want to be around him anymore. 
You get up from the couch and try to put on a believable smile like none of this got to you.
“I’m going to grab a drink, does anyone want anything?” You ask cheerfully.
Everyone murmurs no and you see yourself out. Your smile instantly drops when your back faces everyone in the living room. You squeeze your way through the dining room where a lot of people are gathered and go to the kitchen. It's a bit quieter in here and you get to breathe and try to shake off everything that just happened. You hated how this was brought up, it made you feel shitty. You don’t know if Dianne brought this up on purpose or what but you like her even less now. 
You find champagne on the kitchen island and pour yourself a small glass. You sip the bubbly drink and try to calm yourself down before you go back out there. You suddenly feel a hand gently grab your arm and pull you to the side. You look up and see it's Elvis and he keeps walking to a side room off of the kitchen. You shrug out of his grasp and grunt frustrated.
“Elvis?! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You snap.
“I needed to talk to you,” he says.
“It can wait, let's get out there,” you say flatly, trying to push past him. 
He steps in front of the door and locks it.
“No, I’m not letting you out of here until we talk about this,” he says sternly.
“There’s nothing to talk about Elvis, let’s just go,” you grumble. 
“Yes there is,” he says as he pulls you in to hug you, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” he says gently. 
As much as you loved it when he held you in his arms, you didn’t want that kind of affection right now. You push away at his chest and feel the tears well in your eyes. 
“Elvis no. I can’t do this with you. I tried to tell you. I did, I tried. But you were too busy for me! That was the moment I realized we weren’t friends anymore. I told whoever answered the phone it was extremely important to talk to you and they said they’d go and get you but you didn’t answer the phone! I waited for hours for you, crying my eyes out hoping you’d talk to me but you didn’t. I needed you. I needed someone to go to and comfort me when I was going through this tough time and I had no one,” you say angrily. 
“God no,” he angrily mutters, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t remember-. When was this? Please help me understand,” he pleads with you. 
“A few years ago. ‘66 I believe. Everything went up in flames that year. I came to the realization I’ll never be able to have a family and things only got worse with me and John. I was losing traction with my career and not getting cast as much. It was all a mess and I had no one to talk to,” you weep turning away from him so he wouldn’t see you cry. 
“I’m sorry honey that’s awful. I wish I could have done something, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking…” he rambles. 
“Nothing. You were thinking about nothing and ignoring me like every other man in my life,” you grumble. 
There’s a heavy silence that fills the room as you can still hear the liveliness of the party going on out there. 
“He isn’t supportive about any of it? Not even empathetic?” Elvis asks gently. 
“No. And I know deep down, he hates me for it. We were having some minor problems before this happened and a naive part of me thought that if I gave him a baby, everything would be alright. But years went on and it never happened. I had to face the reality that something was wrong with me and had to move on. There’s nothing I can do about it,” you say defeated. 
“Honey I-,” he starts to say but you stop him. 
“No! Don’t honey me! You are not innocent here. What the fuck was that about in the living room? Dianne saying you guys should try again?” You say as anger boils through you. 
“Are you messing around with her and me at the same time?! You told me the whole relationship between you two was just a publicity stunt and nothing more,” you seethe. 
He sighs and takes a step back from you, “It’s more complicated than that…” he starts to say. 
“No it’s not!” You yell at him. 
“Shh, please lower your voice,” he growls. 
“No, you don’t get to tell me what to do! Yes or no, are you two screwing around or was she trying to make your little story more believable by saying that.” You snap. 
His face looks distraught and he looks like he can cry too. It was a horrible sight to see. You only wanted to see him happy and full of joy. You can see he’s searching for the right words but hesitates to say any of them. 
“Yes, years ago we did. I was very unhappy with my career and hated everything I was doing. A lot like you, I thought maybe I should get married or have a baby, maybe that would make me happier? But I realized that none of that was going to make me happy and I didn’t like Dianne that way. I would be miserable if I married her,” he explains. 
You felt bad for him too, how unhappy he was like you and had nowhere to go. Things should have been different between you two. If you had talked to each other about all of this, maybe you wouldn’t feel so alone and helpless. 
“But to answer your question, no, I’m not even touching her. I want nothing to do with her like that now,” he pauses and slowly gets closer to you, “I only want you baby, please you have to believe me.” He says sorrowful. 
You don’t respond to him. You were too hurt by all of this and don’t want to be here anymore. 
“We should go out there, they’re waiting on us,” you murmur not looking at his face. He doesn’t budge and pulls you into his arms once more. 
“Baby please look at me. I’m sorry about everything,” he purrs. 
You wanted to forgive him of course, it felt awful to be cross with him but you needed space. You still hold this grudge against him that he hasn’t been there for you when he said he always would be. You push past him and quickly get out of the room and into the kitchen. 
There were so many people around, that your absence wasn’t noticed where you had been for the last few minutes. You head back out to the living room with a drink in your head. You force another fake smile as you stand off to the side as you don’t want to sit by either Dianne or John. Fifteen minutes passed and Elvis still hadn’t joined you. You grew anxious as to what was taking him so long. It’s not like he’d just leave his own house and leave his party.
After an hour or so of dealing with insufferable conversation, it was time for dinner. An extra table was brought in so everyone could sit together. Elvis finally appears from the back of the house with a stark look on his face. As usual, he coordinated it so you had to sit next to him. This was the first night you did not want to be close to him by any means. Everything was ticking you off and everyone’s dumb jokes were annoying you more than anything. 
Elvis picked up on your mood instantly and he was quieter than usual. You could feel him looking at you through the whole dinner but you didn’t look his way once. You picked at your food, not really hungry after everything that has transpired. It was only ten but you wanted to get out of this house. You were no longer in the mood to stay over or be around Elvis at all. The longer you stayed here, the worse this night could get. 
You probably should have listened to your instincts and gotten up right now but you didn’t and disaster was about to strike. 
You tune back into everyone’s conversations and act like you’re interested in what they have to say. Some of the guys were talking about something that happened on a movie set a few years ago and were laughing about it. They brought up some girls they thought were pretty and how they didn’t give them the light of day when they asked them out on a date. 
Elvis would mess with them and tease that no girls were interested in them anyway. It was light-hearted banter and it did take your mind off of the uncomfortable situation you were in earlier. One of the guys turns their attention to you and it surprises you a bit. 
“You’ve worked with Nicole, haven’t you? You know who we’re talking about.”
“Oh yeah, I worked on a movie with her. She was so nice,” you recall the fond memory. 
“She liked you too. She hoped to work with you again. What are you working on now?” He asks. 
You don’t feel threatened by the question and brush it off, it was just an innocent inquiry. 
“Nothing right now. I’m hoping to get back out there soon though,” you say hopefully. 
“You are? SInce when?” John asks a bit annoyed from the other end of the table. You stare darkly at him and try to keep your cool. 
“Yes, I do. I miss being on set and everything. That’s where I was the most happy and had the most fun,” you say looking away from John and addressing anyone else that was listening to the conversation. 
“Oh, you should have been on the set for one of Elvis’ movies. We had some wild times,” one of the guys laughed. A lot more of them laugh, reminiscing about such memories and you giggle too, you can only imagine what kind of trouble they got into on set. 
“Oh I bet you guys have quite the stories,” you chuckle, “that almost happened though. I almost got the role of Elvis’ love interest in one of his movies in ‘66 but the producers went another direction at the last minute. It sucked but whatever,” you try to say nonchalantly.
“That’s right, I remember when Elvis found out you got cast. He freaked out,” he says laughing.
“Would you shut up,” Elvis says quickly, anger lacing his words.
You were confused by all of this. Why would Elvis be so freaked out about you getting cast in a movie? You thought it would be a nice reunion in a way. It was something you always wanted to happen.
“What are you talking about?” You ask, laughing slightly thinking he was just messing with you.
“Yeah, he saw your name on the cast list and called the director right away. You didn’t know? I thought he called you to explain,” He asks you confused. 
“He didn't call me for a whole decade,” you scowl. 
“That’s enough,” Elvis hissed. 
You were baffled at what was going on. None of this made sense. Why would he act like this when he found out you got cast in his movie? Your mind races and starts creating the worst possible scenarios. Did he actually have a hatred for you for whatever reason?
You slowly turn your body to face Elvis, a slow boiling rage is once again beginning to develop inside of you. 
“Why would you call the director about me?” You say sharply, holding your breath as you look at him like you could bite his head off. 
He looks back at you with the same intensity but you don’t waiver. 
“Answer me,” you say through your teeth. 
Everyone gets a bit uncomfortable, not looking directly at either of you.
You watch him swallow sharply, clearly not wanting to speak. 
“I-, I called him to tell him I had concerns..” he says gently. 
“Concerns about what?” You snap. 
“That maybe you weren’t the right fit…” he says timidly. 
You had enough and quickly got up and left the table. The screech of your chair moving back made everyone jump and not look at you in your state of fury. You walk back into the living room to grab your keys and your purse and head for the front door. No one moved an inch and watched you storm out of the house. You didn’t know whether you should scream or cry or do both at the same time. You couldn’t believe Elvis would ever do such a thing. Especially to you. 
You start to walk towards your car and you hear excited screams of a dozen fans waiting outside to see Elvis. A few flashing lights are going off from their cameras but are instantly disappointed that it’s just you. It was going to be hard getting out of here and you get frustrated, you needed to leave and get some space from all of this. You didn’t want to give Elvis any more time to fuck up anything else. 
“Y/n please wait,” you hear Elvis say behind you. You glance over your shoulder and see he’s trying to catch up to you. The backyard gate is on your left and that’s the only place you can go to hide from the screaming fans and everyone else at this party. You quickly open it and walk along the side of the house. Your heels make a loud echo on the concrete as you storm away from Elvis as fast as you can. 
“Y/n please,” Elvis begs and gently grabs your arm to stop you. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You seethe. He looks at you stunned, he’s never seen you so upset. “Why would you do this to me?!” You continue. 
“Honey I- I don’t know. I didn’t know what-, can you just let me explain,” he tells you. You could barely see straight you were so upset. 
“No, you listen to me! Do you know what you did?!” 
“I know it was wrong. I-I-I’m sorry baby I just thought-. The script was absolutely terrible and I was tryin’ to-,” he stammers.
“You were thinking about yourself that’s what was happening! How could you take something like this away from me,” you say as your voice cracks with emotion.
He grunts frustratedly and walks away from you, his hands on his hips with his head fallen down. 
“I was afraid… I couldn’t see you after all those years,” he mutters.
“What?”
He turns around slowly and his blue eyes are filled with tears.
“I knew I was being an awful person. I wasn’t writing you back, I wasn’t answering your phone calls, I didn’t even try to see you in person once I came back from the army, I knew you hated me for it all. And I couldn’t blame you. As time went on, I knew there was nothing that would have excused how I was acting. I panicked and couldn’t see you. I called the director and said I was nervous working with you. I explained there was a certain history we had and I couldn’t shake my nerves. Before I knew it, they had you recast. It wasn’t what I intended to happen. I was just hoping they would push the start date or something. I never wanted you off the movie, I just needed more time to figure out what I’d even say to you,” he admits.
“Why didn’t you say something like that then? Why didn’t you tell them you wanted me in the movie,” you ask.
“I just-, I was still afraid. I thought it was meant to be this way… to keep not seeing you,” he admits.
You sink to your knees and sit on the hard ground. You cover your face in your hands and let your tears fall. You couldn’t believe any of it. How could you be so dumb? All you wanted was to be close to Elvis again but he proved time and time again he didn’t want that.
He was afraid to see you? What did he possibly think when he agreed to hire John. Did he think that he could still ignore you? 
“That one role could have changed my life you know that? If I had on my resume that I worked with Elvis Presley, maybe the tide could have changed for me. Now I’ll never know if that could have been a possibility,” you sob.
“I know… I’m sorry…” he says softly. “And I didn’t know what you were dealing with personally which makes me feel even worse,” he says kneeling in front of you.
You both sit there motionless, not wanting to talk anymore. You felt your heart hurt, you never thought you could feel so broken. Just when you thought things were getting better, it came crashing down. You knew this whole thing was too good to be true. You just didn’t know how messy it would be.
You get up and smooth your dress out. Elvis quickly gets up too, looking at you with concern. 
“I’m sorry baby, please. I was an idiot I didn’t know what I was doing,” he pleads as he gently caresses your face. His touch burns your skin and makes you feel weak. You hate yourself for liking his hands on you so much. You sigh softly and lean against the wall. He presses his forehead against yours and his breathing hitches. You place your hand on his cheek and feel the wet drops of tears cover his face.
“Please, forgive me,” he begs, his voice quivering softly. You stay silent as he tilts your head up to look up at him through wet eyelashes. He places the softest kiss on your lips, making you feel weak. Both of you gasp, needing air over this small kiss. He places another kiss on your lips, this time with a bit more urgency. You squeeze at his arm, trying to fight his magnetic pull. It’s almost useless. His arms pull you closer to him and you both sigh exasperated. You tremble with emotion and he places another passionate kiss on you. 
“I’m sorry baby, please,” he whimpers. 
You feel on fire but the tears pouring down from your eyes are making you feel like you have a fractured soul now. You’ll never be whole again. You struggle for breath and try to get a hold of yourself. You push at his chest and blink through your tears to look at him. You had never seen him cry like this and it breaks you. 
“I can’t see you anymore. Whatever this was, it's done,” you sob.
Fear engulfs his eyes and he shakes his head. 
“No no please baby, don’t go. Stay, we can talk more,” he pleads. 
“There’s nothing else to say,” you whimper. You start to take a few steps away and he gently holds your hand. 
“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave me. I can’t be without you. I don’t know how to get by without you here. I need you,” he begs. Tears stream down your face and you feel like the air got sucked out of your lungs when you hear him confess this. It sounded too good to be true. These were words you always longed to hear coming from his lips. It’s too late though. 
“I have to go,” you sob. 
“Baby no,” he cries, slowly crumbling to his knees in front of you. 
You feel your heart break in two, this was a sight you never wanted to see. It felt awful to say but you needed to walk away. There was nothing else to fix this relationship. 
“Bye E,” you whimper and pull your hand away from his. It felt physically painful. 
You walk back out to the driveway and you see some of the guys waiting to open the gate for you. Putting the keys in the ignition, your radio blares and Elvis’ voice rings from the speakers. It was a song you didn’t recognize. It must have been off of his new album or something. You quickly shut the radio off and want to drive in silence instead. Backing out of the driveway, you see Elvis standing in the middle of it. He looked distraught, like he just witnessed a death. 
In a way, that’s what it felt like. This whole evening was ruined from the moment you walked into the house. Any possibility of what could have been with you and Elvis was washed away by a flood.
*
*
*
Tagging:
@loving-elvis @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis
@ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep
@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates
@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog
@myradiaz @tacozebra051
@thatbanditqueen
@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873
@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis
@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers
@idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy-
@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.
@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl
@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121
@jaqueline19997
@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog
@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8
@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69
@mh777ep1938
@50sexyshadestashionista
@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs
@sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway @gatheraheart
@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen
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gingerparker · 2 years ago
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PULL ON MY THONG
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Pairing: College!Peter Parker X Reader
Summary: Peter needs a vacation. So, naturally, he goes to Vegas during his summer break. He's thin on cash and finds a job at a water park! The hot girl behind the bikini bar is a great bonus to his biweekly paycheck.
