#BUT ANYWAYS BRAIN WE ARE TRYING TO GRAB A PHONE AND WRITE A NOT REALLY DETAILED PLAYFIGHT

[buckyalpine]

Spiral

Bucky Barnes x teacher reader 

Warnings: AANGST Arguments, mean Bucky, break up, make up, fluffff 

listen, don’t eat me alive for this, I’ve been craving some angst (with a happy ending), the type that makes my chest itch so here we are. If this is too toxic for you and you only live for sunshine and rainbows and perfect communication, then this is not the fic for you. He gets mean because that’s what I wanted. So mean. I wanted to feel physical pain while reading. But then my hamster brain got exhausted to write more groveling. So don’t come at me about “she shouldn’t have taken him back, he should’ve begged and groveled more” He groveled. 

-

You sighed, rubbing sleep away from your eyes, trying to get them to focus on the time on the clock. 

2:57 AM

You stretched out some of the kinks from your neck after falling asleep on the couch, reaching for your phone and squinting at the bright screen, all your calls and texts left unanswered. He didn’t respond to one. You sat up hearing the lock click open, some of your anxiety melting away hearing the thud of his bag hit the floor. 

“Bucky?”

“Yeah” He toed off his boots and shrugged off his jacket, heading straight for the bedroom without even looking your way, his shoulders heavy from exhaustion. You followed him to your shared bedroom, taking his bag from him and unpacking it while he stripped his clothes off getting ready to take a shower. 

“What time did you guys get back?”

“Couple hours ago” He grunted, tossing his clothes into the hamper, heading to the bathroom and clicking the lock shut. You blinked, slightly taken aback by his coldness but it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen this side before. Bucky had improved a lot with his stress and how he handled missions but ones that involved casualties or hydra would pull him into deep waves of despair, holding him down till he nearly drowned. 

You swallowed the uneasiness that crept up your spine; now wasn’t the time to ask him why he hadn’t let you know he was back safe or why he had ignored all  your messages. He would have been busy with reports and right now he was drained. You went to grab his Henley and some boxer briefs, laying them out on the bed for him as soon as you heard the water shut off. He emerged out with his towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping from his short locks while you grabbed his clothes, handing it to him before he went to the closet. 

“Here, I already got them out of the closet”

He half mumbled in response, pulling his clothes on and falling into bed, snoring as soon as his head hit the pillow. You weren’t a fan of him sleeping with wet hair, grabbing a dry towel and gently patting his hair as best as you could without waking him. He mumbled something again, pulling the sheet higher on himself and tucking himself further away from you, unbothered with his still semi damp hair. You jolted at the sound of your phone buzzing, Sam’s caller ID lighting up the screen. 

“Hey Sam” 

“Big guy get home alright?” 

“He did, why?” 

“Hm” You could hear the hesitation in his voice, “He’s been pretty out of it these past few missions, probably because he’s exhausted. Tony’s told him to sit out a couple of them but he’s there anyway. Stubborn as hell”  

“He really is” You shook your head, frowning at his sleeping form. Usually you found his stubbornness endearing but not when it was taking a toll on his health. 

“We uh...” Sam paused again, contemplating on if he should tell you his next words, deciding facing Bucky’s wrath would be better than losing him all together. “I know he’ll kick my ass for telling you this but we nearly lost him today” 

Your mouth dried up, heart rapidly hammering against your ribcage. You couldn’t get any words out to acknowledge what he’d just said but you heard him loud and clear. 

“Oh”

“It’s a lot, I know. Maybe talk to him. He’s getting reckless, it’s going to get him killed. We’ve tried talking to him but you know how-”

“Yeah” You blurted out, your mind now racing along with your heart, your body feeling hot. You could feel your anxiety sky rocket at the thought of Bucky endangering himself, never coming home to you again. The way your bed would feel empty. The way your soul would leave along with him. You couldn’t speak anymore, humming and mumbling the rest of the conversation. “Thanks Sam” 

You slipped under the covers, sleep not taking over as easily. Your anxiety at an all time high. Bucky used to text you as soon as he got back. Not a single one of your calls would be left unanswered. Running to you the second the jet landed. He’d never leave your side, taking you into the shower with him and making love to you till the sun came up with endless cuddles afterwards. Even after some of his darkest missions, he’d search for you eventually, seeking your comfort and warmth. 

Now?

Nothing. 

You groaned hearing the alarm go off, forcing yourself out of bed and going through your routine, getting ready for work and packing your things for the day. Your movements were shaky, the conversation with Sam screaming in your head while you poured some coffee and got started on breakfast. You wanted to scream and cry so badly but you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be a productive conversation when Bucky was like this anyway. You ended up running on autopilot, thinking about the lessons you’d teach for the day, supplies you still had to order for the classroom, the nagging parent that wanted to arrange a meeting after school. Bucky trudged into the kitchen a few minutes after you, setting on a bowl of cereal, his eyes sullen from a lack of proper sleep. 

“Can I make something for you?” you tested the waters to gauge his mood though you could see from his face he was still mentally elsewhere. He shook his head, huffing in frustration when the utensil drawer jammed, squeezing his eyes shut to collect himself before trying to open it again. 

“Sweetheart, let me get that for you” You set down your things, realizing that his exhausted state made his patience wear thin. 

“It’s fine” He tried to push the frustration he felt down, his teeth gritted as spoke, yanking at the drawer once more. 

“It’s probably stuck, just pull it slowly-”

“I said I got it” 

“But-”

“I’m not one of your fucking students!” He stated louder than necessary, pulling the drawer out with more force than he intended, all the contents inside crashing and clanking to the floor. You yelped in surprise, ignored the shakiness you started to feel coursing through your body, stepping towards Bucky instead, your heart breaking over how lost and worn out he looked. 

“Baby I didn’t say that-

“Why the fuck do you treat me like a child then?! Taking out my clothes, drying my hair, making my breakfast, texting and calling 100 times when I’m away. Do I look like I’m incapable of taking care of myself?” He spat, taking a step back from you when you tried to reach out from him, his brows furrowed, blue eyes glaring at you. You couldn’t help but let your anger bubble over, how dare he yell at you when he was the one carelessly putting his life at risk at risk on a daily basis. 

“Honestly?!” Your composure started to crumble, your eyes boring into his sleep deprived face, “From where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like it”

Bucky let out a humorless laugh, scoffing while you continued to stare at him. He slammed the drawer shut, not bothering to pick up what had fallen as he started to walk away from the kitchen and back to the bedroom. 

“Fuck this, I don’t need this” He shook his head while you followed him, going straight to the closet to grab his duffle bag he took for overnight missions. 

“What exactly do you not need” You tried to take a deep breath in, not wanting to upset him more when he wasn’t in a good state of mind. 

“You”

Oh.

“I don’t need you or your coddling” He started to grab handfuls of his clothes, shoving them haphazardly in his bag. “It’s suffocating y/n” 

You watched him in silence, squeezing your nails into your palms, desperately trying to hold it together while he continued to pack the few belongings he had. 

“Having someone constantly nag you about your whereabouts, doubt if you can even take care of your basic needs. Its-it’s just exhausting” 

You swallowed away the tightness that constricted your throat, not wanting to aggravate him further even though your own emotions were now thrown for a loop. This wasn’t him, this wasn’t your Bucky. 

“James, all you had to do was just tell me you were safe, you used to answer your messages, I worry about y-

“Well don’t! Because I don’t worry about you. Alright? There. That’s why I don’t message”

You wordlessly stared at him, your mouth dry as if you’d swallowed cotton. Your chest felt like you had been hit by a truck, feeling pain on the inside as your heart strings snapped one by one each time he spoke. 

“I don’t message because I don’t care. When I come back I just-I just want to be left alone. That's why I spend so much time at the compound after. I don’t exactly feel like rushing home”

You wanted to bite your tongue, walk away but the words were falling from your mouth before you could stop yourself. 

“Clearly you don’t care! Is that why the fuck you take on so many missions when you’re clearly worn the fuck out? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job” Bucky growled while you willed yourself to not let him see you cry, your eyes betraying you as tears welled in your lash line. 

“It’s not doing your job if you’re dead Bucky!” Hot tears were now rolling down your cheeks, any resolve you previously had thrown out the door. 

“You don’t know anything”  Bucky shook his head, scoffing and pushing past you while you pathetically trailed behind him, unable to stop this train wreck of an argument.

“What?” 

He finally turned to face you, dropping his bag in the living room, his sullen eyes daring you to try and stop him from leaving. You were about to open your mouth to speak but he cut you off. 

“What the fuck do you know y/n, you get to go in every morning, coddle some children for 8 hours, then you come back home, fucking try and do the same shit with me after like you have nothing better to do, too stupid to realize I can take care of myself. Why would I need you? Huh? Tell me” He challenged, the rational side of his brain kicking and screaming at him to stop but he was too far gone, too deprived of everything to stop the venom he was spitting. “I don’t need you. I don’t fucking want you” 

“Th-that’s how you feel?” Bucky blinked at the sound of your voice cracking, though his ego and anger at the rest of the world not letting him back down. He shrugged, his stomach now churning over your stoic expression but your eyes giving away how much he was hurting you. “Fine” 

You didn’t move a muscle as he grabbed his bag and headed out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Every single fiber in your body wanted to crumble to the floor, wishing it would swallow you whole. You pushed back all the emotions that wanted to crash all over the floor, shakily packing your things up and rushing out the door, hoping your little ones would distract you enough to get through the day.

If anything they made it worse. 

Every one one of your students knew something was off, seeing right past the smile you had plastered onto your face, doing your best to appear normal. You fought off tears as your third graders quietly made you cards to make you feel better during their recess time, a few of them even leaving portions of their snack on your desk, hoping it’d make you smile. You avoided reading any of the sweet little notes, knowing you’d break down into sobs if you read them. 

As soon as you got home, all your pent up sadness turned into rage. Angry tears streamed down your face as soon as you locked the door shut, the soft scent of home, of your Bucky now made your stomach turn. You hated that the whole place suffocated you with him, pictures of you both, his records and books on the shelves, a Henley on the couch. The kitchen was no better, plums on the counter, his favorite coffee in the cupboard, a Captain America mug still in the sink. 

You desperately wanted to shower and crawl into bed but the shared bedroom was the worst of all. You couldn’t stand to be in the space where his clothes were, the sheet still lingering with his soft scent that used to make you feel safe and remind you of home. You didn’t even realize you had broken down into sobs on the floor, all the pent up emotions you had kept in you spilling out all at once. 

The last thing you wanted to do was coddle and suffocate Bucky, his words echoing in your head. 

I don’t message because I don’t care

What do you know, y/n?

I don’t need you.

I don’t fucking want you. 

Fine. 

-

Bucky wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he got home, blinking at the dark house, usually you’d leave at least one light on. He had made it clear he was leaving, he couldn't expect you to be waiting at the front door with open arms. He stood for a moment, wondering if you had perhaps gone to bed early but it was eerily quiet. He didn’t like the cold silence that greeted him, it didn’t take him long to realize you weren’t there.

Yet there was an inkling of hope that maybe. Just maybe you were somewhere around. 

“Y/n?” 

Nothing.

He made his way right to the bedroom, only to be met with more cold silence. Bucky’s mind swirled, regret, guilt and shame constricting his neck once again. As soon as he had walked out, he wanted nothing more than to run back into the house and take it all back, tell you he didn’t mean a word of what he said. He wanted to scoop you in his arms and beg for forgiveness and shower you with love for the way you cared about him so much. He let his feet carry him away instead, not being able to think straight, frustration and pain feeding the caged monster he unleased on you. 

The last person that deserved it. 

Where had you gone?

Did it matter? 