Warning: Fluff, sexual tension, teasing, slight body worship, drinking (both reader and Peter are 21+)
Word Count: 7158
A/N: let's pretend this wasn't a summer writing challenge... life happened HARD for it to be posted now.. but i hope y'all enjoy anyway ajsjjs DISCLAIMER!! i know the hotel i used here doesn't have a water park but i was too lazy to use a real one sooo it's an invented one!
It's too warm as soon as Peter exits the airport. It's a sticky and dry kind of warmth, no wind of any kind can be felt around him. His small luggage feels like it weighs 5 tons more than it did mere seconds ago and he realizes how stupid it is to have worn dark clothes.
Travellers push past him to find a cab of any kind to get out of the intense heat. Families get into larger Ubers and some are crazy enough to be walking out. Peter is not that determined.
He has to shuffle through the crowd to find a free cab, they are being filled much quicker than he would have thought. Thank god for his faster pace.
Inside the car, he's blasted with cool air, the sweat on his forehead seemingly evaporating.
The drive to his hotel is smooth. He chugs the rest of his water bottle minutes into the ride. Queen's weather didn't prepare him for this.
In only a few minutes he's on the strip. Billboards of all kinds flash around the cab. It's day outside yet he feels blinded by the colourful lights. He sees half-naked men posing with tourists for money as well as showgirls doing the same. He doesn't let his eyes linger too long. The sidewalk is full of people; after all, it's tourist season.
A bright pink flamingo catches his eye, his hotel seemingly calling out to him! Come, Peter! There's some air con in me maybe you could go to my bar or even check out my casin-
"Sir!" he's startled by the harsh voice that calls him, the cab driver.
"Yes?"
"We're here? I've taken you to your hotel" he gestures to the building they are parked next to.
"Oh! How much do I owe you?"
-
"Y/N, I need you to do the night shift today! Bebe is stuck in St-George, you know how horrible the construction traffic is" Your boss, Xiomara, pleads over the phone. "And I can't come in I have an appointment with my OB"
"What about Charlize?" you ask.
Your phone is on speaker on your bed and you're already looking through the clean bikinis you have ready.
"I haven't been able to reach her, please please please!" she sounds so desperate that you laugh a little.
"Should I wear the blue holo set or go for the pink and red tie-dye one?" Mars squeals loudly, her voice cracks through the speaker on your phone.
"Tie-dye!! You're a lifesaver Y/N/N, I owe you"
"No worries babes, nothing exciting was happening with me tonight" You'll just have to reschedule your date with your vibrator for another day.
"I'll buy you breakfast on your next opening shift! Wait, that's tomorrow, oh god you're gonna be so tired. I can still try and reach Char-"
"Mars! Don't worry so much, keep it going and the baby will just shoot right out of you" you laugh as you pack your bag for the evening.
"I mean I wouldn't complain. I'm very much over pregnancy" she sighs and you only hum as an answer.
You both say your goodbyes and you're quickly doing a makeup look to match your uniform for the night.
Deep red lipstick, a thick black liner that frames your eyes just the way you like and a light amount of everything else. It heats up like crazy in the small bar so you don't want to be sweating it off in seconds. The finishing touch is some body shimmer, that's for the extra tips.
You live in a resort-like rental near the Vegas Strip. Your university funds top students from other states to live in these apartments. When you'd been accepted and offered to house you; you couldn't turn it down. Leaving New York was easy enough, your parents were always travelling for their jobs and your friends were leaving for other schools so it was an easy decision.
A big bonus was that it was only 10 minutes away by foot from your job in a hotel's adult pool.
You gathered all your things and made your way out.
Tuesday nights are the slowest nights. The restricted pool access you work in usually has a long cue to be let in but currently, there are only 5 people. 7 if you count the obviously underage girls that nervously fiddle with their fake IDS.
You've only made 50$ in tips so far which is pretty disheartening. Did you waste your best body shimmer for this?
After cleaning the bar for the third time in the last 10 minutes you give up pretending to be busy. Maybe you should make yourself a drink... A nice cranberry, vodka and watermelon purée slushy... You could even try the new bubblegum gin you received...
As you're trying to figure out what to mix the new alcohol with you spot a guy. A hot guy to be precise. He looks lost as he enters the area and pockets his wallet. His eyes are wide and they seem to be full of awe. First time in Vegas probably. His abs are what make your eyes follow him. For such a soft face the body he has is a pleasant surprise, muscles that don't look too bulky and that highlight the fact that he probably takes very good care of himself.
He looks like a Long Island ice tea type of guy, who likes alcohol but doesn't like tasting it all that much. You almost want to whistle at him or do anything to catch his eye.
He'd be a better date than your vibrator that's for sure.
-
It's Peter's fifth day in Las Vegas and he just learned about his hotel's private pool. They only let people 21 years old and older in. All he knew was that there was a small water park, and the kids' screaming could be heard throughout the day.
There are more palm trees to cover up this part of the hotel's grounds, giving more privacy to whatever happens here. There's a large DJ booth elevated at the end of the pool and at least 3 different bars. The DJ obviously pressed shuffle on a Spotify playlist and decided to scroll through his phone. The 3 bartenders he sees look bored out of their minds and are seemingly playing a card game. Only about 20 other guests are enjoying the privacy of this section.
He chooses to go buy himself a drink, there's nothing much to do besides that and swim right now.
Right as he's about to go and disturb the guys playing cards he sees a little hut next to the jacuzzi. It's pure white and only has a sign on the front where it's written "Cheeky Chicks" with a bright pink bikini painted on.
His brows furrow before he steps back to look inside.
His eyes widen and his breath hitches. There stands a girl. A half-naked girl. A very very pretty half-naked girl. A girl that's already looking at him. Peter's knees might just give out under him. A smirk forms on your lips when you realised cute hot chiselled guy noticed you. This is going to be so much fun.
"Hi," you say while leaning forward on your bar a little. The guy's face heats up instantly. Red creeps up his chest and onto his face. Peter is incredibly weak for pretty girls.
"Hi," he manages to breathe out.
"Come over here," you say with a wink. No one can tell you that you aren't good at your job.
Peter nods and makes his way over to her. His steps are quicker than he initially wanted, he did want to look cool and nonchalant. Too late now!
"What's your name?" you ask when he reaches your hut.
"Um... I'm not sure" his brain is screaming the answer at him but all he can hear is "her eyes are up there, her eyes are up there, her eyes ar-"
"Mh that's unfortunate, guess I'll have to stick with sexy stranger" your smirk grows when his tongue comes out to lick his lips.
"Right, um, I'm Peter?"
"You sure about that babes?" his eyes get as wide as saucers, nicknames are appreciated... You make a mental note of this.
"Peter Parker," he says "That's my name" he nods to himself. Probably feeling very proud that he's remembered it. God, he's adorable your practically melting.
"Hi Peter Parker, I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you hot stuff" You lean back to your normal position, he's been working very hard to keep his eyes in respectful eye contact.
"What can I get you, Pete?"
"Huh?"
"You walked up to my bar, don't you want a drink?" you gesture to all the alcohol you have around you.
"Oh! Um what's your favourite?" he looks at the numerous bottles around you.
"Anything turned into a slush" you answer honestly.
"Ok... Something with cherry?" he suggests with a tilt of his head. You nod and get to work.
If you mix your shaker more than usual who could fault you? It keeps his eyes on you as silence settles over. After adding a cherry and coconut slush to the alcohol mix you top it off with maraschino cherries and a bright pink swirly straw.
You hand it over to him, purposefully making contact with his hand. He takes a big sip and your stare falls to his neck. Thick but lean, muscular and so soft looking. He'd look so good with hickeys littered all over it. You could even trail some down, down, down... just under where his swimming trucks start. God, you really need to get off.
"So what do you think, babes?" you ask him as he brings his straw away from his lips. He nods excitedly as a smile spreads on his face. How can you want him to rearrange your insides and bake him a cake all at once?
"It's delicious! I can't even taste the alcohol you put in here" he nods seemingly approvingly and you smile smugly.
"That's how you know it's a dangerous drink" you wink, turning around to quickly put away the things you used to prepare Peter's drink.
"So how much do I owe you?" he takes his wallet out and opens it up with one hand.
Maybe this is your chance to be bold. Get a date out of this incredibly slow day?
"Mh it'll only cost you your phone number" you shrug with a smirk on your face. Peter sputters on the sip he'd taken and flushes from head to toe. He shakes his head quickly and puts down his cup.
"I have to pay you" he goes through the bills he has in his wallet, instantly paling. He counts them again to then meet your eyes anxiously. "Um, any luck this cost under 6$?" he laughs awkwardly taking out the six 1$ bill he had. You cringe and shake your head. Why must you go for the broke cutie? He sighs and shoves the bills into your tip jar.
"I'm sorry, my aunt always tells me to budget better but this trip has got me much shorter on cash than usual..." Peter puts his wallet away, already knowing it's best if leaves as fast as he can.
"How long are you staying in Vegas for?" your question surprises even yourself. You both expect to have him just walk away and forget this interaction happened... but alas you're incredibly weak.
"I don't know really... I bought a one-way ticket so... I'll probably try and get a ticket to leave at the end of summer" which is currently two and a half months away.
"And you already have no cash left??" you gasp. How is that even possible? "Do you have a job? Or a sugar daddy?" you add in a rushed tone, shocked at his quite reckless planning.
"Think I'd look good in a bikini?" he teases. Joking at a time like this? He might just be your soulmate.
"You'd look amazing in a bikini but this is a woman owed and woman run" You sigh dreamily at the thought of Peter in a bikini. New kink unlocked? Or are you just incredibly horny... "Although... one of the lifeguards at the water park quit! Maybe I could get a good word in for you" You start shutting off the lights in your little hut and locking up the coolers and stands around you.
"Now?" Peter exclaims. You ignore his shock and turn back to him. You spot his unfinished slushy and hand it back to him.
"Drink it at least, I'm not doing charity for you not to enjoy it" you tease him before making your way out, locking the side door and hanging up the "Closed" sign.
"Oh and I'm still expecting your phone number"
-
That's how Peter Parker got himself a job at his hotel's water park. The man running it barely asked him what his name was before he was hired. They made sure that he had the right certification for a lifeguard job and the next day he was on the schedule. Well, they wrote him in with a Sharpie and they spelt his name wrong but he had a job!
The kids were... tolerable, the pay was ok and the conditions were bearable. His favourite part, however, is the hottie that always put extra cherries on his alcoholic slushes.
It's been three weeks now since he was able to pay back the first one, and it's also been three weeks since you've exchanged numbers.
You've been texting back and forth like crazy. Just facts about your days when you aren't working at the same time or you even like to have him pick out your bikini. He gets exceptionally shy and takes forever to answer but, surprisingly, he's got impeccable taste. Peter knows it's because of how attracted to you he is. Getting to know you has only deepened how doomed he is, how quickly his feelings have shifted from plain lust.
"So you haven't fucked yet?" Ned's voice is loud out of his phone speaker and it scares the shit out of Peter. He's on his lunch break and it's his weekly bro date with Ned. They have lately been full of your name.
"No, women and men can be friends. You know this" Peter knows full well that he'd ditch the friendship in a heartbeat for something more. He'll keep this act up tho, more gentlemanly... right?
"Not when they obviously wanna bone Pete... You're telling me not even a steamy make-out session?" Peter is glad they decided not to FaceTime because he knows what face Ned would be making right now and he doesn't want to see it.
"No" He wishes. He wishes so badly. Like it's actually starting to concern him how much he just wants you to sit on his lap, put your hands in his hair, maybe pull a little, definitely call him babes like you alw- See? He's going insane.
"That's sad Petey, get a move on! If Y/N is as hot as you say then you can't waste any time!" Ned's voice is so diplomatic it's weird but comforting.
"Oh. My. God. Babes you talk about me?" your chipper voice almost startles Peter off his seat and onto the suspiciously green floors.
Peter looks at you with a terrified expression on his face, like you've caught him mid-murder. Damn, his Peter Tingle for not warning him of your arrival!
"Is that her? Y/N! PETER WANTS TO FU-"
His phone is thrown across the room at record-breaking speed, destroying it. You barely seem surprised.
The silence that takes over the room gives Peter time to look you over. What you're wearing today has to be lingerie... just enough is left to the imagination and it's hypnotising. The way the slightest movement makes you look, the up and down of your chest as you breathe, how you look walking closer to him. Wait, walking closer??
His eyes snap up to meet yours as you walk over to him.
"Take me out tonight" You lean down to his eye level. The eye contact you hold is intense. So much is communicated through facial expressions. Peter's mind repeats your statement over and over, making sure he actually heard the right thing.
"Where?"
"Anywhere near an Apple Store so we can get you a new phone" you wink.
-
Smoking hot date, check.
Carefully picked out outfit, check.
Cute but comfortable makeup, check.
Get Peter a new phone before the date actually starts, check.
You and Peter are now slowly making your way down the Vegas Strip. With the ending goal in mind to find someplace interesting to eat. You walked past many many different restaurants but nothing that made you stop walking.
Peter's hand holds yours loosely, the hot weather unsuitable for real hand-holding. He's wearing a light pink shirt with flamingos and flowers patterned around it, obviously, he hadn't packed a "date shirt" before leaving New York and bought it at his hotel. His legs are barely hidden away by his short jeans short that have numerous rips in them... God you want to bite his thighs.
"You're staring at my legs again" You can hear him smirking through the tone of his voice.
"Oh shut up!" you knock your shoulder onto his arm with a laugh.
"It's fine this most likely compensates for the number of times I've at your boobs... or your ass... or anything really when you have a bikini on" he gestures with his free hand to you. Most likely visualising a bikini on you now.
"Mh, that's true... I'll keep staring then!" you smile proudly winking at him. His face and neck flush pink as he ducks his head. He's so fun to tease always so responsive.
Conversation is easy. It always is. Your personalities mesh together perfectly which makes hanging out with him so fun.
This being more officially a date has put weight on both of your shoulders. Somehow, it's made a sliver of anxiety surround the both of you. It must mean you both want this date to go well; to have many more after.
"Oh! How about hot dogs?" Peter points to a small restaurant to his left.
"Those are probably, like funky hot dogs... I'm down, let's go!" you tug him towards Haute Doggery.
You're both greeted by a woman behind the counter when you walk in. The place is small, with four two-person tables and a high counter along one of the only bare walls. That said it's cosy and inviting so you're immediately excited.
"Wow! A foot-long hog dog??" Peter gasps as he reads the menu. You giggle at his reaction now reading the menu yourself. So many options to choose from... "Want to share two regular-sized speciality ones?"
"Only if we get fries" you nod seriously, now choosing a hot dog to share with him.
"I definitely want to try the mac and cheese one" Peter looks away from the menu to meet your eyes.
"Good choice! I saw we get that one and the breakfast one, I can never say no to hash browns"
Once you receive your order you make your way to one of the tables, ready to absolutely dig in. Peter takes the time to precisely cut in half both hot dogs and gives you your pieces.
"Cheers!" you say knocking your half with his before taking a generous bite of the breakfast delight.
-
"So this is my room!" Peter shuffles inside his hotel room before holding the door open for you.
The room is nothing crazy. One queen bed in. the middle, a dresser with a tv on top of it, grey carpet flooring, pinkish walls, a bathroom and a balcony overlooking the pools and the waterpark.
You make your way over to his freshly made bed: thank you housekeeping. You sit down on it beckoning Peter over to you. He toes off his shoes in a hurry before practically lunging at the spot next to you. Cute.