He paced around the room; none of your things were out of place but it was too late for you to have gone on a walk or to grab food. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, feeling nothing but disgust with himself, the image of your sweet fallen face burned in his mind. How could he push away the one person who cared enough to take care of him so tenderly. So gently. So lovingly. 

And to say he didn’t care? Or worry?

How could he let those words fall from his lips when you were the reason he stayed alive. It took everything in him to not smash the first thing that came into his hand, of all the reckless and careless things he had done in this life, this was the worst. This hurt more than anything Hydra had put him though. He almost wished they’d take him away again, wipe his memories, wipe away the sound of your voice cracking, wipe away the way you’d softly call for him. Wipe away the feel of your soft hands touching him and soothing him when he couldn't sleep-

Wipe everything away because he was selfish. 

Unable to exist with he guilt of knowing he’d hurt you so much. 

His hands were working faster than his brain could comprehend, calling the first person he could think of, desperate to know you were at least okay and alive before he purged the city to look for you. 

“Nat-”

“She’s here” Nat deadpanned, cutting the call immediately after. He knew by her tone of voice, there would be no point in trying to call back. He had no right to see you. No right to come and ask for you to come back. He had no right for anything yet he had already broken off into a sprint. He made it very clear he didn’t want you, very clear you meant nothing, very clear he was the most fucked up idiot in the world, completely undeserving of your love. 

But he was selfish. 

He loved you. 

Bucky didn’t waste a second, hopping onto his motorbike and speeding off to the compound, bounding to the elevators and immediately to Nat’s door. He barely raised his hand to knock, the red head reluctantly opening the door to a disheveled Bucky. 

“She doesn’t want to see you”

“Nat, please-

“Barnes. She doesn’t want to see you” She threw in with a shrug, her green eyes challenging him to argue back. 

“I want to see her” His voice was small, hopeful, only to be met with a scoff and eyeroll, the assassin stepping out of the room and gently shutting the door behind her. 

“So you can tell her you don’t want her?”  Nat crossed her arms while Bucky felt his insides crumble more, his own words taunting him. 

“She told you?”

“Not much because even now, she’s more worried about you instead of how you treated her” Nat glared at the super solider as he hung his head, knowing damn well he had already been spiraling for weeks, his explosion a result of pent up pain and stress left undealt with. “Y’know you could’ve lost it on one of us but not her, she’s always been there for you in ways no one else could” 

Bucky felt his throat tighten, unable to get any words out as he silently nodded and made his way to a different floor to sleep in a guest room. Of course he didn’t sleep, tears staining the pillow, struggling to keep his sobs down. He spent the rest of the night all the way till morning pacing up and down the hall instead, waiting for you to wake up, ignoring the glare Nat gave him when she saw him sitting on the floor outside of her room. As soon as the door clicked open again, Bucky scrambled to his feet, rushing to your side. 

“Y/n-

“Don’t” 

You couldn’t bare to look at him, turning on your heel with your bag slung over your shoulder. Bucky reached for your wrist, weakly grasping it, the undeserving inkling of hope he had slowly dissolving when he felt your muscles tense.

“I’m sor-

“I said don’t. I don’t want to hear it”  You shook your head, tugging your hand away and continuing down the hall while Bucky trailed behind you like a puppy. 

“Angel, angel please wait!” He caught up with you, moving to block your path, but you shoved his chest, pushing him aside, gritting you teeth together till you made it outside. You would not let him see you break twice. 

“No” 

“Angel, I-I need-”

“You made it very clear you don’t need much. I’m not something you need” You cut him off before he could finish, unable to shake off the way the words he cut you deep, tangled around you like barbed wire. Your words cut him right back, his chest filling with even more guilt and regret. 

“That’s not true baby” His voice trembled, looking at your tear stained cheeks and puffy face. He’d never forgive himself over the pain he’d caused you, itching to pull you in his arms but how could he when he made you cry in the first place. 

“Don’t call me that” You scoffed, feeling your throat tighten, your vision cloudy with fresh tears. You kept your eyes trained towards the elevator, hoping to escape before the damn broke. 

“But you are”

“No, I’m not” You shook your head, “You can get the rest of your things today, you won’t have to worry about not rushing home anymore” You didn’t give him a chance to respond, dashing towards the doors as soon as they opened and striding through the compound till you got to your car. The skin on your knuckles was pulled tight as you gripped the steering wheel, breathing slowly till you got home. Everything came crashing down again as soon as you were back in your room; it wouldn’t have hurt this much if you didn’t actually love him

But you did. 

-

Bucky looked defeated as the elevator doors closed, his heart breaking further when you didn’t spare him a second glance. He didn’t bother wiping away the tears that were now streaming down his face as he made his way back to the guest room, ignoring Steve’s concerned glance and slamming the door shut. As expected, there was a knock at the door moments later, blond hair and blue eyes peering inside, unbothered by the death glare Bucky was shooting him. 

“You did something” He cocked an eyebrow, looking at his bestfriends guilt ridden face, staring at his feet like an admonished child. Bucky chewed at his lip, figuring there was no point in lying at this point, if anything he deserved the scolding he’d inevitably get. 

“I messed up”

“That would appear so” Steve nodded, urging him to continue. 

“I said a lot of things” 

“You should apologize”

“I can’t apologize for the things I said” Bucky shook his head, his voice trembling again, “I-I can’t just say sorry. It’s been weeks. Weeks of giving her shit. This just- it was too much. Y-you should have seen her face Steve” 

Steve remained silent, letting him continue.

“Fuck- I-, y’know she goes as far as drying my hair if I try to sleep while its still damp? Even when it’s late? and she has work the next morning” 

“And the problem is? She always takes care of you, I’ve seen it myself”

Bucky scoffed at himself, shaking his head while fidgeting with his hands. 

What was his problem.

He had a girl that actually gave a fuck about him, wanting to know if he was safe and loving him enough to take care of him even when he was broken. 

“I got mad at her for it” His voice was a whisper, dripping in shame, “She’d waited for me to get home, took care of me and I yelled at her”

“Explain” Steve didn’t like where the conversation was going but he wasn’t about to let Bucky off the hook without finding out exactly what happened. “All of it” 

“I-I was tired. I got frustrated when a drawer got stuck and lashed out on her and told her I didn’t want her. Didn’t need her. Had no interest in seeing her. It had already been a long time of me just not seeing or talking to her properly in general”

“Bucky” 

“I know” He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look at Steve’s face. “and a lot of other shit. And I can’t take it back” 

“No, you can’t” Steve agreed, much to Bucky’s discontent but again, his best friend wouldn’t lie and he had brought this all on himself. “You actually care about her?” 

“I fucking love her” Bucky’s eyes shot up, full confidence in his voice, he, without a single doubt in his soul, loved you completely. 

“Then give her time. You hurt her, Buck”

Bucky nodded, hating that he had no choice now but to wait. He quietly collected his things while you were at work, not wanting to torment you further. 

-

You hadn’t spoken to Bucky for weeks. Every time your missed him, thought about him, picked up your phone to call and check on him, you remembered what he told you. 

He didn’t want you. 

You downed another drink, staying tucked away at a booth while Natasha and Wanda went off dancing, the both of them dragging out out of the house, insisting you had to get out. Even after the break up, they remained close to you. No amount of make up could cover the puffiness and redness of your eyes or mask the way your voice was stuffy from nights of crying to sleep but there you were. On your third glass. 

“Someone looks happy to be here” 

Your eyes searched the crowd for the familiar voice, eventually landing on Sam, his eyebrows playfully wiggling as he slid into your booth.  You relaxed when you saw he hadn’t come with Bucky but you knew based off his face, there was something on his mind. 

“I think you both should talk” 

There it is. 

“There’s nothing to talk about” You shrugged, swirling your drink around with your straw while Sam sighed. 

“You’re both miserable”

“I made him miserable” You countered, nervously fidgeting with your fingers instead.

“You know that’s not true-” Sam started but the scoff you let out let him know that was a pointless road to go down, “Okay fine. Things weren’t great. But it was an abrupt end and he’s been kicking himself and you don’t look like you’re doing so hot either sweetheart” 

“Thanks” You deadpanned while he grinned, giving your hand a squeeze. 

“He’s really trying for you, y/n” Sam said softly, the playfulness in his voice replaced with sincerity. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Talk to him” 

-

You spent the rest of the week contemplating what Sam said but every time you picked up your phone, you dropped it again. You messages would probably be ignored and he likely hated you even more. Which is why you were curled up on the couch, trying not to think about him, having a night for yourself, hoping not to be tempted with your phone though a soft thump at the door pulled you away from the story. You set down the book you were reading, growing nervous when you heard the sound again. You were sure you were just hearing things but this time it was more clear. The second knock at the door made you blink, curious to know who would come by at this time. 

“Bucky?” You gasped, surprised to find him standing on the other side, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand, the stems nearly crushed from how nervous he was, “What-what are you doing here?” 

“It’s-fuck, it’s been hell sweets” Bucky whispered, his knees already ready to give way, the smell of home, the sight of you, all making him feel overwhelmed. “Hell knowing I hurt you” 

You stepped aside to let him in, not wanting to keep him in the hallway. Bucky stayed rooted in place on the welcome mat, not wanting to cross a boundary if you didn’t want him there. He hesitantly came in when you gave him a small nod, his movements shaky as he toed his boots off and followed you to the living room, the both of you standing in silence.  

“You said you didn’t want me” You kept your eyes trained on your feet, tears already threatening to spill over, you could feel the warmth of his body with how close he was, smell the scent of his laundry detergent, his cologne, the leather of his jacket. 

“How could I not want you sweets, you’re one of the reasons I’m alive-”

“Didn’t seem that way” 

“I know baby, but-” 

“Don’t call me that James” You shook your head, your heart twisting hearing his pleading voice, the sweet names he had for you making you weak. 

“No” Bucky shook his head as he felt his stomach drop at the sound of his name coming from your mouth, he despised it, hated it, “ m’not James, m’your Bucky, your Jamie, your baby, please-”

“You’re not a lot of things” You tried to keep your voice steady but it was already beginning to crack, your nails digging into your palms to keep from pulling him into you when he stepped closer. 

“I’m sorry” 

You remained silent, swallowing the lump that made your throat tighter, your vision blurry.

“I’m so sorry doll, please?” 

You could hear the quiver in his voice, now barely a whisper, the sniffle between his words making your lip tremble. 

“Please?” 

The soft sob that slipped past your lips at his pleading voice broke Bucky, his legs giving way, desperate to take away everything he did to hurt you. He was on his knees, his face buried in your tummy, his tears soaking your shirt. His cries were muffled as he tried to burry his face in further, desperately clinging onto you while you hesitantly brought a hand to card through his hair. 

“Why” You still felt like you had so many things left unanswered. 

“It was never you baby” Bucky kept himself hidden from you, his arms hugging you tightly while continuing to rest against your stomach. “I-I kept everything inside and it spilled onto you, I don’t have the words- M’selfish baby. I’m so selfish because I want you, I want to love you, I want everything you give me, I miss you, I missed you, I shouldn’t have walked out, m’sorry”

You hummed, petting his hair softly, the simple action causing him to feel even more emotional. 

“Please, wanna be your Bucky, please, I’m sorry doll” He nervously tilted his face up, his chin still pressed against your stomach, tears streaming down his cheeks. You placed your hand on his scruffy cheek, which he instantly leaned into, your thumb swiping away his tears. 

“I-I’m scared” You said truthfully, every single fiber in your body wanting to pick him up and cling onto him forever but you were nervous. He walked out once...

“I’ll give you all the space you need. Just please give me another chance, it doesn’t have to be today or soon, just- I promise I’ll do better doll” 

You nodded, taking his hand in yours to pull him to his feet, letting him sit on the couch with you. Bucky placed the flowers he was till clutching onto on the coffee table before sitting beside you, mindful to keep some space in between. 