"Had fun, cutie?" you look at him with seductive eyes and a warm smile. You want him to be putty in your hands.
Peter reacts immediately to the name you call him, blushing and wide-eyed.
"Yeah, you're easy to talk to and really sex- I mean smart. Really smart." his words seem to be tumbling out of his mouth in a panic.
"Babes, calm down!! You can compliment me. Physically too" you smack his chest feeling the firm muscle of his peck.
He only nods as an answer but keeps his eyes locked with yours. You're the one to break the eye contact to glance at his lips. You want to kiss him so bad...
"Can I kiss you?" Peter might be a mind reader.
"Please" is what you answer.
Kissing Peter is immediately addicting. He's so enthusiastic, kisses like his life depends on it. His left hand goes to your back and his right cradles your jaw. Your own move around his body. Gripping his muscles, tangling in his hair, slipping under his shirt. You're having a great time exploring his body.
You bite his bottom lip playfully, tugging it towards you and it makes Peter moan in delight.
"You're so hot, I'm going insane" he mumbles between desperate kisses.
You only hum in answer wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down above you. His body is so warm against yours like he's on fire. You tug off his shirt, to help him cool down is what you tell yourself.
"I know I see you without a shirt more than with one but this is so much sexier" you trail your fingers all. over. him.
Peter turns you onto your side to unzip your romper. His lips never leave yours, the contact staying feverish and fast. It's like he wants to eat you whole. Maybe he does, you'd let him.
The shrill sound of your ringtone startles you, causing you to knock your chin into Peter's nose as you look up.
He groans as you reach to silence the (incredibly rude) device. Unfortunately, your index has other plans and presses the accept call button.
"Y/N?" Xiomara... This can only mean bad news.
"I know you're on a date and I'm so incredibly sorry to be doing this. I just went into labour and you're literally in the hotel somewhere..." Her voice is strained and you breathe out in exasperation.
Peter's head drops into the crook of your neck. His hands don't start roaming, they travel, map your body out. Every single inch of skin he can reach. Inside the romper, your face, legs, arms... Anything and everything.
"I... I don't have a bikini" you manage to say.
"I really don't care what you wear. Actually, you know what I don't care about the bar right now never mind" She hangs up immediately.
"Thank fuck for that" Peter exclaims dragging the rest of your romper off.
You laugh as he readily gets back to what he was doing. His lips on yours, guided your hands into his hair and hips bucking into yours.
Yeah, this is so much better than taking over "Cheeky Chicks" for the evening.
372 notes · View notes
godlygreta · 11 months ago
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god is fair | j. t. kiszka
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title | god is fair
word count | 7.7k
warnings | swearing, mentions of alcohol - nothing too terrible... yet ;)
author's note | i've had this in the chamber for some time now, i just lost the inspo to write, which is why i haven't in a long time. this isn't a promise that i'll post more fics as they come to me, seeing as i'm a senior in college who has a fuck ton of other things to do. there will be a part 2 to this fic, but i couldn't tell you when it's coming :)
also, very much so listening to god is fair, sexy nasty by mac miller while writing this & starting the next part, so take that as you will ;)
unedited as hell so pls excuse any mistakes !
You always had this rivalry since the beginning of freshman year. This guy, Jake, would never show up to any of the classes the two of you had together, but always got the highest grades on every single goddamn exam that your Intro to Bio professor gave out. It infuriated you.
You figured that in the spring semester, you would be freed from the disappearing boy, but you weren’t. While the teacher called roll, everyone shouted out here. She landed upon his name, calling out to the class and looking through the rows of students. He had been there for orientation, sitting in one of the middle rows, slouched in his seat.
You planned to confront him the next day you had class together, on Wednesday, but Jake was nowhere to be found. Your roommate and your friends had heard your exhaustive theories as to why he was never in class. “Babe, you sound insane. Just let it go.”
But you couldn’t.
Competition lived deep within your roots, having an entire competition with the second top student in your graduating class in high school. Though the rage held between each other was never taken far outside of the academic realm, the two of you never thought to be friends and encourage one another. Thankfully, the two of you resolved the competition when the two of you realized you would be going into two very separate fields of study in college. 
Camren, who knew she was going to be a chemist from the time she first learned about chemistry, had told you she loved the competition – made it fun and kept things interesting. And there you were, going to school for Pre-Med with the same feeling. The two of you kept in contact, updating each other on the strive for greatness in college as well.
You kept a close relationship with a lot of your teachers, making sure to get on their good side before classes had really begun. You emailed most of them, especially your Anatomy and Physiology professor, Dr. Sahnya Heinz.
She was incredibly skilled in her field, leaving the active medical field to teach the new and future minds of medicine. It was a cliche line she delivered on the first day, but it encouraged that familiar competitive fire that dwelled within you.
You don’t quite remember how you came to figure out that Jake was ahead of you, but you had found out somehow from your professor, although it was an accident.
It made everything in you burn with anger and frustration. Anytime someone mentioned him, or mentioned the fact that you were second, you clenched your jaw and your teeth gritted together. Your friends had an inside joke that you were only mad because you had a huge crush on him.
“I barely even know what he looks like, Mel! I fucking hate the guy. Don’t start shit.” You’d plead, beer can in your hand in the lounge of some fraternity floor.
Over the next few semesters, you kept trying your hardest, spending most of your free time in the library, reading everything that you could to prepare for every exam. You wrote papers early, having them done at least three weeks in advance. As soon as you would be told about a new one, you’d immediately start finding sources.
You sauntered around campus, thinking that you would be way ahead of him. He still never showed up to any classes, aside from orientation and exam periods. You’d stare at him for a few moments while the teacher passed out the exam, looking over his face as much as you could.
His long hair would obscure your vision on occasion, making it hard to catch any of his features at all. From what you could see though, he had nice, full lips. His nose was something you could have stared at the entire exam period.
You watched him as he licked his lips, whispering a thank you to Heinz before grabbing his pencil from his desk and getting to work. You looked away from him as soon as Heinz put your exam on your desk, offering her a small smile and a quick thank you before getting to work.
It was almost spring break, meaning some of your assignments had been slowing, some of them had been increasing. A group of your friends from different majors told you about one of the lounge parties a fraternity on campus was throwing. “Sigma Tau has the worst lounge parties, Tamia. You know this.”
“They’re joining forces with the Delta’s though, so it’ll be better than normal! You have to come, you’ve always got your nose in a book. You haven’t drank with us in so long, I forget what you’re like when you’re drunk.”
“I don’t know… I need to work on this Midterm paper I have in Kainz’s class, it’s due next week.”
“Babe, it’s been done for weeks! You just keep editing it trying to find mistakes and there are none! I’ve literally read it five times. Please, go out with us, just tonight?”
You looked between Tamia and Mel, knowing in the end you would give into them anyways. “Ugh, fine! Tonight, and tonight only, just this once. If I don’t like it, though, I’m leaving and going to bed early.”
“You’ll have so much fun, I swear!” Mel and Tamia looked between each other, sharing expressions of excitement and happiness on their faces. You rolled your eyes, standing up from your chair.
You let them raid your closet, trying to throw something together quickly. Most of the time, Tamia and Mel never obeyed the dress code for the lounge parties, hating the idea of giving into the male gaze of the fraternity brothers. Tonight, however, was a bit different. The theme was Western, meaning it was cowboy hats and very tiny shorts.
You looked over the outfit that laid out in front of you, straw cowboy hat that Tamia had bought from Amazon (one for each of you), a pair of short shorts that may or may not show your ass a bit, and a red bandana top that Mel let you borrow last semester that you forgot to return. “I don’t know about this. I don’t even have the right shoes.”
“You forget we wear the same size, bitch, you’re going. No backing out.” They joked, tossing you a pair of white boots. “Just put that shit on while we heat up the curling iron, okay?”
“Fine, fine, okay.” You peel off your shirt, throwing on the one they picked out. Next to go were your pajama pants, which were replaced by the shorts. You kept the same socks on, knowing that nobody would see them anyways with the boots going up to the middle of your calf muscle. “I look fucking ridiculous.”
“You look fucking hot, now sit down while we do your hair and makeup,” Mel spoke, pulling out your desk chair while Tamia smiled wickedly with the curling wand in hand. You were nervous, looking at the both of them, but the good kind that settled under your skin and was left hidden behind the smallest smile.
You talked about upcoming exams with them while they did your hair and makeup, much to their dismay. They attempted to fill you in on the various drama situations going on around campus while you had been heavily plugged into your textbooks. You gasped often, finding shock and awe in some of the things they had been telling you about classmates.
They spoke about Jake, letting it slip that he had been planning on attending the party, joined at the hip with one of the girls he had been rumored to have been dating. One of the many. “Ugh, he just sounds like a douche. Gives me even more reason to hate him.”
“We’re not feeding into your delusion that he’s some douchebag. Dropping it.” Tamia spoke, putting her hands up in a surrender. Mel laughed, pulling away from you with an eyeliner pen in hand. “Maybe we’ll get you drunk enough to admit you like him.”
“I don’t like him, and I thought we were dropping the topic.” You looked at Tamia in the mirror, watching her face deadpan as she looked back at you.
“I have something hot in my hands, don’t be rude to me.” The three of you laughed, getting back into the rhythm of getting ready. You let them do their thing to you, curling the last bit of your hair and putting the finishing touches of highlighter on your brow bone.
You looked at yourself in the mirror, marveling at the job they did. You thanked them for getting you all dolled up, watching them change into their outfits. It was mostly just them taking off the sweats they were wearing, throwing them over the back of your desk chair. You took a few pictures with them in your mirror before finally deciding to head out.
The party had started a half an hour ago, walking into the party late like most people did. The three of you got in easily with matching the dress code, immediately looking for the drinks table. The boys in charge handed the three of you a free shot of anything you wanted. Mel chose for you, starting the night out roughly with a shot of Svedka.
You grabbed a Sprite from one of the boys in one hand, the shot of Svedka in the other. The three of you tapped your glasses together before downing the shot. The alcohol burned as it slipped down your throat, trying to soothe it with the taste and coolness of the Sprite. You shook a bit, throwing the cup away in a nearby trash can.
“That was fucking gross, I hate you so much for choosing Svedka.”
“I could’ve chosen something even more nasty, like Jack.” Mel laughed, leading the three of you over to a section in the lounge where you could stand a decent enough distance away from one another, instead of being piled on top of one another.
“I would have rather taken a shot of Jack, Mel.” You spoke, sipping more of your Sprite. Tamia pointed out a few of the people they had talked about earlier, letting you put names to faces.
In the midst, two of the Sigma brothers decided to start a dance battle, capturing the attention of those around them. Everyone joined in, gathering around the two guys. Mel and Tamia joined too, but you had slipped out of their grasp by telling them you had to use the bathroom.
You were happy to escape the party, sneaking out with a bottle of Smirnoff the boys had left unattended. You walked outside, taking a deep breath in. You were thankful to be met with the smell of fresh air, not smelling sweat and booze everywhere. Your peace and tranquility was ruined by someone’s voice, “Well, don’t you look adorable.”
Your head snapped towards the voice, seeing Jake sitting up against the bike rack with a cigarette between his fingers. “Shut up.”
“What? I can’t compliment you?”
“No,” you started, crossing your arms with the bottle still in your hand. “No, you can’t.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I hate you.” Jake looked at you, up and down, taking a drag of his cigarette. You screwed off the cap of the bottle, taking a pull. You tried your hardest to not make a face, looking away slightly when the familiar sting settled in your throat.
“Why do you hate me? I’ve never spoken to you before.”
“Do I have to have a reason?” You asked, walking closer to him.
“Suppose not. But if I knew why you hated me,” he tossed his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping on it with his boot. “Then maybe I could find a way to make you not hate me.”
“Unless you flunk your next exam, I guarantee that won’t happen.”
“Oh, I get it.” He chuckled, standing up from the bike rack he was leaning against. He grabbed his cigarette butt up from the ground, tossing it into the nearest garbage can. He turned towards you, staring at you with his brown eyes. “You’re just mad because I’m smarter than you.”
“You’re never in class. You shouldn’t be ahead of me.” You glared at him, lips moving into a frown.
“Just because I’m never there doesn’t mean I’m not getting the information. I work five, sometimes six days a week. We only have class three days a week. Typically, I gotta work those days. Heinz sends me the powerpoints and the assignment notes so I never miss anything.”
“Oh yeah? Where do you even work then?” You asked.
He chuckled, fingers brushing yours that were wrapped around the bottle. “Now if I told you that, it would ruin all the fun,” he looked you up and down once more, licking his lips slightly. “Well, maybe I’ll see you and your bottle inside.” 
You waited til the doors closed behind him to roll your eyes, and huff outwardly. You took the bottle of Smirnoff, turned on your heels and walked towards your dorm hall. You hated Jake. You really hated Jake.
Your midterms came and went. The stress decreased slightly, but only to be raised again as the end of the semester loomed around. Assignments started piling up, various papers and presentations due all around the same week. Since the end of Spring Break, you had been holed up in your room, left to your mountains of homework.
Your Microbio class had a presentation due that coincided with the research project you had been working on all semester long. Human Anatomy and Physiology (or affectionately known as BIO 312) had a major cumulative exam on the entire semester, which stressed you out more than any other homework assignment or exam you had.
Thankfully, your school held an all day event that attempted to boost the morale of the students on campus. Filled with a bunch of free things, you took advantage of everything offered.
Lined up on tables were various student organizations set up, with their own little games and prizes. A few of them had speakers that played the music they wanted to listen to, all speakers attempting to outman the other. However, the one that ended up winning was a tie dye station located in the lawn, handing out free t-shirts to dye.
One of the guys at the tie dye station had a wide smile on his face while his hands were dripping with dye. Setting your prizes down at a table where Tamia and Mel had put their things, you walked over to him. He welcomed you over with a smile, “Hey! Lookin’ to tie dye?”
“Yeah, I’m a medium.” You smiled at him, blocking the sun with your hand. He called over to Benny, asking him to pull a medium out for you. Benny handed you the shirt with a smile. “I’ve never dyed anything before.”
“Never?! That’s a crime against mankind, darlin’, let’s get this shirt dyed.” He spoke, talking you over the colors in each of the buckets. He explained to you some basic color theory, although you had remembered that from your high school painting class, you didn’t stop him; he was pretty when he spoke.
The curls on his head stuck out from the shaved sides, the gold of his earrings stood out underneath the blistering April sun. He licked his lips often, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. He helped you pick out the style you wanted, making sure the rubber bands were placed exactly where you wanted them. “I’ll dip them in the bucket for you so you don’t get your hands dirty.”
“Thank you. I could’ve managed on my own, but I definitely appreciate it.”
“Of course. What’s your name?” You offer up to him, before he lets out a chuckle. You question him with a pull of your eyebrows. “Jake talks about you.”
“You know Jake?”
“Yeah, he’s my twin.” As soon as the word left his mouth, you could see the resemblance; you almost scolded yourself for not realizing it sooner. They were similar, especially in their features and their eyes, although the two of them had very distinct color differences. Josh, as he told you after dropping the bomb on you, had warmer eyes, filled with caramel colored hues of brown in relation to Jake’s colder tones; his eyes were a darker shade of brown, with the occasional gleam of flirtation laced within the reflection.
He spoke quite differently from Jake, mostly just with the sound of his voice. It matched their eyes, their personalities. Josh’s bright, bubbly stature followed in his voice, almost theatrical as he spoke. “I guess that makes sense, you two do kind of look alike. Minus the hair, of course.”
“Well, of course. Mine’s better,” you liked that about him - how kind his tone was. You attempted to grill him about what Jake was saying about you, curiosity flowing violently through your bloodstream as if it lit your body on fire. “He just says that you’re second in the Bio class you have with him, and that it makes you mad.”
“It does, Jake’s never there. I’ve seen him three times, and two of those times were for exams.” Josh wrung out the part that had been soaking in the dye for a bit, watching the water fall back into the bucket.
“Yeah, it’s cause he’s working all the time, if I’m honest. Jake stays home during the week to work at the nursing home in our hometown. We don’t really have a large CNA population, most of the people who work there are highschool kids, so Jake’s really been their guy. Especially since high school, as soon as he graduated he moved to full time. All the old ladies love him.” He snorts, dipping your shirt into the blue dye.
“I didn’t know that.” You thought he was lying about where he was, which is why guilt started to eat away at you. You felt terrible for making assumptions, but you couldn’t take any of that back now.
“Jake doesn’t talk to a lot of people, but we love him anyway.” You chewed at your bottom lip, rethinking your opinion of Jake. “You goin’ to the concert later tonight?”
“Hadn’t decided. Mel and Tamia want to, so I’ll probably end up going. Are you?”
“Yeah, I think I’ll probably go.”
“Do you know who’s playing?”
“Some local band I think? I’ve heard a lot of the girls think the frontman’s pretty handsome.” He spoke with a smirk. You promised him you’d go, just to see if the girls had been right. He handed you your t-shirt to hold while he grabbed you a plastic bag. He also handed you a piece of paper with instructions on how to take care of your new tie dye.
“Make sure when you wash it, you wash it by itself. Otherwise, you’ll dye all of your other clothes and believe me, you don’t want that,” he chuckled, as if he was speaking from experience.
You thanked him with a warm smile, waving to him before returning to your room. As soon as you got back, you opened your window, allowing the air flow to travel inside. It kept you cool, allowing you to walk around comfortably with a t-shirt and shorts on. You put your plastic bag in the closet of your room, writing on your white board to remember to take it out and wash it tomorrow.
You texted Mel and Tamia, knowing that Mel would probably have some smart comeback about why you want to go to the concert. It wasn’t that you didn’t join them on nights out, you just had a lot riding on your academic success. Not only because you were the first one in your family to go to college, but also because of your mass of scholarships that only continued to flow if your GPA was at a suitable level. Anything below a 3.2, and you would lose almost all of them.
To: The 3 Dumb Sluts
Are we going to the concert tonight?
From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Mel
Are you offering to come with us without us needing to beg and plead for you to join?
To: The 3 Dumb Sluts
Don’t make me take it back, Mel
From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Tamia
We’re absolutely going. Come to mine whenever you want to get ready :)
To: The 3 Dumb Sluts
The doors open at 8 right? I’ll be over about 5:30-6ish. Gotta finish up this paper for Heinz real quick
You locked your phone before they could scold you for doing homework on a day that was designated for relaxation and recuperation. You pulled out your Anat and Physio binder, pulling out the sources you printed off in the library. You ran through the last one with a blue highlighter between your teeth. 
You set an alarm on your phone for five o’clock, saving enough time for you to shower.  You were about halfway through the last page when your timer went off. You silenced it, attempting to hurriedly finish highlighting the page. The article was placed onto your desk, highlighter returned to the cup on your desk filled with various writing utensils.
You pulled out your shower caddy, putting it on top of your dresser before pulling out your robe. You laid it over the edge of your bed, removing all of your clothes. You threw them into your hamper and put on your robe. You slipped on your slides, grabbed your caddy and traveled to the bathroom.
Underneath the uneven streams from the showerhead, you thought about Jake.
Maybe your first impressions of him were wrong. When Josh told you about the nursing home back in their hometown, you felt instantaneously bad for assuming that he just never showed up. You knew from what Jake had told you, that he had work, but you figured that was just an excuse.
You bit at the skin of your lips, hands on your shoulders as you soaked the warmth of the water in. You were pulled out of your thoughts very quickly as someone flushed the toilet, making the water fade in from super hot to super fucking cold. You hated the school’s water system.
You finished your shower quickly, drying off with the towel slightly before putting your robe on and throwing your hair up into your towel. You walked back into your room, locking it behind you. You set your caddy back where it originally was.
You threw on a pair of jean shorts that hadn’t seen the light of day since early October, pairing it with a long sleeve shirt that you had gotten back in high school for Christmas. It was plain, brown, but hugged your body well. The sweatshirt debate lasted a few seconds before you remembered how hot it was going to be outside. A record temperature for mid-April, almost 80 degrees outside.
When you checked your phone getting back from the shower, it was just barely five thirty. You texted the groupchat again, asking if it would be cool to come over a half an hour earlier than you had originally said. You knew it was a dumb question, you would always be welcome in their room. You chuckled at Mel’s response of, “Are you fucking dumb? Of course you can come over. Bring wine if you have any left! No carry-in’s allowed at the concert.”
You put your phone down for a second and slipped on a pair of shoes that were comfortable enough for you to stand in for a long time. They used to be white, but had gotten progressively dirty from the years of use. You shoved your phone in your back pocket and slid a few different bottles of wine into your backpack, separated by extra clothing so the bottles didn’t clink together.
You walked down the stairs, out the door and over to the other dorm building across the walkway. You scanned your keycard to get into the building, walking through the hallways waving to the RA on duty, McKenna. She had been in a few of your classes and was always incredibly nice.
Her room this year was actually a few down from where you were living. McKenna was a great RA, knowing exactly how to handle the rowdiness of the floor while still keeping the resident’s respect. She didn’t bother them unless she needed to, and they didn’t bother her unless needed. She kept it underwraps about the underage drinking that would inevitably happen, mostly by telling the floor they could do what they want, as long as they were quiet by quiet hours (which was around ten thirty on the weekdays, and one in the morning on the weekends).
You took the elevator to the second floor of East Sunderland, getting off as soon as the doors opened. The booths that had previously been up had begun to dissipate, bringing the plastic tables back into the buildings they belonged in. You took a last glance at the people cleaning before heading into Mel and Tamia’s dorm building.
You knocked on the door, coming as soon as you announced yourself to Mel and Tamia. The girls laughed as you walked in, looking at a picture of Mel from when they were a kid. The two of them showed it to you as you settled your bag onto Mel’s chair in the corner of their room. “Your buck teeth! Oh my God, you were adorable, Mel.”
“Oh shut up, I bet you didn’t look any better.” Mel spoke to Tamia, making the three of you laugh. “Anyways, what wine did you bring?”
“The Barefoot we didn’t finish the other weekend, and then I still had some Rose, so I brought those over too. I wasn’t sure what we were feeling.” Tamia pulled some glasses from her shelves, passing them out to the two of you. You filled their glasses with the Rose you brought.
The three of you talked specifics on the plans for tonight, hitting up another fraternity party as soon as the concert ended. There were two separate ones going on at the same time, so the two of you weighed your options over which one to go to. “The Sigs are throwing one, but I’d rather die. Delta’s throwing one, too, we’ll go to theirs instead. And maybe see if anyone’s at the Sig party that we like and stop there before heading back to the dorms.”
You walked down with them to the Athletic Department, hoping to have gotten there early enough to get a good spot. As soon as the doors opened, you were filtered through the doors, making sure that you were students with the college. The three of you half ran to the barricade, settling yourselves against it on the right side, although still somewhat in the middle.
The show wouldn’t start for quite some time yet, the three of you talked amongst yourselves about upcoming finals, what you had to do for various classes. You also found a few people around you to chat to while you waited, hearing laughter roaring through various parts of the crowd.
A few students from the Admissions Office had taken the stage, playing a random playlist of music that matched what the band was going to be playing. Rock thundered through the speakers, filling audience members with anticipation. Rochel addressed the student body, “Hello everyone!” welcomed by the sounds of cheers and screaming.
“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before the band comes on stage, so help us warm them up to the stage!” Everyone clapped, although some of the girls around you looked unenthused as they stared down at their phones. You checked yours for any text messages from any family members. You had nothing, so you put it back in your pocket.
Around four songs played before Rochel turned the microphone on again. Everyone shouted before she talked. “Well, it’s that time! Please, give a warm welcome to Greta Van Fleet!”
Rochel and the two other students walked off the stage, passing by what you had assumed to be one of the band members. He sat behind the drums, smiling and waving off into the crowd. You cheered for him along with Tamia and Mel, cheering just as loud when their bassist walked onto the stage. Both of their hair was longer, goofy smiles on their faces as they got situated with their instruments.
Your mouth hung open as you watched the last two boys walk on stage, seeing the twins. Jake’s eyes scanned the crowd as he slung his guitar over his shoulder. He found you after a moment, sending a smirk your way. You closed your mouth, glaring at him. Mel laughed at you, noticing your demeanor shift. “How we doin’ tonight everyone?”
Everyone cheered. “A lot of you might know me and Jake, seen us on campus and stuff. It’s wonderful to see all of you here, coming to support us as we celebrate the onslaught of spring! It’s been a particularly warm one today, so make sure to drink water! There’s plenty to go around.”
Jake started them off, pick between his fingers as he strummed the beginning chords to one of their songs. Some of the girls had begun to scream, shouting at Jake’s response to Josh’s little speech before he began playing. His signature smirk formed, watching the girls go crazy, eyes scanning the crowd before he found you again.
As Jake continued to play, he looked over to you any time he could. It was hard to tear your eyes away from him, enthralled by the way he looked on stage. You tried your hardest, truly, to look at any of the other boys on the stage aside from Jake but you just couldn’t. He fit the stage just right, bringing the attention away from Josh and demanding to be seen by the entirety of the crowd. He belonged up there.
Jake went to the center of the stage during his solo. Josh lingered around the drummer, keeping to himself, drinking whatever was in his cup. They kept on playing as Jake took the spotlight, everyone cheering and screaming for him. You kept silent, wanting to hear him play. His fingers worked against the frets of the guitar, not before sliding down and up it quickly. 
You tried to hide the awe you were in, but your friends knew. They saw it written all over your face. The frustration and annoyance you felt when you first spotted Jake on stage dissipated the second his guitar solo began. You swallowed thickly, watching as his attention turned from his guitar to you, pointing it in your direction. Your cheeks flushed, and your thighs pressed together.
This was going to be a long night.
The second the concert was over, Josh thanked everyone for coming. His smile was wide as he waved goodbye to everyone, walking off next to Jake who had his guitar by the neck before he passed it off to one of the stage hands. Josh put his hands on his shoulders as they walked off stage.
You stuck around mostly waiting for the crowd to die down before trying to leave the building. Mel and Tamia talked about the show, saying that it was fucking dope, commenting on how excellent Jake’s playing was. You didn’t speak about Jake’s playing, mostly praising Josh for his spectacular performance. “I never expected that voice to come out of him, how heavenly.”
“Talking about me?” Jake cuts through your conversation, walking over to you with Josh not far behind. You roll your eyes. Tamia and Mel congratulate him on such an amazing performance, gushing about how sweet his guitar looks. “Why thank you, ladies.”
“Mel! I didn’t think you were going to be able to come.” He gushed, wiping his hands on the sides of his khaki shorts he had changed into.
“Yeah, well, Miss Quiet over here wanted to see her archnemesis, didn’t you?”
“I-I–” You turned your head slightly towards Jake, who had an amused smirk written all over his face. “I did not, Mellie, stop lying.”
“By the redness of your cheeks, sweetheart, I’d say she was telling the truth.” You had barely noticed that Mel, Tamia and Josh had slipped away from the two of you, leaving you alone.
“I didn’t even know you were playing.” You admitted shyly, hiding underneath a guise of innocence.
“Even if you did, you looked pretty hot and bothered by my playing.” You held the back of your arms, trying hard to maintain eye contact with him. You looked into his eyes, they were staring straight at you.
“Yeah, sure. I actually came because Josh said he was going. He neglected to mention that he was going to be singing,” you looked at Josh who wore a smile that read ‘guilty as charged’ before patting you on the shoulder.
“Hey, you didn’t ask. You just asked if I was going.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled slightly. “Anyways, Sam and Danny are gonna spend the night in my room, so I’ll have to find somewhere else to be tonight. Are you guys going to either of the frat parties tonight?”
“We’re going to the Delta party. The Sigs’ reputation is not the best, and I don’t feel like seeing whether or not it’s right.”
“That is completely understandable. I shall see you ladies there then. You coming, Jake? We still have a lot to put away.”
“Yeah, in a second,” he turned towards Josh who had begun to walk away, waving him off before turning back to the three of you. “I hope you guys enjoyed the show, maybe I’ll catch up with you at the party.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah, actually, I would.” He smiled at you before joining the other boys cleaning up their amps and cords.
“Jesus Christ, the two of you just need to fuck or something. I don’t think I can handle another interaction like that,” Mel joked, making a gagging face when she finishes her sentence. You pushed at her arm, turning around and walking out of the gym.
Tamia and Mel giggled profusely about your and Jake’s rivalry. The two even started making bets on when the two of you would finally ‘get it on’, as Tamia put it. You just rolled your eyes at the conversation, changing the subject to something different.
The party, though filled with lots of fun and drinking, was a bust. While Josh had shown up with his younger brother and his brother’s friend, as you learned, in tow, Jake was nowhere to be found. You thought to ask Josh why he wasn’t there, but he was too busy dancing with Micah. Through the grapevine, you learned that Micah and Josh had been together since high school.
You stayed around the party for almost two hours before you wanted to go back. A small part of you had wished Jake had actually come. You wondered if maybe the two of you would get along if you put your competitive nature aside. You tried not to dwell on thoughts of Jake’s absence for too long, wanting to enjoy the rest of the night with your girls. But when you had enough of the party, you shouted in Mel’s ear to let her know you wanted to leave.
Mel and Tamia had made sure you got back alright about two hours into the party. Your legs were tired and your feet had begun to hurt. The two of them stumbled with you back to the door of your building, making sure you were inside before leaving to go back. They almost came in with you, until you insisted otherwise.
Laying on your bed with your head pointed towards the ceiling you started thinking about Jake again. What was his reason for not being at the party? Did he just make those comments beforehand just to rile you up? It seemed like the only valid reason your impaired mind could come up with.
You grabbed your phone, almost dropping it on the floor. You sluggishly opened Instagram, and searched for Jake’s profile. You scrolled through, looking at the few photos he did have on his page. Most of the pictures he had were of his guitar, or places he’s traveled. You were sent into a panic when you realized you had accidentally liked an older picture of Jake’s, one from freshman year of college. Hurriedly, you unliked it and immediately locked your phone.
That had been a few days ago.
Now it was Wednesday and your first final exam was here. It was for the class you shared with Jake, BIO 312.  It wasn’t exactly final exam time, but Professor Heinz was going to be away at a conference for a week starting Friday. You didn’t mind, though, since it spaced out your other finals enough to have a decent amount of time to study for them.
You sat at your desk, looking over your notecards one last time before the exam began. A frequent look around the room and you noticed Jake walking in, going to a random seat a couple rows in front of you. He set his bag down next to him, before bending down to grab his laptop. He noticed you watching him and sent a wink your way.
You looked away as you tried to hide the rush of rosy skin that fanned over your cheeks and heated up your ears. You tried to ignore him again until at least when the test started, embarrassed that you got caught looking at him. Your phone pinged and you pulled it out of your bag to look at it, as well as turn it on silent.
jacobtkiszka wants to send you a message.