“I-I told Tony to pull me out of missions”  

“What?”

Bucky nodded with a small smile, it was the first thing he did when he realized he had to take care of himself first before coming back to you. You’d done enough of picking up his broken pieces. 

“The missions weren’t good for me. Too many, a lot of them triggering. I needed to pull back but I kept going. Didn’t stop until I ended up hurting you. Figured it was time I spoke up. Even started to see a therapist”

“You did?” You couldn’t help but inch closer to him, knowing exactly how much he struggled with opening up. 

“I did it for me so I could be better for you” Bucky stated honestly; he made the choice to better himself because that’s what you deserved. “You don’t have to take me back right away-

“Come back home” You whispered, meeting his eyes with your teary ones, you’d take it slow if you had to but you wanted to do it with him by your side. 

“Are you sure?” Bucky’s heart hammered out of his chest, not wanting to get his hopes up or make you feel like he was pressuring you, “I’ll wait if you need more time-” 

“Come back home” You cut him off, biting your lip to keep from crying again, clawing into his lap, his arms engulfing you into a tight hug while you clung onto him, burying your face into his neck. He smelled like love, home, your heart. The feel of his arms wrapped around you made you feel safe and whole again. 

“Come home, Bucky” You hugged him tighter while he pulled away, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. 

“Bucky?” He whispered, having missed the way his name sounded, the softness of your voice, the way you fit with him. 

“My Bucky” You nodded, letting your forehead rest against his, pressing a soft kiss to his nose. 

“Jamie?”

“My Jamie”

“Baby”

“My baby” 

“M’never leaving again, angel” 

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club @eralen @perdidosbucky-yyo @clqrosmgc   @buckybarnessweetheart   @pandaxnienke   @manyfandomsfanvergent  

[brooooswriting]

hi, can I request a fluffy leighton x reader where the reader is having just a really bad day (late to class, someone spilled coffee on her, etc) and she’s just super stressed and anxious and leighton notices and tries to make her feel better and helps her through it? and ofc leighton’s roommates are totally unused to seeing her being soft with someone so they’re all shocked and stuff

Softie

Sometimes life just seemed to fuck you over and today was just one of those days. It started early in the morning, or well it didn’t which was the problem. Your alarm didn’t ring as your phone charger didn’t work. You woke up a lot later than you normally did resulting in you getting late to class and after class was finally done and the prof was done lecturing you about being late, you walked out of the room just for someone to bump into you and spill their hot coffee over your shirt. As you were already late you didn’t have time to change for your next course, instead just closing the jacket which was at least a bit better.

When it was finally time to eat, at least in theory, you went back to your dorm room to change and since your phone was still off you couldn’t even text your friends about not coming. Happy to finally arrive at your dorm you opened the door just to hear weird noise coming from your room. It took you a second to figure out what those noises were before sighing, your roommates sex life really always was your enemy. Since you couldn’t go into your room you just grabbed a new jacket to pull over your shirt, hoping that it’d fix the problem at least a bit.

During lunch, your friends sat at the same table as always. Leighton was constantly checking her phone, a worried look on her face. “It’s weird that she’s not answering right?” She asked her friends making them freeze for a moment, it wasn’t often that the blonde was asking for advice.

“Wait, is the leighton Murray worried about someone else?” Whitney asked, fake surprise in her voice as she widens her eyes earning an annoyed look from her friend.

“Did you maybe do something to upset her?” Kimberly asked innocently.

“Oh my god, did you say somebody else’s name during sex?” Bella intervened, making the rest of the group cringe. Especially Leighton who shuddered before shaking her head.

“What kind of question is that? Of course not and I don’t think I did anything to upset her. Yesterday everything was fine, we were out and then she brought me home, kissed me good night and went to her dorm. Later we texted shortly before saying good night and going to sleep. Since then I haven’t heard from her” she explained, wrecking her brain trying to think of anything she could have done. The rest was still kinda perplex, the blonde never talked about her private life like this. It already took them hours to get out of her who she was dating.

“Well, do you know if she had a course with anyone you could ask?” Whitney suggested.

“Oh, Lila. Didn’t you have Econ or whatever with y/n this morning?” She suddenly called out to the girl who was walking by their table.

“Yeah I did, dude was late as shit and left me alone in that boring ass course” Lila complained on and on until the blonde finally interrupted her.

“What do you mean she was late?” You were normally very punctual so this was already kinda weird.

“What do you mean ‘what I mean?’ Class started at 7:30, your hot stuff girlfriend arrived at like 8:15, leaving me alone for 45 minutes. But she did seem like she had a rough night or morning. If she did, that bitch is excused. But only this once” with that the sips manager disappeared.

After a moment Leighton stood up and grabbed her food confusing the rest of them as she didn’t say anything. “Where are you going?” Bela asked.

“I wish I could be looking for my girlfriend but instead I have to go and write a shitty math test that is way to easy anyway” she aggressively packed away her stuff before storming off to her lecture.

You never thought you’d say that you’d rather be in Leightons weird ass math class than at sips. But Thursdays were always extremely full and a lot of the people there were frat boys who treated workers like shit. Normally you were at least two people on Thursdays but Zoe had to call in sick last minute leaving you alone with a whole lot of work. Throughout your whole shift the frat boys tried to humiliate you and made you work twice as hard as they spilled everything on purpose and didn’t throw away anything. Your shift went an hour and a half longer than normal exhausting you even more.

Once you could finally leave you felt like breaking down, your eyes were wet, your bottom lip trembling and you were barely moving your feet. As soon as you entered the building your body moved on its own finding the way to your girlfriend’s dorm who was still panicking. She only knew that you were alive was due to other people telling her that they saw you. “If I don’t hear from her in the next hour I’ll get the police or some shit” she told the others while aggressively typing on her phone. “I have been everywhere. Her sips shift was over over an hour ago. I was at her dorm, the library, the cafeteria and the gym but she’s nowhere to be found” she added.

“Have you looked at sips?” Whitney asked making the blonde scoff.

“It’s Thursday” she answered leaving everybody confused, “She hates it there on Thursdays, so why would she stay longer?” While Kimberly found it unbelievably cute that Leighton knew which days you liked and which not she realized that the blonde didn’t have a clue how shifts might work.

Just as she was about to explain that to her there was a knock on the door. The youngest Murray sibling quickly jumped up to see who was behind the door, a relief sigh leaving her when she saw you. But her relief quickly disappeared when she saw how your shoulders were hanging, your eyes wet and barely sparkling anymore and your lips trembling when you tried to greet her. Everybody looked at you, making it even worse. Leighton quickly pulled you in to the room, her hands caressing your cheek softly. “What happened y/n?” She asked carefully while studying your face.

You tried to speak but every time you wanted to open your mouth, you could feel yourself starting to cry. The blonde didn’t want to force you to speak so she just wrapped you in a hug which made you sob out. “Shh, it’s okay. Everything is gonna be okay” she mumbled over and over, feeling all her roommates watch her. They couldn’t believe it, Leighton was hugging someone and in addition to that, someone who was crying. While they stared at her, she tightened her arms around you as she felt your legs giving out. “Bela, Kimberly couch” she asked. They quickly stood up and set on the seats across the couch so you two could sit there. When your cries slowly died down, the blonde pointed at the fridge, making Kimberly get up to get you a bottle of water. “Thank you”

Once your girlfriend had forced you to drink some water with the words “you don’t want to look puffy later do you?”, she repeated her question from before. “It’s stupid, really” you answered but the look she gave you made you continue. “I just had a bad day” you then explained, looking down at your hands.

“That isn’t stupid, love” she comforted, her hands still rubbing circles across your back.

“Can we ask what happened?” Whitney said carefully. One, she didn’t wanna upset you further, and two, she was scared of Leighton is she did upset you further.

“It’s just, my charger broke so my phone didn’t load which meant that my alarm didn’t ring. Then I was too late to Econ and the prof lectured me like half an hour after the lecture that I was too late and as soon as I left the room somebody spilled their hot coffee onto me, but I was already too late to change. So I had to sit in my next lecture drenched in hot coffee and when I wanted to change during lunch I walked into my dorm just for my roommate to have another one night stand over, so I couldn’t change. And when I arrived at sips I was told that Zoe called in sick so I was alone and it was so full and these stupid frat boys were there so I had to work longer than my shift went and they made me spill oat milk on myself” by the end you were nearly crying again. If it wasn’t for Leighton giving you comfort you definitely would.

“See, I told you Zoe is evil” Whitney pointed out, receiving a glare from Leighton which made you chuckle a bit. The moment the sound left your mouth the blonde stopped glaring and instead smiled at you. “I’m sorry the day was so shitty” she then added.

“Oh, I know these frat boys they’re so rude. They always knock their coffee down on purpose” Kimberly said, hoping that that would help you.

“Did you take on of those anxiety pills?” Leighton asked.

“No, they’ve been empty for like three weeks but the pharmacy isn’t delivering them. I called like 60 times and I even went there but nothing. They’re ignoring me” you explained while playing with the blondes fingers to calm yourself down.

“Wait, are you still wearing the shirt with the oat milk on it?” Bela asked as her eyes wandered down to your shirt. You gave her a nod with your lips pressed into a thin line.

“Alright, get up. You’re going to change and then we are going to deal with the rest” you only whined, moving seemed really hard right now and you’d rather not do anything. But the blonde grabbed your hand and pulled you up and into her room. The others tried to give you privacy but couldn’t help the glance through the open door where they witnessed Leighton pulling the shirt over your head and helping you put on another one. You didn’t even need to be told to get on the bed, instead just immediately falling into it, burying your face in the pillow that smelled like your girlfriend.

“Are you gonna come cuddle?” Your voice was muffled due to the pillow which somehow made the whole thing even cuter to Leighton. She nodded and placed herself next to you so you could cuddle. The fact that you were now going to sleep while it wasn’t even 5 pm wasn’t something she liked as you’d definitely have problems sleeping later but she ultimately decided that an hour won’t hurt after the day you had. She’d just wake you up when it was time for dinner.

“No! I mean today, latest in 2 hours. I don’t care, we’ve been waiting for these meds for weeks now!” Leighton nearly screamed into the phone as she exited her room, “Look if you don’t want a lawsuit you’ll bring them in the next two hours. Oh trust me, I have the money to run you down until you do not have a penny anymore. Thank you very much” when she hung up the phone she saw three pair of eyes starring at her.

“What?” She asked her roommates.

“What was that?” Whitney asked, her brows furrowed while the rest also starred at her.

“That damn pharmacy that’s been blowing y/n off” she shrugged as she sat down next to Bela on the couch. “Oh, Kimberly. Do you still have that calming green tea?”

“Uhm, yeah I do. I think it’s in the drawer over there, take as many as you need” the girl pointed to a drawer close to the fridge making Leighton stand up to find the package.

“Great, thank you. I’m gonna get some of y/ns favorite snacks. Does anybody else want something?” After each of them added at least on snack she quickly walked to the small store on campus to get everything. Once she was back the medication was already in front of the door and she still had enough time to brew your tea before she wanted to wake you. “Alright everybody, here are your snacks” she announced as she placed their bag on the table, keeping yours safely stowed in her hand while she heated up a cup of water.

“Love, come on. Wake up, it’s dinner time soon” she carefully shook you awake before placing a soft kiss in your cheek.

“How long did I sleep?” You grumbled as you hid your face in her stomach, still way too sleepy to think clear. The way the blonde brushed her fingers through your hair nearly made fall back asleep.

“Like an hour, but it’s dinner time and you gotta eat something so up you go” she encouraged noticing your hesitation and the way your eyes were darting around endlessly. It was a typical thing you did when you got anxious. “Hey, it’s alright. I even got you your meds so your mind and body can relax a bit” She presented the meds and the tea to you after helping you sit up.

“Thank you” she only gave you a soft smile and wrapped an arm around you.

Not long after you sat in the cafeteria, just observing the discussion the table had while eating your food. Due to the medication you were a lot calmer, giving you time to rest. Your whole body leaned against Leightons something she actually encouraged. Except for Bela, who once saw Leighton and the first girl she knew of make out, no one of them had ever seen her this touchy with anybody.

“Hey what are you guys thinking about watching a movie before we go to sleep? There’s a new Netflix movie that I think we’d all enjoy” Kimberly suggested, earning a yes from everybody except Leighton who instead looked at you who said yes.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” She whispered to you who was laying on her shoulder. You really liked Kimberly and she was scared that you were only too nice to say no. The nod you gave her didn’t convince her at all so you grabbed her chin to title her head down making it easier for you to press a kiss to her lips.

“I promise I’m up for this” you reassured again, she nodded at you and then at Kimberly who happily clapped her hands.

After all of you finished eating you redecorated the dorms common room so all of you could sit comfortably while watching the movie on the small projector Leighton bought during on of her shopping trips. You sat in front of your girlfriend, your back against her front with a blanket over your legs. To everybodies surprise the movie was actually good and all of you enjoyed it. At least until your eyelids became heavier and you drifted to sleep in her arms. When she noticed that you were asleep she pulled the blanket higher and pressed a kiss to your forehead mumbling a quiet ‘sleep well’.

“Who knew Leighton Murray could be such a softie?” Whitney grinned as she looked at you two earning an agreeing nod from the other two.

“What?!” The blonde asked visibly confused.

“Dude you’re a simp for your girl” Bela laughed enjoying the look on her roommates face.

“I am not” she argued back. “You’re so lucky she’s asleep otherwise I’d beat you up”

“Well, she’d kinda right. But like in a good way, you really care for her and it’s very sweet” Kimberly explained knowing that Leighton wouldn’t do anything to her as you liked her too much. Something that actually proved what she just said.

“Whatever! You guys are crazy” she complained feeling you stir slightly in her arms, “and now be quiet before you wake her”

“Simp” Bela whispered while turning her focus back on the movie only to miss the pillow that was chucked her way.

She knew that she was soft for you and she loved it, she loved you. But that wasn’t her roommates business.

[creativewritersposts]

fucked up - Nico Hischier

summary; Nico Hischier x reader.

The honest opinion from a person you really like can hurt the most. But what if Nico regrets it?

warning(s); bad language, angst, argument, fluff, maybe grammar errors

author's note; based on a true story. I'm sorry for not posting "happy-clappy fluff imagines" like usually (promise they'll come back soon). I can't write just pure fluff when I'm crying a river.

--------------------------------------------------------------

It's the third day in a row that Nico doesn't want to talk with you. You can't explain why, but your stomach feeling tells you, something is not okay. You tried to distract yourself with work, work and more work. But when you step in your apartment, you're mentally break down. Your overthinking says hello. You grab your phone, trying to call him, just his mailbox.

"What did I do wrong", you mumble to yourself, biting on your lip. It's rainy outside, like how you feel. You're starring at other people out of the window, until your phone vibrates. "hello?", you start the conversation without looking on the screen, who it is. "it's Nico, are you at home?", his voice sounds deep and kinda annoyed, "yes", you smile, happy to hear he's alive. "Ok bye", he hangs up without a second. You stress yourself to cook a nice dinner in an hour until the door bell rings. "hi baby!", you want to wrap your arms around his neck, but he pushes you politely away, "we need to talk, something is bothering me", his brown eyes let you feel confused, he never been so serious. You nod and let him walk in your kitchen. "I cooked dinner for us two", you smile to blow the negative vibes away. "Do you think dinner will change the fact you act exaggerate?!", his tall body turns around because he stands before you. "huh?", you're even more confused. "We're not together and you stress me out", he tolerates no argument whilst speaking. Honestly you're not able to argue. It's like a punch in your face. "what did I do?", you feel so small. Even when he told you this in a respectful way. "you stress me out. You want to text non-stop and you're not my girlfriend, not yet. After last night with five text messages I'm thinking if it's a good idea to ask you for that", Nico grabs your shaky hands,"it's not like I'm not interested anymore", he kisses your forehead. You're just able to nod and accept the fact. What he needs and wants.

"Thank you for telling me this", your fake smile shows sadness. Nico doesn't want to hurt you on purpose. "I'll pack in the pesto for you", with blurry eyes you do that, giving him the lunch box. Nico just stays calm, taking it and when you close the door behind you, he thinks of hoping you understood what he meant.

The next days your chest feels heavy, texting no message, you don't call him, you let him his freedom. You know Nico lost the finals of the world championship, he looked so disappointed and usually you would at least send him something lovely, but your brain tells you; you were clingy. You're the problem. You're a bad Person for bothering someone. You don't enjoy being a clingy girl.

In the middle of night your phone vibrates again, like ten times until you groan, you're not in the shape to talk happy phone calls. "hey, are you ok?", his voice sounds occupied. "Sure", you reply. "You didn't text me once. I'm worried. We lost", he let you know the news. Of course you're not saying that you watched his game. Like he gave you a clear message. You would be clingy you're not his girlfriend and he owes you nothing.

"I'm sorry to hear that", your hands shake again. You don't feel comfortable anymore, more like you have to hide your personality to be not the problem anymore. "I didn't mean that I don't like to talk with you", he coughs. "I really like you anyway as a person who you are", he talks more. "I'm tired, good night", hanging up until he can hear how much you're hurt. Just thoughts hunting you in your head;

what are you doing now?

What is the right way to deal with this?

[cinnnamongrl]

sorority secrets- ellie williams (part 5- final part)

pairing: college!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: final part of this fic. you can find part 4 here.

warnings: [18+ MDNI] explicit language, top!ellie, bottom!reader, fingering, oral sex, strap-on sex (all r!receiving), ellie refers to the strap as her dick 💯, praise. i think that’s it!

author’s note: final part! here she is! i’ve had so much fun writing this series, hope u enjoy <3

a relaxed comfortable silence clouded over the eta house living room. for everyone else at least. for you and ellie the silence was full of tension, regret, and apologies that sat on the tongue but were stopped by your egos. you felt bad for leaving her dorm after yesterdays fight. ellie felt bad for letting you leave. avoiding each other wasn’t an option when you were in a sorority together, but part of you was glad you were being forced to see ellie despite how awkward you felt.

“EW” madison’s voice broke the peaceful quiet of the living room. “what?!” chloe asked. “i just tried that old person filter on tiktok and i look BUSTED” a few girls moved over to look at madison’s phone and laughed, moving their heads to the middle of the screen so the filter could take effect. you watched on from the sofa, knees brought up to your chest. ellie was watching you; she was frustrated, less at the situation now and more at not being able to sit next to you and put her arms around you. it was an extra blow that just as everyone found out about you, you couldn’t touch or kiss anymore anyway.

“ellie, you try!” emilia took madison’s phone and hopped over to ellie, sitting down next to her to show her the filter on herself. ellie gave a dry laugh and emilia giggled, screenshooting the screen, “that’s what you’ll look like when you’re 60!” chloe got up and took the phone from emilia and showed the screenshot to you “are you still gonna be into her when she looks like this?” she joked. you exhaled in an awkward attempt at a laugh, not really knowing what to say with ellie looking right at you. you noticed emilia rolling her eyes. chloe took the phone from your face, “oh- are you guys not cool anymore?” you looked at ellie who was looking down at her lap. “oh we thought cause you kissed you were like, dating or whatever” madison spoke. “did you break up because of the campus news thi-“ “guys can we change the subject-“ emilia interrupted, “-i’m sure they don’t want everyone going on about some stupid kiss in an alleyway!”

a moment passed.

“an alleyway?” chloe asked. ellie’s head shot up. then yours. you stated at each other. a million words passing between you but none actually spoken. “how do you know it was in an alleyway?” chloe elaborated. you didn’t miss the way emilia’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “it’s- uh- i’m just guessing!” she stumbled. brittney watched the way you and ellie stared in shock at each other and she stood from the sofa. “everybody out.” all the girls looked towards her. “i’m serious everyone out, i have stuff to do.” everyone got up to walk away, emilia grabbing her bag and making a quick walk towards the door. “except emilia.” brittney spoke. “i need your help with something.” emilia stopped in her tracks and turned back around, looking extremely uncomfortable. your brain was barely processing what was happening as you walked out of the eta house. ellie was right behind you and she put a hand on your back as you stepped away from the house, “hey, are you okay?” you looked at her and blinked a few times. “yeah… i think so? just in shock.” ellie nodded, “do you want to come back to my dorm? you can say no i understand if-“ “yes please.” neither of you said a word on your way to her dorm. as you sat on her bed with crossed legs, she had placed herself sitting by you, back leaning against the wall against her bed.

“so emilia huh?” ellie broke the silence. “yeah, but… why?” you twisted your body towards her. “beats me” ellie replied. “but uh, hey at least you know who to go to to try and get it removed” she added. all the regret from yesterday paired with the craziness of what just went down at the eta house was feeding you the courage to put all the complicated shit aside and just do something for yourself. “i don’t want to get it removed.” ellie frowned at you, “what do you mean?” you shuffled closer to her, sitting on your legs “i don’t care about the feature. i was being stupid and scared but i’m not gonna be stupid and scared anymore. i’m sorry. i’ll email it to my parents if you want, honestly-“ ellie laughed and put both hands on your upper arms shushed you, “shh baby, it’s ok. i don’t need you to email it to your parents. it was never about that-“ you were breathing heavily from your outburst, listening to her talk “-i just wanted to know you really liked me. and were… serious about things. ‘cause i’m obsessed with you.” she finished. a small laugh bubbled from your chest and your eyes started to water, all the emotion from the past few days catching up on you.

“i do really like you els. i’m sorry for caring so much about what my parents think and about the campus news feature, i just...” a tear rolled down your cheek and ellie moved closer to wrap her arms her arms around you “‘s ok, angel. i’m sorry i was being pushy; i know your parents put a lot of pressure on you and i don’t want to make you feel rushed to come out or anything like that. you need to go at your own pace” she spoke softly as she held your head in her neck, fingers stroking the skin there. “but we really should get that feature taken down, that photo did not get my best side at all,”. you giggled into her neck. “plus… the title was all wrong. you’re not chad’s girl,” she smirked, “you’re mine.” you lifted you head to look at her, “right?” your cheeks were warm and there was a little smile on your lips as you nodded. “‘m your girl.” she smiled at you “my pretty girl.” and she kissed you. you melted into her, body relaxing completely before being suddenly jolted from a loud bang at her door. “i swear to god we are uhauling and getting a house far away where no one can interrupt us kissing anymore” ellie sighed before getting up and opening the door.