You swallowed and hit the notification taking you straight to the message.
“Person who turns their test in last pays for coffee?”
Your lips curved into a small smile, feeling your fingers type the first thing that comes to your head.
“Hope you brought your wallet with you, Kiszka.”
You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and shoved it back into your bag. The professor walked through the door, setting her things down on the desk in the front of the room. Her coffee mug still had steam coming from it, freshly poured. A quick look of her watch after getting settled and it was time to start the exam. “Okay, everyone. It’s time for class. Take out your laptops and begin your exam. You may leave when you have finished. Thank you for a great semester, and good luck.”
The questions on the exam were all ones that you knew and had studied for for weeks. It was strenuous, trying to remember everything on the cumulative exam. You had hoped it would go quickly and you would answer them faster than Jake could. Occasionally, you turned to look at Jake, seeing if maybe he was trying to look at you too.
With one question left of your exam, you click the answer and press submit after a minute of debate. You had a bad habit of second guessing yourself occasionally; it was actually the bane of your testing experiences. You hated when you felt confident about an answer, until you really sat with the other possible answers it could be.
You put your laptop back into your bag, zipped it up and noticed that Jake had already left. You cursed to yourself, knowing that now you had to buy Jake a coffee. You waved goodbye to your professor with a smile and walked out the doors. Jake sat outside of the classroom at one of the tables they had throughout the building. “Whatcha reading?”
“Josh recommended it to me, but I’m going to be honest, I fucking hate this book.” He laughed, shoving it into his bag. “You know any good coffee shops around here? I’m kind of tired of Starbucks.”
“I just so happen to know the best coffee shop in town, but it is a bit of a walk, if you don’t mind that?” You asked, walking through the door that Jake was holding before muttering a thank you to him. 
“I could also drive, if you’re okay with that.”
“I’m more than okay with that,” you chuckle, letting him know that your dorm building had enough stairs; any chance you could get to use an elevator, or get driven somewhere, you would take that opportunity in a heartbeat.
The drive was short in comparison to the twenty minute walk it would have taken to get to the shop. Jake tried to offer the radio to you, but you let him play what he wanted to listen to. You didn’t know exactly who was playing, but the blues music that played through the speakers was a breath of fresh air.
Your typical shuffle had a plethora of music from differing genres, whether that be rap or old country. You hadn’t known much when it came to blues music, especially the difference between good blues music and bad. Eventually, you got the courage to ask who was playing and Jake answered, letting you know that the song was by Buddy Guy. “It’s called She Suits Me To A T. I tried for weeks to learn this song when I first started playing music more seriously.”
“This is the coffee shop, at the next corner.” You watched his hand as he made a right turn, noticing him steering with just the palm of his hand. Letting the leather steering wheel glide back to its original position in his hand, elbow propped on the door with the window rolled down.
It’s all you thought about on your way into the coffee shop, completely relying on autopilot. Your responses to Jake were almost textbook, one word sentences that could continue the conversation without much effort. “What’re you thinking of getting?”
“Oh, um, I’m not sure. I usually have them surprise me,” you admit, shoving your hands into your jacket. “Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not. That’s the gamble you take.”
“I like that a lot, actually. I think I’ll have them surprise me too, if you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all.” You smiled at Jake before he went to order for the two of you. You found a place to sit in the meantime, offering a spot towards the windows so you could watch people come and go, each on their own paths of life.
By the time Jake sat down, both of the coffees were in his hand. After a few questions, Jake set the iced drink down in front of you, and the hot drink in front of himself. “Yours is an iced chai, with brown sugar syrup and vanilla. Mine is some sort of tea, I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying. I just wanted to remember what she put in yours in case you liked it.”
“Oh,” you spoke, bringing the cup towards you. “Thank you, that’s really sweet. Do you like your drink?”
“You know, it’s really not bad. I wouldn’t have gotten it otherwise, but it’s really not bad.”
“You hate it.”
“I hate it. It’s not good.” The two of you chuckled before you offered him a sip of your drink. “Mhmm,” he moaned. “That’s good, oh my God.”
The two of you continued small talk, whether it was over the classes you had previously taken, memories of parties from past years – anything. You shared previous high school experiences, mostly about the ridiculous things that were considered parties in your teenage years.
Conversation with Jake was surprisingly a lot easier than you thought it would be. Especially since you’ve hated him pretty much your entire college career. You figured he’d be stuck up, aware of his academic achievements and ready to flaunt them in front of anyone who’d listen.
He was the opposite. His sentences were wrapped with kindness, and the reflection in his voice seemed nothing but positive. His voice was like silk, he could’ve talked you into damn near anything as long as his voice sounded like that. It hurt when the conversation slowed, spending a few moments to take in the scene around you two, as well as finally being able to drink more of your drink (which was very delicious, it was almost like crack).
“How long have you been playing guitar?” You asked after the silence became almost uncomfortable to sit with.
“Oh jeez. I’ve been playing since I was… like three? Yeah, three.” You stared at him with eyes slightly wide, mouth agape. “What?”
“N-Nothing, that’s just a really long time. You’re what, 21 now?” He clarified that he was only twenty, his birthday roughly a week away. You poked fun at him, mentioning how you were older, even if it was by less than a year.
“Josh is throwing us a birthday party, if you want to come. Since it’ll be our 21st, we’re having it at our parents cabin on Lake Michigan. You’re welcome to bring Mel and Tamia if you’d like. Sam and Danny are going to be there, even though they’re underage, but we’re gonna pretend like they’re older.” Jake spoke with one last sip of his drink, letting the empty cup echo on the table as he set it down.
“I will let Mel and Mia know. I can’t make any sure decisions without talking to them first, but I’m pretty damn sure that they’ll say they would love to go.”
“Yeah, I don’t think they’ll say no either. They seem pretty adamant that you have a little crush on me or something,” he said, putting your cups inside of a bus tub to be picked up and washed.
“I don’t have a crush on you,” you laughed, walking out of the coffee shop with Jake. “I actually hate you, remember?”
“You may say that you hate me, but you’re not really good at showing it.”
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usermakki · 2 years ago
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hello lovely! Hope you're well! Maybe I'm interpreting it wrong but I keep thinking about how if tsaheylu is such a comforting bonding action, do you think the na'vi only join during mating or in other cute private moments too? I can't stop thinking about tsaheylu whilst cooking together or just star gazing/cloud watching and soaking in each others existence - how do you think the avatar mens relationships might incorporate tsaheylu into the little moments with their loved ones??????
author’s note ; ANON!!! ARE YOU LIVING INSIDE MY WALLS?? i was Literally thinking about this concept a few days ago.. so like the nerd that i am, i did a Lot of research on this topic and, no joke, i read a ton of official content about na’vi culture and customs; but tsaheylu is only described as a neural connection served to share sensory information between the na’vi, pandora and its’ creatures. but the fun of fandom is that i can make with that whatever i want ;) also, wasn’t in the mood to make a header or post separately :p
pairing: neteyam, lo’ak, tsu’tey, jake, ao’nung, rotxo, tonowari x reader
content ; tsaheylu as a bonding pastime and a form of affection, established relationship + mating bond, afab!pregnant!reader, na’vi!reader, dreamwalker!reader, eyktanay!neteyam, children + parenting, fluff, aged-up!characters, lowercase intended
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・・・・・・  ɴᴇᴛᴇʏᴀᴍ
  ﹒ɞ  during meals by virtue of being so busy with his eyktanay duties, the second in command in the clan after his father, neteyam ensures to cherish all of the moments he gets to spend with you, as sparse as they may be. he makes sure to hunt your favorite meats and harvest the tastiest of fruits, with only your satisfaction at the forefront of his mind. whether you choose to have your meals on the communal grounds, or separately, at your marui, or any other place, neteyam aims for your comfort. he will let you accommodate yourself, always giving you some space to sort yourself out—but the moment you sit down alongside him, he's quick and eager, carefully grabbing both of your kuru and performing the connection. neither of you minds whoever is near, as you prepare the food to your liking, all the while sitting so close you feel like one. the physical proximity only intensifies the tsaheylu, it makes your skin prickle with sensitivity, hairs standing on end, only soothed by the warm touch of his hand on your hips, shoulder, and arms. there's no need for talking, aside from quips and short comments regarding his duties, anything else is shared through the bond, picked up by your neural tendrils and felt deep in your being. the food tastes better, your responsibilities are merely distant thoughts, there’s not a single worry in your mind, and all because of him.
・・・・・・  ʟᴏ'ᴀᴋ
  ﹒ɞ  when cuddling i say that lo'ak performs tsaheylu with you the second most out of all of them. he is an affectionate person by nature, always craving your touch and connection, and the familiarity it brings with it. he enjoys spending all of his free time with you, either in the presence of others or by yourselves, but he prefers to keep the action of bonding just between you two. whether you're unwinding at your marui after a long day, or cuddling into his side at the shore as you watch the sunset, there's no doubt that either of you has reached out to connect your tswin just as you arrived. it is a comforting practice, having you pressed against him as you enjoy the leisure waves of your emotions washing over the both of you. pair that with his physical intimacy, in the form of a gentle stroke of your hair, the faint graze of his fingertips along your skin, his tail playfully flicking at yours, the low murmur of his voice next to your ear, and you're sure to reach nirvana. it's not uncommon for both of you to fall asleep like this, tangled in one another, swayed and lulled into slumber with the only thought in your minds being each other.
・・・・・・  ᴛꜱᴜ'ᴛᴇʏ
  ﹒ɞ  while performing your chores it took quite some time for your human mind to comprehend the spiritual and physical importance of the kuru to the na'vi. tsu'tey had slowly guided you through the process of bonding with a pa'li and an ikran, patient with the minimal grasp you had over his customs and culture, all the while, you were completely unaware of his desire to bond with you, or of that being a possibility, even. now that you are bonded, he is overtly eager to perform the tsaheylu with you in your day-to-day; of getting to feel all of your emotions, and acquaintance himself with all of your thoughts, desires, and fears. it's exhilarating and domestic in a way you wouldn't ever think capable of being. any time you are at your marui, cleaning, weaving, tsu'tey is always at your side, tswin connected to yours, as he partakes in his own activities. you can feel the shivers along his skin, the itching thought that plagues him, that warm, fluttering feeling whenever he gazes at you. time goes by quickly like that, with neither of you noticing or caring—too enthralled by the intimacy and the distinct softness of your affection for one another, with no need for touch.
・・・・・・  ᴊᴀᴋᴇ
  ﹒ɞ  while caring for your children parenthood came easy for both you and your mate, it just felt right from the beginning, when you held your firstborn for the first time and everything just clicked into place. jake loves spending time with the kids, and it seems that it's all that you do as of lately—four children are quite a handful, after all. and so, in the middle of all the craziness of your family life, you separate a few moments for yourselves, to be connected and present for one another, through the tsaheylu. be it during a cuddle pile, as your children snore and drool over the both of you, or as you bathe them in a lake one by one, both feeling all the happiness and love doubled through the bond as you watch your kids splash each other and play their small people games. the comfort the action brings is very grounding; a reminder that you're present with each other, as well as present for one another during all the moments of your lives, and your children's. jake loves feeling your emotions through the link, and he never forgets to sit down for a while and watch it all unfold, your bright smile and the gleam in your eyes. it's a special moment between all of his favorite people. 
・・・・・・  ᴀᴏ'ɴᴜɴɢ
  ﹒ɞ  as you prepare to sleep sob, sniffle, just thinking about ao'nung sorting out a time for you every night so you can talk over your day and bask in each other's presence <3 he gently takes your hand right as you enter your marui, careful not to drag you abruptly, and leads you toward the hammock so you can sit down to rest your swollen legs. you're accustomed to it by now, reaching for his kuru absentmindedly as he stands over you, spilling every single thought inside his head, while he dries the saltwater from your skin with a cloth—and if you take too long, he'll hastily connect your neural tendrils himself. his yearning to perform tsaheylu with you is adorable, not only because he adores you and always wishes to be tethered to you as one, but he aches to feel the child in your womb, as well. he places his forehead on your belly, speaking to you quietly in between the kisses he pecks over your skin. it is all very delicate and vulnerable, as you can feel all the affection he pours through the link, and it always brings tears to your eyes. that's his way of reaching out and connecting with you, of letting you feel all of the enthusiasm he doesn't outwardly show. 
・・・・・・  ʀᴏᴛxᴏ
  ﹒ɞ  when weaving and crafting your mate spends a lot of his time weaving and crafting you gifts, pouring much of his love into the craft. and it's no surprise that you're with him in those moments, either lying beside him as he works, or sitting so close to him he sometimes feels the need to ask for some space, or else his hands begin to falter. every time this happens, your tswin are linked, and you peacefully enjoy the quiet as you watch him work. you can feel all his dedication and affection through your connection, and it's all very sweet, as you watch his hands dexterously create something completely dedicated to you. the tsaheylu only strengthens rotxo's words and actions, not that there is any need for it, because he makes it very clear how devoted he is to you and the relationship. so you take the opportunity to let him know, and feel, how much he means to you, and how grateful you are for being so loved and taken care of—by thinking and remembering of all your favorite moments alongside him, so that he can feel all the love and devotion through the link. sometimes you're so intensely invested in this, that rotxo needs to stop weaving from how hard his hands are trembling.
・・・・・・  ᴛᴏɴᴏᴡᴀʀɪ
  ﹒ɞ  while counseling the clan people tonowari is such a busy man—both of you are, being leaders of your clan and ministering every decision and caring for all of the people. the time you spend together is scarce and it ends too soon; for most, that would be the cause of countless fights and the origin of unhappiness, but your love is strong and you nurture it every day through small, meaningful acts. Any time spent together is an opportunity to be as close and connected to each other as you can. So performing tsaheylu while tending and counseling the clan folk is common, and despite being such an intimate act, not a cause of embarrassment. in fact, being connected while making important decisions has proved to be very effective, as you can feel each other's emotions and thoughts through the tswin as if they were your own—it makes it easy to understand your mate and compromise with him. it makes for a beautiful impression, as you sit side by side in the middle of the dwelling, knees and thighs touching; tonowari expertly soothes and advises a hunter, meanwhile, you tenderly spread healing balm over the wound of another. it is a sentimental form of intimacy, a testimony of the devoted understanding in your relationship. where others see hassle, you and tonowari only see cooperation.
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rq-producerperson · 5 months ago
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Hello!
Basic question: any tips for getting into a career involved with creative stuff? (Anything, but specifically audio design and writing.)
Additional information about my specific situation I suppose: I'm heading into my second year of college, and have been working towards getting my degree in anthropology with the hope of going into artifact preservation/restoration. However that's kind of always been a... Second priority, I suppose, as I've always wanted to make a living off of my writing, but assumed that even if that was really possible, I should get a degree in something else.
Last year at school I was working as a stage tech for the college of the arts there (mainly for concerts, not theatre), and I loved it a ton and genuinely wouldn't mind a career in that vein.
The last three months I've been working a shitty assembly line job (9 hour days in a windowless room doing the same thing over and over and over and-). The only plus side to it is I've had plenty of time to listen to stuff, and I've gotten really into Magnus. The Q&A episodes and things like that made me realize that there are other things I could do (and love) in a creative vein than just writing. I'd also never considered that my enjoyment of doing tech for live stuff might translate outside of that, but I really genuinely think it would.