brittney stood, hand on hip, usual face of displeasure as she glided into the room “i should be getting a fucking salary for this job” she chucked her bag on the floor “mom never told me that having to kick girls out of the sorority because of batshit crazy lesbian drama was part of the job description of eta president but here we are.” she crossed her arms. you tried to hide a laugh. “you kicked her from eta?” ellie asked. “yeah she’s a freak.” brittney clarified, waving a hand in dismissal. “so uh… why did she do it?” you tried. “ugh. she’s like, in love with ellie or some shit.” your mouth fell open in shock “yeah i don’t get it either” brittney said, straight faced. ellie snorted, “sorry, she’s what?”. brittney huffed “she said she only did it because she was into you and that you,” she looked at you, “were stealing her away and would be much better suited to chad anyway” your mouth was still dropped “that is.. actually deranged” “yeah i know right. all that over ellie”. ellie ran a hand over her face, trying to process everything brittney was saying, as were you. “i was suspicious of her for a while. i mean who cares that much about setting someone up with a guy. and chad as well,” she pulled a face, “-i’d rather watch fucking paint dry”. you were running through all your interactions with emilia, everything piecing together. ellie was thinking about brittney; amused that despite the subtle insults towards her that she threw in every sentence, she wasn’t doing well to hide that she actually cared about her in some form. she was always grateful when she’d drag emilia away when she interrupted you two but now it was in a completely different context; it was for ellie’s sake not her own. she couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at this newfound discovery of brittney being a decent sister. brittney’s head snapped to ellie “what?”. “you care about me”, ellie chuckled. “oh shut up. i just wanted an excuse to kick emilia out, she was annoying me anyway. like who the fuck still sends snapchat streaks in 2023. anyway, i’m needed elsewhere. bye losers” she picked her bag back up and left. despite defending herself against the horrors of being nice, after years of living with brittney, ellie knew she wouldn’t have kicked her best friend out of eta for nothing. ellie had a silent moment of collecting her thoughts after the quiet of the room resumed after brittney’s exit.

you let out a big sigh from ellie’s bed and she turned her head towards you. “crazy day, huh?” you spoke. ellie chuckled and sat herself next to you. “yeah,” she huffed, “i’m still annoyed at brittney though.” you frowned a little, and rested your hand on top of hers “why?” “because she interrupted our big dramatic make-up kiss”. you laughed and shuffled back a little onto her bed crossed legged facing towards her “an unforgivable crime”. ellie turned her body to face you “well that moment’s gone so i’ll have to find another excuse to kiss you”. you looked to the side “hm how’s ‘we haven’t kissed in over 24 hours and i’m getting serious withdrawal symptoms’ for an excuse?” she grinned at you, “perfect”, she leaned towards you and connected her lips to yours, one hand gently holding your face. you sighed into the kiss and she deepened it, letting her tongue find yours. you repositioned yourself so that your legs were flat and she took advantage of your position by slotting a leg in between yours and pushing you down onto her bed gently, mouth not leaving yours. one of her hands stayed on your face and the other travelled down your side slowly, from your ribs down to your thigh, past your skirt. need was building with every second longer she kissed you and ellie was trying to take things slow and not rush despite having you pressed against her bed like she’d pictured since the first time you sat there with shy hands shuffling around. it had been even worse since the sleepover, spending nearly every night since then with her hand down her boxers thinking about your mouth hung in pleasure and the pretty little sounds you made.

a little squeak came from your mouth and ellie discovered she’d pressed her thigh perfectly against your cunt without even realising. now that she knew, she was absolutely going to use your reaction as an indication to carry on. she adjusted her leg and it pressed perfectly into your clit again, tearing a small sound from you, making your face hot from exposing how worked up you were already. ellie chuckled slightly “needy thing” you pouted at her tease and she smiled down at you “‘s ok. that feel nice?” you nodded and she copied it, hit of mocking there, “aw. you want more?” you nodded again and she tutted “need you to use your words, sweet girl” you twisted your mouth to the side and chewed on your bottom lip, embarrassment prickling at you, “want more, ellie” “what do you want, baby?” you huffed lightly, “jus- want you to touch me”. she attached her mouth to yours again and your eyes fluttered shut again, all thoughts lost when she was kissing you.

she let a ‘mm’ sound into your mouth as she reluctantly left your lips “where?” she wasn’t ready to give up the pleasure she was getting from making you flustered trying to vocalise your neediness. “want your fingers again li- like last time.” ellie smirked and let her hand travel to your inner thigh, stroking your soft skin under your skirt. “yeah? you want me here?” as the last word left her mouth she cupped your pussy through your panties and you jolted at the pressure against your clit. a strangled “yes” left your lips. she pecked your lips “good girl” and her hands travelled up to the hem of your top and she held the bottom of your top with two fingers as her thumbs stroked your stomach there, “can i take this off?” she whispered. you nodded and she bunched the material up, when it moved past your tits she let go and a groan you could’ve easily missed was caught in her throat. she brought her hands up and cupped them, staring at your tits like you weren’t watching her. seconds later she was dipping her head to attach her mouth to your left tit, fingers rolling over the nipple on your other. you let out the quietest little whimper and ellie felt like her eyes might roll back just from hearing it “so sensitive all over” she admired, before bringing her mouth to your other tit, swirling her tongue around your nipple and sucking, bringing another little whimper from you. ellie was already getting desperate; fighting down the urge to pull out her strap from its place under her bed and make you take it right now. but she was willing to be patient and she was equally as desperate to keep you here for the whole day and night if it meant getting to see you like this for hours more.

her hand finally made its way back under your skirt and she hooked a finger under the elastic of your panties and inched them down your thighs slowly. when they reached your ankles the realisation that you were completely exposed dawned on you, no panties and top bunched up over your tits, ellie not even having bothered to take it off in the end. you made a move to close your legs together and she held your thighs with both hands, forcing them back open and looking at you with blown out pupils “need to taste you. please?” her desperation causing her dominant act to slip a little. “ok” your voice small. a half-second later she had shuffled herself down your body, face lined up with your cunt, skirt flipped up onto your tummy. “god.” she mumbled as if to herself. “you’re pretty everywhere.” your face went hot and you fought against the urge to close your thighs again in embarrassment. she dipped down and licked a stripe up your pussy, collecting your wetness with her tongue and her strangled moan vibrated against your cunt. as she closed her mouth around your clit, your hips lifted, chasing more pressure, strain of little whines leaving your mouth. ellie gripped your hips and pressed you back down as she sucked on your clit, ripping a loud moan from you. she was almost feral; lapping you up like a woman starved and working her mouth on you with an eagerness that didn’t compromise her skills. your mind went cloudy at the pleasure and you hadn’t even realised her finger had been circling your hole until it dipped into you slowly, only a little way inside you.

ellie had this way of consuming you fully whenever she was with you; all your mind could focus on was her, and right now, how she was making you feel. more specifically the beautiful pleasure of her mouth working on your clit combined with the aching feeling of her finger teasing your entrance, there but not fully there. “please” is all you managed, voice shaky. ellie debated taking her mouth from you to force you to ask for what you wanted properly, but she was drunk on you; the feeling of you in her mouth, your taste, smell, sounds, so she let you have it. she pushed in deeper, curling her finger and reaching that perfect spot inside you. your back arched and she gripped you tighter, keeping you in place as she continued her movements.

it wasn’t long before you could feel yourself getting close; it was obvious to ellie from the way your body tensed and breathing got more erratic. “ellie-mmh” your hands gripped the sheets beneath you and ellie groaned into your cunt in response, pushing you to that final peak, loud moan leaving your mouth as your body shook slightly.

your breathing slowed and body relaxed as you came down from your high. with your eyes still shut your hand reached out to ellie “els?”. she kissed you sloppily, your juices on her tongue mixing with your saliva intensifying the pumping in her clit. she couldn’t help but grind down on your thigh a little as she kissed you. “els- wanna touch you.” she looked down at you, and then placed little kisses over your face and neck “mm kiss not as much kiss as i want to kiss touch you” you let out a short breath, “but- wanna make you feel good too” you pouted slightly. she moved her head to look directly at you again. “you wanna make me feel good?”. you nodded your head eagerly. “then let me fuck you.”

you blinked a few times “you- you just did?”. she chuckled and pecked your lips before getting up from the bed and kneeling to reach for a box that was packed underneath it. as she located the box and held it in her hands a flicker of doubt went through her suddenly; what if this was too quick? what if it scared you off? what if you didn’t wan- her sudden flood of doubtful thoughts meant that she missed you crawling over to lay on your tummy on the bed in front of where she kneeled and lift open the box in her hands, snapping out of it when a tiny sound could be heard from your throat. her eyes snapped up to you and her doubts were promptly washed away when she saw the way you were looking down at her strap sitting idly in the box. your cheeks were warm and your tummy was doing flips but even your shyness couldn’t cover up the lustful look you carried in your eyes. “you want it?” ellie asked, voice dark. “mhm” you murmured. “lay back down for me then, angel”. you obeyed, laying back down, head on her pillow as she stripped off her pants and adjusted her strap over her boxers. she got back up on the bed and rested two arms beside you as she leaned over you,

“you can change your mind if you want. i don’t want to rush you into anyth-“ you pulled her body down to yours “i want it, ellie”. she smirked at you, “yeah?” “mm. i need it. need you inside”. ellie’s brain short circuited for a moment at your words before she grabbed the length of her fake dick and lined it up with your cunt. “tell me how badly you need it.” she practically begged as she stroked the tip up and down your folds, not missing the way your body would jerk every so slightly when she’d let it nudge against your clit. “so badly. needed it for so long”. she pushed into you slightly and you gasped, mouth open and eyes big and glossy. you wanted more so you pushed your hips down a little in an attempt to take her in further. ellie kissed the corner of your mouth before slowly pushing all the way in, filling you completely, forcing a whine from you. “me too, pretty girl. wanted you like this since the first time i saw you.” your eyes watered slightly from the stretch and your tummy fluttered with pleasure. “‘m gonna move ok?” she warned and you nodded, “please”. she started to thrust into you slowly and your head fell back further into the pillow. she continued her strokes, your walls tight around her “good girl, taking me so well” she praised and you whimpered in response.

your body and mind was filled completely with the feeling of ellie’s plastic cock deep inside you and her weight on top of you. you could tell she was being gentle for you, but your body was chasing the euphoria, desperate for whatever she could give you. “faster-“ you whined “please”. how could she say no when you looked so pretty and desperate? she picked up her pace, fucking into you quicker and harder now your body had adjusted to the size. ellie’s own arousal was reaching even higher, the harness rubbing against her clit perfectly as she fucked you. she watched you with admiration almost, your pupils blown and staring doe-eyed up at her, pretty mouth parted and tits rising up and down with each thrust. “you’re so pretty like this-“ she uttered, voice a little strained “-my perfect girl”.

“ellie” you whined and lifted your hands to her face, pouting to communicate what you wanted. she leaned down to kiss you, wet and hot and messy while her strap was repeatedly hitting the perfect spot inside you. as she pulled away she placed both hands on your hips so she could keep your body still as she fucked into you deep as possible. you cried out at the feeling, any consideration for ellie’s neighbours a forgotten thought to your fucked out brain. she lifted a hand from your hip and placed it on the side of your face, thumb ghosting over your lips before pushing past them into your mouth. “suck”. you did, swirling her thumb around in your mouth, a gentle hum coming from your throat. she took it out of your mouth and moved her hand down to where your bodies met, pressing her thumb against your clit. she started to rub little circles, flooding your body with even more bliss. soft strangled moans moved past your lips.

“i know baby. you like when i rub your little clit while i fuck you?”. you were completely gone, coil in your stomach tightening and head completely fuzzy. so much so you didn’t even realise ellie’s own climax was fast approaching, the friction against her clit and the way you looked underneath her was making her quickly fall apart. “g’nna make me fuc- fucking cum” she choked out. you hadn’t even realised that was possible but you knew it made your own release start to creep up on you even more rapidly “please, wanna come with you” you babbled. she was chasing her own high but still keeping the perfect rhythm for you. “you wanna come, yeah? show me baby, come all over my dick.” your body started to stiffen as all the pleasure you were feeling reached it’s peak. “that’s my good girl, coming for me so well” she rambled as she watched you fall apart. half a second later her own orgasm hit her and a string of praises, curses and your name left her mouth in a jumble. you watched, brain not fully functioning still but enough to appreciate the beauty of the sight above you, ellie coming apart completely with her face screwed up in pleasure and your name on her tongue.

your next coherent thought came when she was already laying beside you, both of your heavy breaths the only sound that could be heard, a harsh contrast to the obscene mix of noises and words bouncing around her room only a few seconds ago. she draped her arm over your stomach and nuzzled into you a little. you giggled and moved into her closer.