So next year I'm taking a bit of a jump and I'm going to be taking some of the introductory journalism courses at my school. (There's a film and media production emphasis under the major with plenty of room for more fiction-oriented work. And then grad school is something I've been seriously considering since I learned the word anthropology, so that's still very on the table if I choose to pursue this.)
This has been a really big switch for me, and quite frankly I'm terrified of getting stuck at a job like the one I currently have for the rest of my life, with a creative degree just rotting in the corner. (At least with anthropology there would probably be another five+ years of school after undergrad, so that was less of a looming issue.)
Just... Any advice on getting my foot in the door? Especially with hopes of eventually moving out of the states?
Sorry for such a long ask, I'm very bad at being brief. :p
Thank you!
Heya, thanks for the Ask. I’ve had this one sitting for a while thinking of the best way to answer, because the truth is that life is variable so I struggle to give what I feel is meaningful advice when the landscape is always shifting.
However, I’ll do my best with what I know.
The keys that I think are best are Patience, Perseverance, and People.
First, Patience.
I’ve mentioned this a few times but it’s important to remember, life changes quickly and the creative market is constantly shifting. Being able to pursue a job in the creative industry means having the patience to wait for the right wave to paddle to, the right gust to lift you up. But like with nature, there is never a guarantee that the winds or tides of fate will flow your way. There’s an element of chance to it.
You have to be prepared to change and take chances when you feel they are right for you. Shoot out before you’re comfortable and you’ll sink, wait too long and you’ll miss a great wave. I can’t give an answer to when is best to know your ready or what the right chance is to take. I CAN however advise that waiting, watching, and learning is the best chance to take that shot. So, learn as much as you can and stay curious and adaptable.
Second, Perseverance
When you have decided a path to trod, a wave to ride. You commit. Know how to move with the current and keep your focus. It’s easy to keep laying out options, but when you have found that Moment that’s right for you to act on your chosen course, you can go in half way.
Before RQ and during the first half of my employment here I was always working two jobs. I’ve done retail, freelance, post graduate work, office administration, accounting, entertainment hosting, you name it. I was an office assistant when I started at RQ but quickly knew that even though I couldn’t make money with it (it was still just Alex in a Yurt at that time), I wanted to commit to it, to make that job the best thing I could do, and I kept a simple day job to make ends meet. I got lucky, I found a mentor who taught me how to advocate for myself and that I had a creative voice after spending years being beaten down. But I also had the conviction and perseverance to know there was something worth building on.
And we did that together.
Which brings me to my last point, People.
You hear a lot in the creative industry that it’s “about Who you Know” and that’s true, but not entirely in the way you think. Learn about people, what their strengths are, how they compliment each other. Surround yourself with likeminded people that want to attain the same goal, have the same passions. Breaking through the creative industry cannot be done in a vacuum. Always make sure you have a support network of other passionate, skilled, and dedicated humans.
Don’t know how to meet people? I bet you do more than you think. Fandom was my in, not just from shooting my shot, but for teaching me how to work creatively with others. (I still try to do art companion work with fanfic writers when I can)
So yea, maybe it’s a standard answer or underwhelming, but the truth is there is no magic key. There’s Skill, Luck, Determination, and Community that make these kind of jobs possible.
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putschki1969 · 3 months ago
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2024/09/21 Blog post by Wakana いよいよ明日です!!〜前髪と屋形船と鬼面角〜
❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗
It's Finally Tomorrow!!〜Bangs, Houseboats and Cacti〜
Finally… Finally…The bud on my cactus has bloomed‼️(for reference, check out Wakana's Instagram post from Sep 13)
The flower of a Peruvian apple cactus!!! 🌼 It's beautiful…😭✨It really looks like the flowers of my Queen of the Night😊You can see how big it is compared to the palm of my hand. I'm so happy that such a big and beautiful flower has bloomed…😭✨I took a ton of pictures, so I'll post some today and the rest on another day (I want everyone to see them). I'll also post something on Instagram today, so please take a look at that too😊
Well, yesterday at the agency office, we had a final meeting for the upcoming FC event “Join Wakana! Houseboat Full-Course Tour”! \\\٩( 'ω' )و ////We've prepared an event that everyone can enjoy together… so please look forward to it! ! (((o(゚▽゚)o)))
Also, I've used the opportunity of being at the office to once again take on a selfie challenge 📸 It's already been a month since I got my bangs…I'm finally getting used to them😊 (I changed my smartphone recently so now I have Totoro on the back). My bangs are currently at a length where they are starting to bother me since they get in my eyes *laughs* It's been a while since I had bangs and I know why because my bangs are stubborn and wavy so it's really hard to keep them straight 😅I've been struggling with it every day for the past month…(Yesterday, I finally styled my bangs properly for the first time in a while. The styling was so robust that my bangs didn't get messy even when I walked outside in the heat…) For everyday hairstyles, bangs are really convenient and fun to arrange, but they're a real hassle 😅And I realised it would be impossible to have my bangs down for a live show 😂 I feel like they'd start to lose shape within the first few minutes of a concert😂 So… after thinking about it for a long time…I decided to just let them grow out again 🤣🤣 Major fail. Everyone, I am sorry to tell you that tomorrow and the day after tomorrow will be your last chance to see me with bangs😂 Please forgive me *laughs* Honestly, just thinking about a live performance is making me realise that bangs are just too difficult for me 😂
Last but not least, on my way home yesterday, I came across a lovely event taking place near my office, so here are some photos of it 📸 I have also posted a video on Instagram, so please check that out♡ (Wakana's Instagram post from Sep 20).
Even the entrance are for the event looked exciting😊 You can enjoy a drink on the grass while laying on a mat 😊The surrounding shops were also bustling. It was hot but everyone was drinking beer and having fun, I was jealous watching them 😊 I feel a little sad to see events like this and realise that the end of summer is near.
Those who have plans to join me on the houseboat tour, I'm looking forward to meeting you tomorrow or the day after tomorrow! ! \(^o^)/
Until next time ☆( '▽')/
***Wakana***
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2024/09/17 Instagram post by Wakana
I went to Odaiba 🚢🗽🌉 #LifeWithBangs (Source)
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charmac · 5 months ago
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What was was experience like when you met Charlie? I’ve only met Glenn but I’m seeing Charlie this week and I’m nervous lol
Prepare yourself... because he is the most genuine celebrity I have ever met in my life, lmfao.
I honestly, confidently can say that there is no greater person to meet than Charlie Day. He really is exactly what you'd expect and then some.
I've met him a few times at this point so in terms of the experiences I've had, I'll direct you to this post from October and the day following that. I feel like I didn't explain too much of the context here, but basically he organically noticed me in the audience and stopped the on stage convo to ask me if I got the tattoo yesterday, which was really cool, and then after the panel he came up to me at the stage to sign my S10 DVD and then asked if there was anything else I wanted which was just so insane and then we went to the pop up bar and got a ton of free shots and what not. You can see my immediate thoughts after all of that:
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The next week following was the NYC TASP live shows, and again he remembered me when he saw me at stage doors and came right up to say hi, which was awesome, and I talked to Mary Elizabeth separately too and she told me Charlie told her about the tattoo which is insane?? There were just a lot of small interactions those two nights between us that were really awesome, again just genuine shit.
March, again, so much shit happened that it would just be an essay to write out so I'll direct you to my posts about it from then, when I saw Charlie again after months and he immediately recognised me and remembered my name, then when he asked me for my input on the Mac and Dennis furniture situation (and agreed with me lol), and during that he took so much time with me like wayyy more than he should have lol, and then later that night at the bar was even more insane. I am not exaggerating when I say he spent a solid fifteen minutes just talking to us about Sunny. Like an insane amount of time where he was just this extremely genuine guy who was talking to us like we were friends just chatting about the show. I have never had that intimate of a conversation with anyone as famous as Charlie Day, and it was a real back and forth. Another ask regarding interactions with Charlie that night.
In summary, after meeting him I would lie my life down for that man anytime anywhere. It might be cringe to say but the days/nights I got to interact with Charlie are some of the greatest days of my life. Not just because of him, because there were a million other factors at play there, but he contributed largely to how fucking amazing my experiences at Sunny-related events have been.
AND I get being nervous, I am nervous every single time I meet any of them, but don't fret too much! I'm sure it will be a great night and I hope you have a ton of fun! He is the most chill, coolest, kindest guy I have ever met, and I hear that from sooo many other people too. Take photos and videos for us!
(And remember he will be in the writers room only a few days after you meet him... so plant some seeds... hah jk..)
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hyperfixationhobo · 11 months ago
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Ok another scenario based on my last Hobie and Mayday post.
Ever since the whole “Parker” incident, the group has been jokingly calling Peter Hobie’s father.
“You should listen to your pops, Hobie.”
“You heard your dad, got to be more careful next time.”
“Are you sure your dad will be okay with this?”
They make these jokes so much that it’s just natural at this point. Its so natural that Hobie himself even calls Peter dad. (They both act like it’s no big deal but they’re both low key crying inside).
It’s all well until Hobie gets annoyed with Peter fussing over him that’s he screams. “You’re not my bloody dad so get off it yeah?!”
It’s silent for a while as they both process just what was said before Peter apologizes and says that Hobie’s right and then leaves. They’re both hurt by what was just said cause they both do see each other as father and son.
Cut to a few months later, with a bit of akward tension between Hobie and Peter, it’s Hobie’s birthday and Mj insists to hold the party at her house.
(Mj is the only true person that Hobie is respectfully scared of.)
The party is quite small but Hobie wouldn’t have it any other way. After the party, when everyone leaves, Mj and Peter ask Hobie to stay for a bit cause they had one more gift for him.
It’s adoption papers.
They explain that they gave it some thought with a ton of talks and that they wanted Hobie to be their son, legally. They reassure him that he absolutely doesn’t have to say yes, and that they don’t expect him to move in with them. They just didn’t want to give this to him in front of everyone and make him feel pressured into saying yes.
Meanwhile Hobie is just staring at the papers with teary eyes and only one thought bounces in his mind.
“You guys want me?”
This leads to tears and reassurance that yes they do want Hobie as their son and that no it’s not some horrible prank. They know that Hobie is a good kid and that he’s an amazing person who would fight for what’s right and will protect his friends and family with everything in him. That they know that he’ll make an amazing big brother for Mayday.
Hobie is full blown crying happy tears as he signs the papers and gets a group hug from his now mom and dad. He spends the night at his new second home in a room that his mom and dad had prepared for him.
(It was stereotypically “punk” but hey he can’t and wouldn’t complain when they obviously put their hearts into it.)
The next few days are full of telling his friends and boyfriend (Pav of course) the news to which he gets ton of congratulations.
Now he gets to be a part of family photo shoots, family vacations, father-son and mother-son days, eat Mj’s amazing cooking, and has a baby sister who’ll he’ll burn down heaven and hell for.
“Yeah, I got the best family.”
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hairstevington · 2 years ago
Text
Freaky Friday (Steddie's Version)
Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington
Summary: Dustin is fed up when his two friends, Eddie and Steve, hate each other for stupid reasons. The universe decides to bring them together by having them switch bodies until they get over themselves. Link to Ao3
Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5
Word Count: 7K, more chapters to come
Warnings: Enemies to lovers, slow(ish??) burn, canon universe (more or less) set before season 4, Dustin gets bullied at the beginning which is a bit sad but it's brief, body swap, angst, revenge, POV switching, Steddie both love Dustin so much, honestly just tons of fun lmao
A/N: A while back I made this post where I had a Steddie AU idea I never really got out of my head and then I started writing it and now I can't stop lmao. FYI this starts in third person Dustin POV but switches to Steve/Eddie midway! Please enjoy, I'll have it up on Ao3 soon probably like I do with everything else :)
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Dustin had enough of this shit. 
He had been bummed that Steve graduated from Hawkins high the year before Dustin entered the ninth grade. Having Steve there would have been a buffer for Dustin, who - although he rarely admitted it - actually didn’t like being unpopular. As much as he hated being the victim of bullying, he hated the thought of changing himself even more - which is why he refused to. 
He showed up to his first day of high school in his Weird Al shirt, because he would be damned to give an inaccurate impression of himself. He knew that after graduation, he’d turn out better than all the other assholes at the school anyway. He was smarter than them, he was better than them. He could get through four years of their bullshit until he proved that. 
Although…Having Steve around would have made it a lot easier. 
But, whatever. Steve had graduated. Dustin still called him all the time, and they hung out every so often, but Dustin knew that nineteen year olds didn’t have a lot in common with fourteen year olds, at least not enough to hang out regularly. They were like brothers, more than anything, and they were in a weird spot. 
Thankfully, through some grace of God, Dustin met Eddie. 
It was bound to happen, considering Dustin had wanted to join the Hellfire Club anyway. He’s already informed the rest of the group - Mike and Lucas - so that the three of them could still play DnD together. Lucas had seemed hesitant, but that was to be expected. Things were changing. 
He missed Will. Will would have loved Hellfire, had he not been in California. 
Dustin met Eddie Munson at lunch - his first lunch in high school. The food Hawkins High served was mildly disturbing and likely lacked any nutritional value, so Dustin was grateful that his mother had kept up the tradition of packing him a lunch special for his first day. She even included chocolate pudding, since it was his favorite. 
Mike and Lucas weren’t going to be at lunch on the first day, because Lucas wanted to check out the basketball team, and Mike wanted to see if he could call El - she wasn’t starting school until the following week. This meant that Dustin was alone in the cafeteria, and he wasn’t entirely prepared to face the brutal sting of rejection, so he didn’t want to just pick a random table and try to make friends. He already had friends, they just weren’t there. 
He stopped in his tracks and scanned the room, pondering his next move. There was no way he’d sit with the jocks or the cheerleaders, and the rest of the tables were unrecognizable in terms of what cliques they represented. This was nothing like he’d seen in movies - he didn’t even really know who the popular ones were versus the unpopular ones. 
He must have been standing there for a bit too long, because suddenly he was nudged hard in the shoulder. 
“Move it, loser,” a guy twice his size said. “You’re in everybody’s way.”
“S-sorry,” Dustin apologized. He took a few steps backward, deciding to just start walking and see what happens, but then he bumped into someone else. 
“Jesus, kid,” another voice said. “You’re like a pinball.” 
Dustin looked up to see a tall, rather intimidating man with long, curly brown hair. He was dressed in denim and leather, the Hellfire logo splayed across his chest. He looked way too old to be a high school student, but way too scary to be a faculty member. 
Not scary in a dangerous way - Dustin had experienced enough real danger that most normal things didn’t faze him - but scary in a way where Dustin felt the person standing in front of him had some kind of power in the school. A reputation, at least, whether it be good or bad. 
“Welcome back, Freak,” another random student remarked at him as they walked past. Dustin watched as the enigmatic metalhead flipped the student off with zero hesitation.
Ah, so it was for sure a bad reputation. Noted. 
“So, I’m the school freak,” he said, theatrically bowing as he introduced myself. “Eddie. Eddie Munson. And you are…”
“Dustin Henderson,” he answered without a second thought.
“I was going to say -” Eddie continued, “- you are….wearing a Weird Al shirt. Bold move for your first day, Dustin Henderson.”
“How did you know it was my first day?” Dustin asked, grateful to be having some sort of civil conversation, even if he had no idea where it was going. 
“Just a hunch,” Eddie replied with a shrug. Dustin looked back at Eddie’s shirt. 
“You're in Hellfire?” he asked. Eddie grinned, then pointed at a table where a bunch of people were wearing the same shirts. 
“Hellfire is my pride and joy. We play a game called Dungeons and Dragons, have you heard of it?” Before Dustin could confirm, Eddie kept talking. “Of course you’ve heard of it, look at you. You’re one of us, I know it.” Eddie gestured for Dustin to follow him to the Hellfire table, which he gladly did. 
“Eddie, who’s this?” a member seated at the table asked when they approached. 
“This, Gareth, is Dustin, and he’s sitting with us today.” Eddie pointed at an available seat, then looped around to his own. Dustin noticed a textbook in front of Gareth and chimed in. 
“You’re taking chemistry?” he asked. Gareth nodded. “That’s cool. I love chemistry. I went to this awesome summer camp called Camp Know Where -”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Eddie interrupted. “Did you just say you love chemistry? What kind of kid actually enjoys that shit? Are you a masochist? I failed that class twice.” Eddie’s rambling was entertaining, to say the least. 
“Isn’t Camp Know Where that science program where all the geniuses go?” another person at the table asked.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie exclaimed dramatically. “Okay, Dustin Henderson. I will protect you, since you so desperately need the protection. In return, you will join Hellfire, and occasionally help me with homework because you’re obviously smarter than half the people in this school. Deal?”
“Only half?” Dustin joked - although, it wasn’t really a joke. Dustin knew for a fact he was smarter than at least 75% of the school. “Fine, I accept these terms. Can my friends Mike and Lucas join too?” Eddie rolled his eyes and sighed.
“You’re killing me,” he said. “Yeah, yeah. Bring all the Freshies in, I guess. No one will come near you if you stick with us, but you’ll avoid being stuffed in lockers at least.” That seemed like a good enough deal to Dustin, for now. “Alright, kid. Welcome to Hellfire.”
-
Dustin recounted this entire interaction with Steve the moment he’d gotten home from school. 
“Eugh, Hellfire?” Steve said over the phone, acting disgusted. “That club’s for nerds.”
“Earth to Steve, I am a nerd,” Dustin deadpanned. “And Eddie said -”
“Oh god, not Munson,” Steve groaned. “That guy’s trouble, I swear. Seriously, you should get out of this while you can.”
“And go where?” Dustin retorted, starting to get agitated. “It’s not like I can float through school like you did by joining all the sports teams. I’m gonna be made fun of either way, and you know it.” Steve was silent on the line for a bit, knowing that Dustin was right. 
“I wish I could be there to watch over you, ya know,” he said at last. 
“Yeah, I wish you could too, but I have Eddie at least.”
Eddie. Ugh. Steve hated that guy. He was always doing something weird and dramatic to try to get a reaction from people. 
“Yeah, okay. But I’ll kick his ass if he tries anything, alright?” Dustin laughed. 
“Sure you will, Buddy.” 
-
Mike and Lucas were far more terrified of Eddie than Dustin was. He knew why - Eddie had shown a bit of kindness that first day, but he wasn’t usually like that. Eddie was the kind of guy who loved attention, and he knew the best way for him to get it was through negative attention. He consistently made an ass of himself. 
Dustin enjoyed it. Mike and Lucas didn’t not enjoy it, but they still felt like he was unhinged. Maybe he was. Dustin didn’t think about it that much. 
Him and Eddie had bonded pretty quickly, especially since Dustin would hang around after lunch or club meetings to talk about homework. Eddie had a lot of questions, and he was kind of a horrible student. This was especially evident when Dustin discovered he was a third year senior, which explained why the guy looked so goddamn old. 
“Damn,” Dustin said once he found out. “You’re even older than Steve. Wait - you might know Steve actually. He graduated last year. Steve Harrington?”
Eddie Munson did an actual spit take with his soda. Dustin had only ever seen that in movies.
“No shit,” Eddie responded. “You know that asshole?”
“He’s not an asshole,” Dustin replied immediately, quick to defend his friend. “He’s awesome.”
Dustin opened his mouth to continue, but it was hard to explain why Steve was awesome when he had to leave Upside Down stuff out of it. He totally saved us from a bunch of Demodogs, and one time he got tortured for information underground by evil Russians. Dustin considered mentioning the time Steve protected the kids from Billy - that was unrelated to the secret world the group had been privy to - but, considering Hargrove’s death, it felt in bad taste to bring up now.
“So you’re trying to tell me that you’re friends with the guy?” Eddie asked suspiciously. “Why? I mean, why would he be friends with a kid so much younger than him?”
“Why are you?” Dustin retorted. Eddie chuckled. 
“Touche. But I know why I’m friends with a bunch of kids, why is he?”
“It’s complicated,” Dustin replied with a shrug. “But Steve’s pulled through for me a lot. He’s cool. You should give him a chance.”
“Give him a chance? I don’t ever see him. Are you trying to have us all hang out for a slumber party or something?” Dustin shook his head and was about to respond, but Eddie was on a roll (as usual). “Listen, Henderson. You’re cool and all, and I’m glad you joined our little clan here. But you wouldn’t want to hang out with me outside of this hellhole we call school, and I certainly wouldn’t want to hang out with Steve goddamn Harrington.”
There was a definitive finality to his statement that let Dustin know there was no point in arguing. But it did leave him wondering what exactly had happened to cause them to dislike each other so much.
-
Dustin blew through his first few weeks of school like this. He’d visit Steve and mention Eddie, and Steve would complain about how Eddie was a bad influence and would probably get arrested before graduation, if he ever did graduate. Any time Dustin brought up Steve in Hellfire, Eddie would groan and complain about the forced conformity and bullshit societal infrastructure at the high school that separated the good from the bad and blah blah blah. Dustin probably had that speech damn near memorized. Eddie seemed to hate the jocks, and for decent enough reason - the jocks hated him. And Dustin knew that Steve was kind of a dick in high school, but he’d changed now. 
So, yeah. He’d had enough. He just thought that if maybe he could get the two of them in the same room, they’d start to understand why Dustin liked each of them so much. They were both good guys who were protective of him, and he wanted them to get along, dammit!
Steve always went to the basketball games to support Lucas and the rest of the team, which was nice. On nights where the games coincided with Hellfire, Steve would drive Dustin home after. 
On one of these nights, Dustin hatched a bit of a plan. Usually, Hellfire got out before the game was over, so Dustin would meet Steve outside of the gym. This time, Dustin intentionally stayed late to help Eddie clean up and talk his ear off about his upcoming biology report. Eddie seemed to be in decent enough spirits, fresh off another successful campaign, and Steve was in a good mood because he now had a job again with Robin. It gave him money to take women out on dates, which he did often. 
As Dustin chatted with Eddie, there was a pounding on the door. 
“Hey, Dipshit!” Steve called from the other side. “Are you in there? Did Munson kill you or something?” Dustin grimaced as he gaged Eddie’s reaction to the comment, but thankfully Eddie seemed amused more than anything. 
“Sure did,” Eddie shouted back with a grin. “Bite me, Harrington.” Dustin rolled his eyes. 
“I’m fine, Steve!” he yelled. “Come in!” 
“You’re inviting him into my sacred space?” Eddie asked with feigned offense. 
“Your sacred space?” Dustin mocked. “You mean the drama club room? Based on the shit I’ve heard, it’s the least sacred spot on school property.” Eddie was laughing as Steve opened the door and came in. 
“You guys making fun of me?” he asked, his chest puffed out in his silly Steve way. Dustin didn’t find Steve or Eddie that intimidating, because he saw right through their tough guy act. They were both goofballs. 
“Always,” Eddie replied, returning to his cleaning tasks. “So, you’re Dustin’s ride home huh? How’d you guys become friends in the first place?” Steve hesitated, facing the same issue Dustin had when he’d been asked the same thing. Thankfully, he’d had more time to prepare since then. 
“Steve used to date Mike’s sister,” Dustin stated plainly. Steve opened his mouth to object to the sharing of that information, but then Dustin added - “And then I annoyed him into being my friend.” 
“That’s not really -” Steve grimaced, then realized that was the best version of the story either of them could provide. “Yeah, okay. The kid really worms his way into your heart.”
“I know, right?” Eddie replied absentmindedly. Dustin was thrilled to see them agree on something. It was a moment where he hoped they’d realize they could actually get along. “I remember when you dated Nancy Wheeler. I’m surprised it didn’t work out, since you were so perfect for each other.”
Okay, so maybe they wouldn’t get along. The way Eddie had said the word perfect almost seemed like an insult. To Eddie, it was. Dustin noticed Steve tensing and felt the need to mediate. 
“Anyway,” he said, searching for something, anything, to redirect the conversation. He wasn’t sure when he was gonna get them in the same room again, so he couldn’t just leave. “How was the game, Steve?” Eddie rolled his eyes when Steve lit up again. 
“We lost,” he answered. Dustin noticed Eddie hiding a smirk under one of his ringed hands. “It’s a shame they keep Lucas on the bench, although he’s a Freshman so it makes sense I guess. I mean, that’s how it always has been.” 
“You mean to tell me,” Eddie interjected. Oh boy. “- that a high school sports team values a players popularity over their talent?” He scoffed. “Probably why you got so much airtime, right Harrington?”
Oh Jesus Christ this is bad. This is going badly. Steve was clearly offended by that comment, and rightfully so. 
“Eddie, can you just - be nice?” Dustin pleaded. 
“Since when am I nice?” Eddie shot back, picking the last of his papers up and stuffing them in his bag. 
“You’re nice to me,” Dustin pointed out. 
“Yeah, because I like you,” Eddie replied, “-and as I’ve said to you multiple times, I don’t like him.” Eddie gestured vaguely in Steve’s direction. 
“What did I ever even do to you, Munson?” Steve questioned, finally deciding to stand up for himself. “Seriously man, you’re being a dick.” 
“I know what you think of me,” Eddie answered plainly. “I’m just calling it like I see it.” 
“Okay, well this has been sufficiently awkward and horrible,” Dustin sighed, finally giving up. “I was wrong, you two are hopeless. Eddie, Steve’s right. You’re being a dick.” That accusation actually did seem to have an effect on Eddie, even though he tried not to let it show. “Steve, let’s go home.”
On the walk to the car, Steve had already seemed to brush the whole interaction off. 
“I told you that guy’s no good,” he said. “Thanks for defending me, by the way.” 
“I promise he’s not usually like that,” Dustin assured him. But, come to think of it, that kind of was how Eddie usually spoke to people, especially the popular kids. But Dustin was in Hellfire, he was one of them, as Eddie said, and he treated the freaks far differently and with more respect. 
His two cool older guy friends were bound to hate each other, he realized. No getting around it, no point in trying to change it.
_______________________________________
Eddie had gone to Family Video countless times over the years, because what else were people supposed to do in Hawkins, Indiana? It was cheaper and involved less people than going to the movies, and it was something to entertain him while he was home. 
Imagine his surprise when he walked into the store one day and saw none other than Steve Harrington behind the counter. 
The green vest Steve was forced to wear was a lot more masculine than the get-up he’d worn at Scoops Ahoy over the Summer. Eddie had the pleasure of seeing him a few times at the mall in his little short shorts and stupid hat, and it was an image he sorely missed. Seeing King Steve pathetically dressed and striking out with women post-graduation? Delicious. 
He’d only let himself visit once, although he may have done it again had the mall not burned down. But alas, Steve’s sailor outfit days were short-lived, and now he was back to being the same old boring jock he always had been - just now, he didn’t even play sports. 
Eddie may have been in his third go-around of senior year, but at least he wasn’t pretending he was someone he wasn’t. He embraced his freak nature, and had grown comfortable in it. Life hadn’t been kind enough to him to give him the option of the niceties people like Steve took advantage of. 
“Hey, man,” Steve greeted him as he entered the door. He was so nonchalant about it, like he didn’t even care about Eddie’s presence. Eddie didn’t care too much about Steve being there, except he did. There was a fire in Eddie's dislike for Steve that seemed one sided. Steve being almost indifferent made Eddie hate him even more. “Let me know if I can help you find anything.” Eddie ignored Steve’s surprisingly sincere customer service and went directly to the row of movies he always went to. He scanned the selection - it looked about the same as it had the last ten times he’d reviewed it - then picked one of his favorites and brought it to the counter. 
Steve didn’t say anything more than that as he went through the rental process. It was all over in less than two minutes, and Eddie was mildly disappointed in the lack of drama. If Steve wasn’t an asshole, then what? Was Eddie the asshole all along?
Yeah. Yeah, he absolutely was.
He was on his way out when he stopped, then spun on his heels to face Steve at the counter again. 
“Listen, man,” he began. Steve looked up from the pile of VHS tapes he was sorting, seemingly unbothered by any of this. “I’m sorry about, uh - about the other night.”
“Thanks,” Steve responded with a nod. Eddie could never really just leave things alone, though. 
“Dustin was right,” he continued. 
“The little shit usually is.” Steve had returned his gaze to the movies in front of him. 
“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, a bit too forcefully in an attempt to ease the tension. “I’ll see you around, then.”
“See ya,” Steve responded. Eddie pouted, not satisfied with how that went, and he wasn’t sure why. But whatever. He was gonna go home, get high, and watch the movie. A good night was ahead. 
He paused at the door when the phone rang, pretending to get distracted by a cardboard cutout near the window. 
“Family Video,” Steve said on the phone. “Woah, shit. Dustin, calm down. Where are you?” This got Eddie’s attention, and he raced back to the counter. “Okay, I’ll figure something out.” 
“What’s up with Henderson?” Eddie asked, his concern growing. 
“I guess some guys are picking on him. He called from the side of the road on a pay phone near the power plant.”
“Jesus, what did they do to him? Is he okay?”
“He’s great, that’s why he called,” Steve shot back sarcastically. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I don’t know if I can just leave my shift since I just started this job like three days ago. Shit.”
“I’ll go,” Eddie offered. “The plant is right by my place anyway. Don’t sweat it.” Steve eyed Eddie suspiciously, then nodded.
“Okay, I guess. Just - can you call here once you know he’s safe?”
“Sure thing, Harrington.” It was a brief, genuine moment between the two of them, both desperate to protect the tiny child they each adored so much. 
And with that, Eddie bolted out of Family Video, to his van, and towards the plant. 
Dustin had apparently been chased down and recaptured after he called Steve, because Eddie found him tied to a pole a bit further down the street. 
“Eddie!” he yelled once they locked eyes. “Get me out of this shit!” 
Dustin was doing his damndest to break free from the binds, but it was no use. Eddie took his pocket knife out from where he always kept them tucked in his jeans and got to work, successfully freeing the little twerp once he stopped squirming. 
“Who did this? Where are they?” Eddie felt the heat rising in his chest, up his neck, and to his cheeks. “How’d they even get a hold of you? Why are you all the way over here? What -”
“Jesus, Eddie,” Dustin interrupted him. “It doesn’t matter. I just wanna go home.”
Eddie looked Dustin up and down and noticed a bruise forming on his jaw. 
“Come on, my trailer is right there,” Eddie said, pointing in the vague direction of Forest Hills. “Let’s get you cleaned up first.” 
_______________________________________
Steve tried to wait idly by while he entrusted a guy like Eddie to go rescue Dustin. He tried to do the responsible thing for once and stay at his stupid job so he could keep said job. He tried not to think about how Eddie could have been behind this whole thing, for all he knew. Some sick twisted mind game. He tried not to think about any of that. 