“i’m obsessed with you too, you know” you spoke. “i can tell” she joked and you nudged her arm off of you playfully. she laughed, “kidding, baby. i’m glad. cause you’re not escaping from me now. never” you smiled at her possessiveness, it was a joke but you knew it rang true. “‘s ok with me” you replied. ellie adjusted herself to sit up slightly, “you should go pee.” you nodded smiling, appreciating her taking care of you and got up to use her bathroom. when you came back she was tucked up in bed, covers pulled up high, little smile on her face. “come back here, i have something for us.” you raised an eyebrow and hesitantly crawled back into her bed. she yanked her hands from under the sheets and you saw her hands holding two capri-suns. you burst out laughing and grabbed one. “i see” your voice bubbling with amusement. “gotta get your energy back up somehow, babe” ellie told you. “are capri-suns good sources of energy?” you pondered. “i dunno, you bought them” she joked.

you laid for a while, capri-suns in hand and voices chatting consistently about nothing. possibly an odd scene to any on-looker but both you and ellie were exactly where you wanted to be. all the little issues from the past few hours, days, weeks were completely insignificant in the moments you shared alone; you were peacefully content and basking in the high from each others company.

and stupidly obsessed with each other.

tag list @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @nil-eena @alexpritch @robinismywifee @sc0ttstre3ted @ilovemoneymorethenmen @amberlynn28 @eyeluvangel @amitycat @callmelola111 @endureher @villainousbear @lazyotakuofficial @rolly-pollie @emiiiiiiiiiiiie @sophlovesbooks @lveunoialv @spaceshipellie @rqmantics

[hippolotamus]

Sentence Sunday ✨

I can show you lies 'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die I was grinning like I'm winning, I was hitting my marks 'Cause I can do it with a broken heart

Beloved mutuals and pocket pals... I honestly don't know what to say for myself. This is a case of 'I listened to a song too much, I had an idea I knew I was never gonna write' turned 'I'll just throw it out as a prompt' --> 'I'll just make a moodboard' --> 'Oh god, I've written over 1k words in place of a summary'. SO. Have... whatever this is, T Swift influenced Buddie actor au. Under the cut to save your dash.

Honestly, if the world still exists in the morning, Eddie Diaz doesn't really give a fuck. His girlfriend left, claiming he's still not over his late wife, and his teenage son, the last thread connecting him to said wife, went to go live with his grandparents. After, of course, blaming Eddie for pushing 'yet another one' away. Christopher wouldn't even look at him before he went.

Then there's Anita Mills, his agent, who is probably a few blood pressure points away from a stroke at this point. Assuming she doesn't fire him first.

Let her, he thinks, grabbing a bottle of Maker's Mark from the cabinet. He has a string of blockbuster films to his name, not to mention a commendable collection of Oscar's and Emmy's. Not that they made his parents proud or kept his wife from leaving him before she died. But they exist as proof that he's had a successful career. Between investments and liquid assets he has more money than he would know what to do with in a hundred lifetimes. So, fuck it.

Eddie breaks the wax seal and twists off the red cap. He doesn't even bother with a glass, not really seeing a need. He's never been a big drinker, but lately his tolerance has grown considerably. Indulging until he passes out seems like an ideal use of his time right now anyway. If he wakes up after? Well, he'll consider that a success.

------------------

"Hey! What the hell?!" Eddie manages, coughing and trying not to choke on the ice cold water hitting his body. He opens his eyes to see Mills towering over him, glowering and holding an empty vase. He swipes a hand across his face. "Seriously, Anita, what the fuck was that?"

"I don't know, Eddie, you tell me." She disappears for less than a minute, returning with a hand towel she unceremoniously drops on his chest. "Help me out here. What's today?"

He wriggles himself to something resembling sitting and leans back against the coffee table. "What's today?" He parrots back dumbly.

Anita crosses her arms and quirks an eyebrow. "I asked you first."

Today, today, today. Where was he supposed to be- "Shit! The interview with, uh, fuck." He snaps his fingers and racks his brain trying to remember a name or a face. All he knows is they're important.

"Claudette Collins. Very good, Eddie, you got it part way."

"Give me ten minutes, I'll put myself together and we can go," he says, fighting the violent wave of nausea that hits as he scrambles to stand up.

"Save your poor carpet from getting puked on and sit the hell down."

"What? No, I can-"

"Eddie," Anita interjects, "the interview was five hours ago. The interview with the Claudette Collins. The one that took me months of phone calls, groveling and cashing in favors to get for you."

Fuck. "Anita, I'm so sorry. How-"

"Save it." Anita holds her hand up, effectively silencing him. It takes him back to being seven years old and having to explain why his dad's truck had an enormous dent in it. She rests her hands on her hips, pacing back and forth as she purses her lips. Eventually she sits in the leather armchair situated in the corner. "Eddie, you and I have known each other a long time. A long time. I've been your agent since you walked into my shitty office back in Dallas. Given your impressive display of awards, I'd say we've done pretty well together."

She inhales sharply, rubbing at her temple. Anita doesn't mince words, it's part of why he's always liked her. He never has to question where he stands. She says 'jump' and he knows exactly how high. It's not difficult to guess what's coming next.

"Eddie, I know you're going through a rough patch. What you're dealing with is hard enough without seeing it splashed on every tabloid and trashy website. Not to mention none of those places knows the real story, so it's all a bunch of 'she said he might have said' bullshit. But you've made it through tougher things." Anita doesn't need to clarify that she's talking about Shannon's death and how his parents tried to take Christopher. "I don't know what's happening this time, but I need to take a step back. My wife has made it very clear that all of my attempts at stress management are not working and that if I can't get it under control I shouldn't be surprised when I come home to an empty house. So."

Eddie swallows, waiting for the inevitable and cursing himself for pretending he wouldn't care.

"I've talked to a few friends in the business and found someone willing to take you on."

What?

"What? You're not firing me?"

Anita's features soften. "Technically, yes. I am very much dropping you like a scorpion I found in my boots. However, like I said, I found someone willing to work with you. The name is Bobby Nash. He runs a smallish agency but don't let that throw you. He's cobbled together some pretty impressive talent. I assume you've heard of Evan Buckley?"

Eddie scoffs. "Of course I have. Who hasn't? Christ, he's everywhere you look. I can't pass a damn bus stop without seeing his face." A few details begin to click into place within Eddie's muddled brain. "Bobby Nash is his agent?"

"Sure is. And we all know the stories about Evan's past aren't the type you trot out at parties. My advice is that you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, go with Nash and do whatever he tells you to do. He even has a role in mind for you, costarring with Buckley. What do you say?"

What else was there to say? If Eddie didn't want to get blacklisted or wind up as some washed up tragic Hollywood story, being gossiped about where everyone - including his son - could see what a failure he was...

"I guess I say- when can I meet him?"

"Good answer." Anita clasps her hands together and gives him her signature smirk that tells him she approves. "Just leave everything to me."

Up to this point, Eddie has trusted Anita implicitly with all the messy business that comes with having him for a client. Why stop now?

tagged by @loveyouanyway @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @tizniz

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @epicbuddieficrecs @a-noble-dragon @mountedeverest @fortheloveofbuddie

@weewootruck @saybiwithme @bidisasterevankinard @shipperqueen6 @ramonaflow

@taketheplanspinitsideways @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz

@daffi-990 @diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend

@thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @underwaterninja13 @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss

@steadfastsaturnsrings @inell @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes

@shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress

@bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @ladydorian05

@lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @the-likesofus

@thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘

[alicerosejensen]

Can we see a headcanon of Leon’s girlfriend getting hit in by a guy(could be her guy friend) and they make her uncomfortable, then out of nowhere they just slap her on the butt. How would Leon react?

Minus one debt. Well, I'm glad I can write a little.

So, it's not even headcanons or text, but something in between. Like my thoughts.

There is a small smut, but not critical; Aggressive Leon; the reader shamelessly groped; Mention of physical violence (does not apply to the reader); Reader is a college girl (because I can, uh-huh); References to sexual violence.

I made the question a little worse, but the meaning would still be the same: Leon would fucking kill. Anyway.

- It could have happened at a party where you were hanging out with your friends.

- You have warned Leon that you will arrive late, but be sure to call him if there are any difficulties.

- You didn't really think you'd be late until 2am, but the booze and music convinced you to stay with your friends until early morning.

- No drugs! But you can't tell your college friend not to take them. In fact, you only drink and dance a lot, without even hearing that your phone is bursting with calls.

- Someday Leon will kill you for constantly playing on his nerves like a musical instrument (I'm not serious) but he's really worried that you're not answering texts or your calls, so it's time for things to track your phone.

- Leon can't stand some of your friends, considering he knows some of them are real junkies. He probably doesn't like that when they're high, they don't hesitate to make obscene compliments about how they would fuck you.

- When Leon first heard about it, you told him to just ignore it.

- But it was hard for Leon to control himself, if he heard it a second time, he would break this asshole's nose.

- Therefore, he is VERY concerned about your long absence and silence. Because he doesn't trust your friends.

- You realize that you have drunk more than your norm, because your feet no longer keep you on the ground. The whole world is spinning, but this does not mean that you could cheat on your boyfriend while drunk. Your brain knows who it is devoted to and who it loves.

- However, in this mess you absolutely can't find your phone to call him.

- I needed to at least get myself cleaned up. You started to feel sick, so you wandered to the toilet, then to catch a taxi and go home.

- With a swinging gait, you somehow reached your cherished goal when your friend's hand grabbed your wrist and pressed you against the wall with a brisk movement.

- The club is full of drunken kissing couples, so no one pays attention to you.

- Your brain didn't even immediately understand what was going on when someone godlessly started groping your ass.

- The back of your head hit the wall painfully, causing your brains to shake and turn into mush.

- And then someone's lips brazenly began to kiss your neck, despite the resistance.

- Someone's tongue is trying to get into your mouth with a disgusting kiss that tastes like cheap liquor.

- But weak attempts at resistance are perceived as flirting and teasing, despite the fact that you demand in a whimpering voice to stop.

- The only thing you know is that it's not Leon.

- "sh, hush, Sweetie, or are you just so submissive with your old man?" - Your friend's voice made you freeze in place in fear. - Like this! Be a pretty girl and let me touch you.

- Your (already former) friend allowed himself unforgivably much. You found the strength to push him in the chest and he staggered back a few steps away from you, mocking maliciously.

- "What? Do you only like old assholes, whore?"

- You try to pass by, ignoring his narcotic fumes mixed with alcohol, but again they grab you by the arm, dragging you somewhere to a secluded place.

- Your legs fail you and you stumble all the time trying to wrest your hands from a strong grip.

- Now you're not just uncomfortable. You are afraid.

- You scream to be let go otherwise there will be serious problems, hoping that this will somehow help you.

- But in return, you hear only disgusting insults.

- "Dumb slut! Your old man can even lift his ass off the couch to fuck you well! Tell me, Y/N, what did he do to you? money? Do you really want to live with a rich sugar daddy? You let him fuck you so he buys you all those tight skirts and blouses?"

- You are truly scared. Your friend is out of his mind and drags you into some back room, practically dragging you along. Even when you cry and fall trying to run back, he grabs your hair and continues on his way.

- It's not real! you try to convince yourself that this is a cruel joke of your friends, but it's all for real.

- You get pawed again trying to take away your tight dress, and even some of the self-defense techniques that Leon taught you do not work on him. You cry, begging not to do anything to you, that you will just leave and not tell anyone anything.

- Mascara dripped down your cheeks as you cried loudly, trying to somehow cover the bare parts of your body.