He lasted two minutes before he called Robin and begged her to fill in. She accepted after a few minutes of persuasion - after all, Steve didn’t ask her for things very often, and he always drove her around, so she kinda owed him. It took her about fifteen agonizing minutes to get there, and just as she walked in the door, the phone rang. 
“Family video,” he greeted, hoping a familiar voice would be on the other end. 
“Steve, it’s me,” Dustin’s voice called through the phone. “I’m at Eddie’s. I’m okay.”
“Where does he live?” Steve asked, still hellbent on leaving. 
“At the trailer park. You don’t have to -”
Steve dropped the phone and ran out the door, not even bothering to hang it back up on the receiver. He headed to Forest Hills, and was thankfully able to locate Eddie’s trailer pretty quickly due to the beat-up red van parked in front of it. He stumbled out of his own car as soon as it stopped, nearly forgetting to take his keys from the ignition. Maybe it was silly for him to worry about Dustin so much, but after what they’d been through together, Steve had learned to treat everything as life or death. 
The door pushed open from the stress of his knock alone, so he let himself in. 
Eddie’s place was small, messy, and smelled of smoke. But, it was clear the place was a home. Steve’s house was a hundred times bigger and somehow contained less. 
“Dustin?” Steve called as he walked deeper into the living room. “Eddie?”
“Bathroom!” Steve followed the voice down the hall to where Eddie was tending to a bruise forming on Dustin’s jaw. 
“Who did this? Where are they?” Eddie chuckled, and Steve almost lashed out because of it, but then Eddie explained. 
“That’s exactly what I said when I found him, Harrington.” Steve took note of the care that Eddie was actually putting into his first aid. It was surprisingly gentle. “Good luck getting him to rat the bastards out.”
“I told you, it doesn’t matter,” Dustin groaned. 
“Whoever it was, we can take ‘em,” Steve insisted. He noticed Eddie smirk at the inclusion of them both taking the bullies down.
“You idiots!” Dustin snapped, standing up from where he was sitting on the lip of the bathtub. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want you to ‘take ‘em.’ It was embarrassing enough to have them pick on me, I don’t need you guys to go down there and humiliate me even more.”
“We’re just trying to protect you, man,” Eddie replied. 
“I don’t need protection!” Dustin shouted, causing Eddie and Steve to back up. “My bike isn’t far. I’m going home. Eddie, thanks for cutting me down. Steve, thanks for leaving work when I asked you to. You’re both really good friends, and I appreciate it. I just want to go home.” 
It broke Steve’s heart to know that Dustin was getting picked on. He just wanted to help, but he understood the whole pride thing. Steve had fought many uphill battles in the past in the name of saving face. Ironically, his face was usually what took the brunt of the consequences. 
“You sure you’re gonna be -” Eddie began to ask the question before Steve was able to, but stopped himself when Dustin shot a glare at them both. “Right, okay. Can you just call when you get home okay?”
“Me too,” Steve added. 
“Okay, mom and dad,” Dustin replied, rolling his eyes. “Or, Steve could stay here ten minutes and then I’d only have to make one call. Unless you guys will murder each other by then.”
“Jury’s out,” Eddie muttered. Steve felt like it was a joke, but also Eddie gave off psycho killer vibes, so anything was possible. “Sure, Harrington. You can stay here until he gets home.”
Steve wanted to think of a witty comeback, but his head was empty. He could stay, and then he figured he should get back to work. 
“Fine,” he agreed. “But the moment you walk through your door, got it?”
“Yes, dad,” Dustin deadpanned. 
“I thought I was dad,” Eddie cut in. 
“You think I’m mom?” 
“Ten minutes, no murders,” Dustin reminded them before heading out the door. There was a beat of silence before Steve and Eddie turned to each other once again. 
“So, we’re definitely gonna go to that plant and kick some ass, right?” Eddie asked, his tone completely devoid of its usual teasing. Steve smirked. 
“Finally, we’re on the same page,” he replied. 
Ten minutes later, Dustin called as promised. Seconds after the call disconnected, Steve and Eddie made a beeline for the front door. 
-
It was getting dark, even though it was a bit too early for the sun to set. Clouds were forming in the sky, a bleak omen of the impending storm that neither Eddie nor Steve had prepared for. 
They walked to the plant in silence, because what was there to be said? They were going to tolerate each other to defeat the common enemy. 
A group of misfits were in fact still camped out under one of the towers. They were all smoking and laughing and spouting nonsensical vitriol about the student body - kids like Dustin, as well as the women of the school. If Eddie and Steve weren’t heated already, the few comments they’d overheard sent them over the edge. 
“Hey!” Steve shouted, cutting one of the guys off. Five pairs of eyes flickered over to the pair, who’d realized once they were in the situation that they were vastly outnumbered. 
“Steve Harrington?” One of the boys questioned. “What are you doing over here?”
“And with Munson?” Another added. “I never thought I’d see the two of you together.”
“Neither did I,” Steve and Eddie said in unison. They glanced at each other, awkwardly acknowledging that they’d said the same thing at the same time, then hastily moved on. 
“Is this about the boy?” The leader of the group was probably a Junior, and shorter than both Eddie and Steve, but he had enough audacity to make up for it. 
“Found him tied to a pole,” Eddie reminded them through gritted teeth. This was news to Steve, who’s blood boiled at the thought. A few years prior, Tommy and Carol used to do shit like that. Maybe not to that extent, but it was all the same. 
“Why do you care so much about that dumbass anyway?” The leader (was his name Chad?) asked. 
“He’s totally harmless,” Steve said.
“Us on the other hand…” Eddie interjected. 
“Oh yeah,” Steve agreed. “I’ve been known to throw a punch, and Eddie over here  is actually insane, I’m pretty sure.”
“Aw, thanks man,” Eddie grinned devilishly, smacking Steve on the back. “Our point being, you stay away from Henderson and we won’t break anything, okay?”
Thunder cracked in the distance, followed by a flash of lightning. 
“Yeah, okay,” Chad mocked. “We’re not scared of you.” Eddie and Steve looked at each other, shrugged, then both trudged forward. Eddie took Chad while Steve went for the one who appeared to be second in command. They each pushed them against the metal pillars, gripping them by the collar of their shirts, and drawing their other hand back into a fist. 
“How about now?” Eddie asked with darkness in his eyes. 
“Let’s get out of here,” one of the others in the group said, and within moments the other three bullies scampered away into the night. 
“Some loyal friends you got there,” Eddie teased. Steve was getting agitated at how many stupid quips Eddie had. Was he supposed to be all quippy too? Was that the secret to winning one of these goddamn things?
Thunder rumbled again, this time much louder than before. Rain started to fall hard against their skin, distracting them enough for the two pathetic bullies to slip from their gasps and follow their friends out of sight. 
“Shit,” Steve groaned, realizing that they’d just made a fool of themselves. “Not only did we not hurt them, but they’re definitely going to tell people about it, and then -”
“Is that seriously what you’re worried about right now?” Eddie interrupted, the rage in him still burning. “Your reputation? Claaassic Steve Harrington, always thinking about himself.”
“That’s not what I was saying, asshole,” Steve responded. “Dustin’s going to find out, and then -”
“So what if he does?” Eddie asked. Steve was sick and tired of being interrupted. “If they mess with him again, then -”
“Could you let me finish a goddamn sentence? Holy shit,” Steve exclaimed, thoroughly irritated. The rain was falling steadily now, the drops heavy as they hit him. His hair was already starting to feel weighed down to his scalp. Perfect. Just perfect. “Dustin told us not to do anything, and then we did, okay? So what do you think that little shrimp’s gonna do when he finds out, huh?”
“He’ll handle it, Harrington,” Eddie shot back. “He’s a big boy.”
“Oh, come on!” Steve groaned. “Don’t give me that bullshit when ten minutes ago you dropped everything to rescue him like he was some lost puppy.”
“Because he was tied to a pole!” Eddie responded. 
“That would have been helpful to know before we headed out here, by the way.” Steve put his hands on his hips and planted his feet in the mud. It was way too late to worry about his appearance, now. 
“Oh, Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie sighed, taking a step towards Steve. “You’re just as awful as I thought you were.”
“Oh, really?” Steve said, taking another step forward to meet Eddie. “Back atcha.”
“Fuck off.”
“Fuck off.”
There was another loud crack of thunder as both of them shoved the other at the same time, causing them both to stumble backwards until they each hit one of the metal pillars extending down from the plant. 
A flash of light. A quick, searing pain. Then, they each dropped to their knees and fell into the mud. 
-
It felt like a sudden hangover, and a bad one. Eddie opened his eyes and cringed at the feeling of mud under his fingernails and up his arms. 
For a moment, he’d forgotten how he ended up on the ground. It felt like he was somewhere different, and he wasn’t sure why. He sat up, extremely disoriented, and then focused on a similar crumpled heap across from him. It took a second for Eddie to make out Steve’s features in the dark, but then his head angled upwards, their eyes met, and everything got a whole lot more complicated. 
“Steve…” Eddie began, speaking slowly. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Why the hell do you look like me, man?”
The man across from him had the same features Eddie had come to know in his own reflection - the same style, same hair, same everything, but no - that didn’t make any sense. 
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” the man replied. The man, who answered to Steve, but couldn’t possibly be. No, Eddie was dreaming. He’d done some hallucinogenic and forgot and now he was tripping. That had to be the case. 
They both stood up, mirroring each other, and for a moment Eddie thought that maybe that’s all this was. Some trick of the light. Maybe, there was a mirror at the power plant for some reason, and he was just staring at himself. Sure, the other guy responded to him, but he couldn’t think about that.
He waved at himself, but the guy across from him didn’t wave back. There went the mirror theory. 
It was still raining, but it had lightened up quite a bit. The two men took a few tentative steps towards each other, their eyes adjusting. 
“So, this is…I mean, we are…” Eddie fumbled over words that didn’t make sense. 
“What kind of weird cult shit did you do to me?” Steve accused, his voice rising. “Did you drug me? Sacrifice me to the devil or something?”
“Dude, are you fucking serious right now?” Eddie groaned, throwing his head back. “I didn’t do shit.”
“Then what happened?” Steve snapped. “How did we - Like, you’re seeing this too, right?”
“Yeah, I’m seeing it.” Eddie finally took a moment to look down, noticing a vastly different wardrobe than the one he remembered putting on. 
Including a green vest. 
“Holy shit,” Steve said. It was weird hearing his voice with Steve’s words. 
The idea of saying it out loud - dude, we switched bodies - seemed too batshit insane to consider. So, naturally, Eddie did what he knew best. 
“No. Nope. Not happening.” he shook his head and took off towards his trailer. 
“Hey. Hey!” Eddie’s own voice echoed behind him, followed by footsteps that got louder and louder as Eddie desperately tried to get away. He didn’t even look back until he was safely in his trailer again, the feeling of home making him feel slightly more at ease. “Dude, we gotta figure this out.” Steve followed him in, of course. 
“Why? Why do we have to? Why can’t I just shower and go to sleep and hopefully wake up from this nightmare?”
“Because I don’t think we’re gonna wake up,” Steve said with a shrug. “And because if you shower right now you’re gonna see my dick, and so I think we should, like, talk first.” Eddie barked out a bitter laugh.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Harrington. Would you feel better if I bought you dinner first?” He continued to walk down the hall to his bathroom, where first aid supplies were still strewn about, and that’s when he caught himself in the mirror.
Sure enough, Steve Harrington stared back at him. He looked a little worse for wear with his hair wet and disheveled and streaks of mud on his face, but no amount of dirt could change the pretty boy Steve was and always would be. He nearly spat at the image. Eddie’s familiar figure joined him in the bathroom, where they stood shoulder to shoulder and stared at themselves for an absurd amount of time. It was the closest they’d ever been to each other for more than a few fleeting seconds, but they were too stunned to do anything about their proximity. 
“Okay, so…” Steve said, watching Eddie’s mouth move as he said it.
“I’m you,” Eddie responded, finishing the thought. 
“And I’m you,” Steve finished. Their eyes stayed focused on their reflections for a while longer. How long exactly, it was tough to say. 
“So, what the fuck do we do now, then?” Eddie asked, finally breaking his gaze to look at Steve - er, himself, he guessed. 
What did they do now? That was certainly the question. 
____________________________
Steve had gotten used to weird shit happening to him, but this was a whole new world of weird. 
“I guess…” Steve searched for a plan, but he had no semblance of one. His head was completely empty. Probably because I’m using Eddie’s head, he thought to himself. “I should call Robin and tell her I’m not coming back to work.”
“You mean I should call Robin, since I am you now apparently.” Steve scoffed.
“You’re not me, alright? You just look like me, for some reason,” he argued. “Maybe we should call Dustin.”
“Yeah, because he’s soooo happy with us right now,” Eddie responded. “What do we say when he asks us what happened? We did the thing he told us not to do, and now we’re facing the consequences.”
“Consequences?” Steve repeated. “No, no. On any other day, in any other town, we would have done what we did and nothing would have happened. This isn’t a consequence, this is just my goddamn luck.”
“You’re acting like this is just any regular day for you,” Eddie complained. “Do you body swap with your enemies often?” Steve shot him a glare. The actual answer of, no but I’ve had a bunch of other weird shit happen, was on the tip of his tongue. If only Eddie knew what was really going on in Hawkins. Steve thought Eddie probably had his head up his own ass too much to notice, anyway. “Fine. I’ll call Robin.”
“Don’t say anything I wouldn’t, okay?” Steve warned, suddenly terrified at the power Eddie had to do some damage if he wanted to. 
“Don’t worry, I know exactly what to say.” Eddie went to his phone and dialed the number to the video store. “Hi, Robin. It’s me, your coworker, Steeeeve Harrington.” 
Great start. Jesus. 
“Dude,” Steve whined, nudging Eddie’s shoulder. “I don’t sound like that.”
“Yeah, I’m still at Eddie’s,” he continued on the phone. “Dustin’s okay. Can you finish my shift?” Huh. After the playfully performative introduction, Eddie seemed to actually act normal on the phone. “Great, thanks a bunch.” Just when Steve thought they were in the clear, Eddie tagged on a final line. “See ya later, Sweetheart,” followed by a bunch of kissing noises. 
Steve wrestled the phone from ‘Steve’ and slammed it against the receiver. 
“What the hell was that?”
“That -” Eddie said with a grin, “- was fun.” Steve’s eyes narrowed as anger began coursing through his veins. Anger, mixed with fear. Fear of this guy he hated, who now had full control of his life. 
“If you mess with my life, Munson, I swear to god -”
“What?” Eddie cut him off, barely fazed. “What are you gonna do? Get me back? Harrington, I’ve got nothing to lose. I’m already the school freak, nobody gives a shit what I do.” 
He had a fair point. Steve scrambled to think of a way, any way, he could get under Eddie’s skin the way Eddie was under his. 
“You have Hellfire,” he blurted out. Steve knew from Dustin just how much Eddie loved that stupid club. Based on Eddie’s reaction, Steve had made the right call. “I could tank it,” he continued. “Give up your title as dungeon manager or whatever.”
“Dungeon Master,” Eddie corrected him through gritted teeth. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would,” Steve insisted. “If you mess with me, I’ll mess right back.”
They stared at each other, knowing that each of them were serious. 
“Fine,” Eddie agreed. “I will play nice.” He stuck his hand out in front of him for Steve to shake. Steve hesitantly did so, not sure if he believed a word out of Eddie’s mouth. 
He was right to be mistrusting. Eddie had the fingers of his other hand crossed behind his back.
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