- Obscenities were whispered in your ear, and if it was Leon, some part of them could make you tremble, but now you just want to close your eyes and die.

- Salvation is nowhere to be found. However, you do not want to submit to your fate and bite your friend (I remind you of the former) painfully on the fingers when he put them in your mouth.

- Another attempt to escape in one inch. And it didn't succeed when they knocked you to the floor, preventing you from escaping.

- You may have time to shout "Help" several times before you are gagged and all you hear is the sound of jeans being unzipped.

- You had already closed your eyes, preparing for the worst, when you heard the sound of the door being thrown open.

- And then the relief when no one else presses you down with their body to the icy floor.

- Not understanding the madness around, part of your brain tells you to run while you can, but you understand your eyes only see an angry Leon beating up your rapist.

- How much chance does an ordinary civilian asshole have against a specially trained agent? Leon slams the bastard's head on the floor and you crawl back into the corner in horror, watching his bloodstained face stare at you.

- Maybe it seemed to you... But the beating to never end. In this chaos, you couldn't make out Leon's words, except for the expressions "Son of a bitch" and "Fucking scum" it seems there was something about your untouchability. However, you could no longer endure this spectacle of endless beatings. Is it possible that Leon tried to kill him like that?

- No gunshots, no squelching sounds like a knife stabbing in the throat. You just screamed in horror mixed with fear when you saw what this asshole had turned into. Although he could still speak, it made sure that he was still alive.

- Leon lost control of himself. He looked at him like a vile worm and headed towards you, immediately softening in his eyes.

- Without saying anything, he just wrapped you in his jacket before quickly making sure that what was planned was not done and picked you up like a feather in his arms, taking you away from this place.

- Lastly, "I'm not done with you, son of a bitch"

- Leon put you gently in the car and fastened your seat belt, and you spent the whole way home in silence and tears, afraid to look at him. He didn't say or do anything either.

- You returned home the same in his arms. Leon sat you down on the couch, tossed keys on the coffee table, and then kicked the chair that caught his eye first.

- The situation was heating up.

- Leon took a deep breath, licking his lips, clearly wanting to say something as he looked in your direction. You sat in the same place without moving.

- His aggression was overflowing and he had to make a huge effort not to yell at you, instead ordering you to take off your jacket (he was really trying to say it calmly)

- You obediently complied with his request, putting the leather jacket aside, hugging your shoulders.

- Still sobbing.

- Leon came back to you with a first aid kit to make sure there weren't any major injuries or scratches.

- But he couldn't contain his anger.

- "Why am I always pulling your ass out of all the shit?!"- Perhaps the sight of someone else's hickey on your neck made him scream. - "Is it so difficult not to look for problems? Why the hell should I look for you in a fucking drug club where your drug addict friend almost raped you?! Why the hell didn't you get home on time? How much of your fucking quirks do I have to put up with? until they kill you?"

- The hysteria grew, but there were absolutely no words. Leon threw something fragile at the wall, and it shattered into pieces, making you cry even more in fright.

- You prayed for only one thing: for this to end.

- Leon took a deep breath trying to control his anger. Without saying anything, he went into the bath where you heard the sound of running water.

- After 10 minutes, everything was quiet and Leon went into the kitchen pouring some whiskey into a glass, but instead of drinking it himself, he sat down in front of you, forcing you to drink it yourself.

- "Come on, let's get you cleaned up and then you can go to bed."

- Leon helped take off your torn dress and underwear and soaked your shaking body in warm water, turning away to find your facial sponge to wash off the smudged make-up.

- You were trembling despite the surrounding heat and apparently drunk alcohol makes itself felt.

- Leon tidied you up carefully, looking at your bruises. Didn't bother for a long time. Wrapped it up in a towel and took it to the bedroom where he pulled out your underwear from the drawer, which he put on you and his shirt.

- You knew he wouldn't hurt you, so maybe that's why you were still looking for protection from him? Leon laid pillows on you, covering you with a thick blanket, preparing himself for a sleepless night.

- In the morning you will feel bad. Both physically and mentally, of course, he will take care of you and he does not believe that you are to blame for what happened. It's just that if you really want to be with him, you'll have to cut your circle of fucking friends and not get on his nerves.

- He loves you to death, so you love him.

[nburkhardt]

Of Scissors & Wild Curls

Trying to beat out my writers block by writing an au troupe I absolutely love reading and haven’t written before. Just a heads up, it’s in modern times just so I don’t have to worry about being accurate to anything in the 80s ✌️ (this was stated on June 16th, when I started it)

anyway enjoy!

It’s the worst day of his entire life.

Right now. This is absolutely the day to end all bad days. It’ll be in his autobiography, it’ll be written in news articles and maybe a movie someday.

He wants to die a million deaths, truly.

It’s The Worst.

…. Or he might be exaggerating a bit. Just a little. Really, it’s not the end of the world.

This time at least.

Look, he’s had a long ass week and had a fight with some idiot taking pictures of him absolutely not falling on his ass. And the record label just told him that they need at least another album before letting the band take a much needed break.

Also, if he’s being truthful here, his writers block is a killer.

There’s a wall just planted in his brain, cutting off any and all lyrics the band needs for another fucking album.

Where was he again? Oh, worst day of his life.

“We’re going to stop in the next town, maybe we can find a place to- help?”

He groans and throws his head back, looking over at Gareth, “dude, my hair is a fucking disaster. There’s no helping that!”

Gareth crosses his arms with a deadpan look, “Ed, I think you’re overreacting a little. It’s just a little piece of gum! It’s not even that far in your hair, maybe this can be a little-“

“Don’t say it!”

“-trim”

He glares at him, “a little trim? This piece of shit is near my goddamn neck, Gare! I CAN FEEL IT! That fucking asshole did it on purpose too, I just know it!”

There’s a little five foot asshole out in the world, that’s his number one enemy now. Slapping him on the back with a “great show, my man!” Before walking away with a snicker. At the moment he didn’t think anything of it, too busy focusing on the fans around him trying to get his attention. His adrenaline and energy buzzing too much to realize something off with that guy.

He didn’t even notice it, it was a goddamn fan to point it out. Because they felt it when they took a picture together.

See? Worst day ever.

Right now they’re in the bus already moving onto the next city for the next concert. He isn’t even sure what’s the next one, all he knows is his hair has fucking gum in it and it’s the worst thing to ever happen to him.

“I still think you’re overreacting just a little, look, maybe there’s a way to get it out without cutting anything. We just have to find a place, there’s a two day break before the next concert. Ok?” Gareth pulls his hands away from his face, “Chris even told our driver to be on the lookout for places already.”

Sighing, he leans back and looks at his best friend, “I guess you’re right”

“I’m always right, dude.”

Rolling his eyes, he gets up and decides to take a nap face down because there’s no way he’s making it worse and getting stuck to his sheets.

Okay so, he’s overreacting a little bit. But he’s been growing his hair out for years now. It’s the perfect length and just wild enough that everyone knows him just by the hair.

It’s his thing, okay?!

A phone is slammed down and he flinches before looking towards the front, “did the phone kill your dog? Or was that-“

Robin whipped her head around a pinched look on her face, “that was goddamn Fran asking for a perm, I swear to god I don’t know how you deal with her! She actually had the nerve to praise you about letting her go so long without paying! She’s scheduled for Friday, because and I quote ‘my hair is straight as a needle’ she doesn’t do shit with her hair, Steve!”

He shakes his head and grabs his water before walking towards her, “Truthfully? I kinda zone out when I’m working on her hair.”

Robin blinked at him before she burst out laughing.

Being one of the only hair salons in their tiny town has some benefits, which is taking some customers that only pay after ranking up to nearly $300. That and he can hire anyone he wants and having a crew of just their friends is a perfect way to deal with the few crazy customers they get.

Oh, and he gets to hang out with them all the time while doing something he actually loves.

When he decided to go to cosmetology school instead of whatever place his dad wanted, he didn’t think he’d end up here. Honestly. His mom told him there was a chance it would go no where, that it’ll just be another thing to add to his list of hobbies.

Baseball, basketball, swimming, drawing and lastly cutting hair.

According to his dad, all of that was pointless. Well, not basketball. To his mom, it just made him look good for future partners. Thankfully their opinions don’t matter to him much anymore, they’re long gone from this tiny town and he’s twenty five now.

Really, he doesn’t need their support or opinions anymore.

“Woah! Dingus come here!” Robin calls out without needing to, the shop is small and he’s just at his station, “there’s your dorky kids jumping around like actual kids”

Rolling his eyes, he stands next to her to find that; yes across the street is the kids- now teenagers jumping around some parked bus. He can’t quite make out what’s on the bus, his vision is shit with letters even with his contacts in. Whatever they’re excited about is probably related to their dragons game.

So definitely nothing he’d understand. Right?

His attention is drawn away from the teens because of the door opening, he spins around with a smile already on his face. “Hello, do you have an appointment today?”

Standing half way in the door is a tiny blonde with a high pony tail and clearly not from around here. He pretty much knows everyone in Hawkins, or at least he knows everyone that comes into his shop.

This person definitely hasn’t been in before, she is adorable though. Totally Robin’s type, actually. Glancing at his best friend, and yep, there’s already hearts in her eyes.

“Hi! No, actually I wanted to see if you did have any openings?” Tiny Blonde smiles and he can see her glance at Robin, “either of you?”

If he could, he’d totally leave Robin to handle this by herself. It’d be pay back for when she ditched him at the bar a few weeks ago, but he’s not that petty. “Technically she can’t cut or color anyone’s hair, but I’m free later. I got a person coming in like twenty minutes. What did you-“

“Actually, it’s for a friend of mine!” She shakes her head and pulls her phone out, glancing at it and typing something quickly before looking back at him, “Can you do like a quick, consult maybe? Not like now, but later?”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin nod her head as if she’s the one going to do it. Rolling his eyes he smiles and moves to the appointment book, taking a quick glance he can technically squeeze in something. “Just a consult?”

“Maybe a trim if all goes well, we could even come in tomorrow if you can’t today. We did just get into town, I’m sure my friend will understand if you can’t” her phone beeps and he can’t tell but it seems like she’s grimacing at whatever was sent, “or maybe you know another place?”

Technically he could send them somewhere else, but he’s curious plus from the glare he can feel from Robin- he glances at her and yep, she’s glaring a hole in his head.

He doesn’t need to ask her that she wants this pretty blonde to come back.

“Nah, you can come back at four. We can chat and figure out what needs or can be done.“ he smiles at her before handing over an appointment card, “I’m Steve, by the way. That’s Robin”

She takes the card with a smile, “Oh! I’m Chrissy, you don’t realize how much this will make my friend’s day. We’ll see you then, it’ll just be you two, right?”

“Yep! See you in a few hours!” Chrissy flashed a bright smile at him then Robin before opening the door and walking away.

He doesn’t even bother looking towards Robin to tell her, “You’ve got it bad”

There’s a loud shriek and then a laugh as Chrissy walks away. She smiles before looking down at her phone to text the good news.

‘Best news of your life right now, four o’clock. Dummy’

‘THANK YOU ❤️🖤’

It’s inching closer and closer to four and Steve isn’t sure if Chrissy just forgot or that her friend decided it wasn’t worth it. Either way, he’s going to clean up now because it’s been a long day and all he wants now is to drink some wine while relaxing on his couch.

He’s listening to Robin vent from across the salon, while cleaning the mirrors. “Despite how pretty she is, if they don’t show up soon I’m closing this place up!”

“It’s not even officially four yet, Robs.” He laughs and turns away from his mirror to clean the chair, “we have like five minutes before we give up on it.”

Robin let’s out a groan, spinning around to point at him with a glare, “It’s Friday night and I have plans, Steven!”

“I hope these plans don’t involve me, Robin. I have to be in here at fucking eight in the morning, I’d like to get at least five hours of sleep” he glares over at her, “the last time we went out and I had to work in the morning, I almost didn’t make it in”

Because of Robin’s loud laughter he nearly misses the door opening, he bounces up with a smile, “hi can I- Chrissy!”

Standing by the front desk is of course, Chrissy along with her is a tall guy with long wild curls standing next to her. He has a pair of sunglasses on and his hands shoved into the leather jacket he has on.

“Hi guys, sorry we didn’t get here sooner there was a crowd and this one couldn’t get passed it withou- ow! Eddie!” She glared at the man, Eddie apparently, and rubbing her arm.

It’s confusing but he’s not going to question it, his relationship with Robin is weird, probably weirder actually. So instead of questioning that he moves closer, “it’s fine, we were just cleaning up real quick. We said just a consult right or did you figure out what you wanted?”

Wordlessly, the two of a conversation right there. Hand movements, head nods and shakes before there’s a bright satisfied smile on Chrissy’s face appears. Eddie looks not upset per-say but definitely like he lost whatever was said in their conversation.

“Yep! He’ll do a trim, but there’s a little problem. You see, someone decided to put gum on his back and-”

Robin’s laughing again while he’s just horrified for Eddie. He can’t help but feel bad for the hair, well, maybe Eddie too. But he hasn’t said a word to them yet, still standing there with his glasses on and now crossing his arms with what looks like a pout on his face. Chrissy’s still talking about the gum and how it’s ruined Eddie’s day and they couldn’t figure out any other way to get it out.

He shakes his head, moving towards his chair and patting it, “well, I can’t figure anything out until you’re sitting in the chair and I get a closer look at the hair”

Eddie looks between the chair and Chrissy, before moving towards him and sitting in the chair. Sunglasses still on his face, a pout very much there as well. Up close, his hair is even more wild than he originally thought. The curls are a mess, that’s clear as he sticks his hand to figure out how much the gum is stuck.

It’s not too terrible, definitely bad but not enough where if he does cut it out, the hair wouldn’t be much different.

There is however, the fact that this guy is clearly not taking proper care of his hair. For as wild as it is, the curls are frizzy and not defined.

“Good news, I could cut the gum out and you’re hair won’t lose too much length or I could also try getting it out using some oil without taking scissors to your hair.”

“And the bad news?”

“You’re not taking proper care of your hair, these curls could be so much more”

He hears Chrissy let out a giggle and Robin’s definitely laughing with her, but his gaze is on Eddie, who’s mouth drops and nearly rips the glasses off to show that his eyes are wide with shock.

Steve can’t help himself, he smiles and lets his own little giggle out.

Eddie looks absolutely ridiculous and Steve might know him, like, at all. But he’s definitely someone he’d like to know eventually, being this dramatic over a little comment? That’s someone worth knowing, he thinks.

———

Ending it there lol.

Wanna know what’s funny? I started this to get out of my writers block and ended up getting it WITH THIS.

So I used wip wednesdays/weekends to push myself along and finally after also talking with @i-less-than-three-you & @strangersteddierthings I’ve decided to make this a two parter! I get to share what I already wrote AND give myself a way to write them actually getting together.

I also wanna shout out @artiststarme for helping me a bit too! They gave me a few suggestions and helped out so thank you to all three of them 🩷 you all are amazing and I love you!!

Tag list! (If you’d like to be added let me know)

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you

@yikes-a-bee @sc00ps-ahoy @geekymagicalpotato @thesuninyaface @penny00dreadful

PS: if you made it this far you get to know that the thing with someone not paying until the bill is up to $300 is a true fucking story. There’s a lady that comes into my work (a hair salon btw) and gets away with coming in for a hair wash or color or perms and doesn’t pay! Idk why my boss continues letting her do this but she does 🤷‍♀️

[drewharrisonwriter]

Friends Without Benefits

Status: One Shot, Complete

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

Word Count: 10.5k words

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

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

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

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

It started with a rejection email.

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

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

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

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

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

That was a lie.

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

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

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

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

An eviction notice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her phone buzzed on the cushion beside her.

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

Studio Callback - Screenwriting Internship.

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

The next day…

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

But this time, it wasn’t her turn.

It was him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smirked. “I’m always in trouble.”

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

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

“Good enough for what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The kind that make people uncomfortable.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inside the meeting room…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” the man said coldly. “I’m not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Back in the waiting room…

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, I’m such a screw-up.

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

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

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

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

She snorted. “That bad?”

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

She blinked, surprised. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

He shrugged. “Yeah, that.”

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

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

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

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

“Vodka, Negroni... surprise me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

“You said it, not me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She didn’t answer, watching him with curiosity.

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

“You’re talking about the scandal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I do. I’m always right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dieter let out a loud bark of laughter, nearly doubling over. “Holy shit... you’re a freak. A true freak.”

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Oh no, it’s definitely not a bad thing,” he said, still chuckling as he reached over to refill her glass. “I’ve met some freaks in my time, but this? This is different. I like it.”

She eyed the freshly poured drink, tilting her head. “Not sure if I should feel good about that comment.”

Dieter grinned, clinking his glass against hers. “You should. Trust me.”

They both chuckled, the easy, playful energy between them lightening the mood even more. But then Dieter leaned back, giving her an amused look. “You know, I actually know Willem.”

Her eyes widened, her curiosity piqued. “No way. You know him?”

Dieter nodded, taking a slow sip. “Yeah. Great guy. Not as intense as his characters would make you think. Really down to earth. Freaky in his own way, sure, but... I get it. I guess I see what you see in him.”

She smiled, leaning back. “Well, that’s comforting.”

Then she paused, glancing down at her drink before adding, “I actually met him once. Worked as an assistant on a theater production he starred in a couple of years ago.”

Dieter’s eyes lit up. “No way. Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” she said, nodding. “It was this small indie thing in New York. I wasn’t his assistant or anything, just part of the general crew, but I did get to work around him a bit. He’s... different, in a good way.”

Dieter leaned forward, intrigued. “Okay, now you’ve really got my attention. You’ve done PA work before?”

She shook her head, swirling the ice in her glass. “Not really. That was more of a part-time gig while I was in school. I applied for a real PA job a few years back, but it didn’t exactly go well.”

Dieter’s brow furrowed. “What happened?”

She sighed, her smirk fading as she stared down at her drink. “Well, I got all the way through the interviews, and then the celebrity—someone old-school—told me I was too chubby to work for them. Said I wouldn’t look good in photographs.”

Dieter’s face immediately twisted into a mix of shock and disgust. “Wait, what? Are you kidding me?”

“Nope,” she said, the bitterness in her voice barely masked by the nonchalance she was trying to project. “I didn’t even bother applying for PA jobs after that. Figured it wasn’t worth the hassle.”

Dieter shook his head, clearly appalled. “That’s... Jesus. I mean, I get that people in this industry are eccentric as hell, but that’s way too much. Who the hell cares what you look like in photos? You’re supposed to be doing a job, not starring in the damn pictures.”

She shrugged, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, well, some people care. Guess I wasn’t the image they wanted.”

Dieter looked at her, his expression softening with empathy. “That’s seriously messed up. I’m sorry you went through that.”

She waved him off, smiling more genuinely this time. “It’s fine. Honestly, it was a while ago. I just stuck to writing and waitressing after that.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,” Dieter said, leaning forward, “that guy was a complete idiot. You’d make a damn good PA.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Thanks. But I think I’m done with that world.”

Dieter studied her for a moment, then raised his glass in a small toast. “Well, here’s to not being the kind of asshole who judges people by how they look in photos.”

She clinked her glass against his, smiling again. “I’ll drink to that.”

The conversation lingered in the air after their laughter died down, a comfortable silence settling over them. She leaned back against the couch, her gaze drifting to the massive windows overlooking the city, the skyline glittering like a distant dream.

“Gotta say,” she began, her voice soft but still playful, “this penthouse is... something else. It’s almost too perfect, though. Feels more like a set than a home.”

Dieter glanced around the room, smirking faintly. “Yeah, that’s because it’s not home.”

She raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “It’s not?”

He shook his head, swirling the last of his drink. “Nah. It’s just a place I own. I use it for... all the shit you probably hear about in the tabloids.”

She snorted, leaning in. “You mean the orgies and sex scandals?”

“Pretty much.” Dieter chuckled, but there was something more behind the laughter. His expression softened as he set the glass down on the table. “It’s not where I live. My real home is out in Sherman Oaks.”

She tilted her head, surprised. “Sherman Oaks?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “It’s an actual house. Big, built for a family, but too large for just me. I don’t bring anyone there. Not my... conquests, not my parties. Just me. I paint there, you know? I’ve got this studio in the back, and when the world gets too loud, that’s where I go. It’s the only place I feel... I don’t know, settled.”

Her eyes softened as she listened. She hadn’t expected this level of honesty from him, but the vulnerability in his voice was unmistakable. “That sounds... nice, actually. Quiet.”

“It is,” he agreed, his gaze distant, as if he could picture the house in his mind. “But the silence can get too loud sometimes. Especially now that I’m older. That’s when I come back here. The penthouse. To drown it out.”

She frowned slightly, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass. “The silence?”

Dieter nodded, exhaling softly. “Yeah. You wouldn’t think silence could be so damn loud, but it is. Especially when you’re used to everything being... chaotic.”

She didn’t respond immediately, just watched him, the weight of his words sinking in. There was a loneliness there, one that no amount of parties, conquests, or tabloid headlines could fill. It wasn’t just about being alone—it was about being seen. About finding a place where the chaos didn’t define him.

She took a breath, her tone gentle but sure. “You don’t strike me as someone who likes the noise. Not really.”

Dieter blinked, turning his gaze back to her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, people see the chaos, the headlines, the scandals. But I don’t think that’s really you.” She paused, her voice steady. “You’ve got a whole world inside you that no one bothers to look at. You’re not just the guy who parties and ends up in the tabloids. You’re more than that.”

His eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe, or recognition. He opened his mouth to say something, but she continued before he could.

“They don’t see the parts of you that matter. The parts that create, that make something out of all this mess. The fact that you’ve got a studio and you paint—that tells me a lot. You’re more than just an actor, Dieter. You’re an artist. And not because you say so, but because you are.”

For a moment, Dieter just stared at her, as if her words had landed somewhere deeper than he’d expected. She was looking at him like no one had in years. Not like a star, not like the scandalized mess the world saw. She saw him. The real him.

His throat tightened, and suddenly, the air felt heavier. “You really think that?”

“I know it,” she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. “You’re not just memorizing lines. You’re putting something into the world that most people don’t even take the time to understand. But that doesn’t mean it’s not real. It’s real, Dieter. And it matters.”

He blinked, the familiar burn of tears stinging behind his eyes. It was strange—he hadn’t felt this exposed in so long. The vulnerability, the rawness of being seen for more than just the surface.

A tear slipped down his cheek, slow and steady. He swiped at it quickly, but another followed. It wasn’t a sobbing mess, no dramatic breakdown. Just a quiet release, like the weight of everything he’d been carrying finally had somewhere to go.

“Damn,” he muttered, laughing softly through the tears. “You’re really messing me up here.”

She smiled, nudging him gently with her elbow. “You needed to hear it.”

He wiped his eyes, still grinning despite the tears. “Guess I did.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. The silence between them wasn’t heavy or awkward. It was comfortable, filled with an understanding that went deeper than words. In the quiet of the penthouse, with the city lights twinkling in the background, Dieter felt something he hadn’t in a long time.

Peace.

But of course, Dieter couldn’t let the moment just sit there. He leaned over slightly, raising an eyebrow as a mischievous grin spread across his face. “So... is this the part where we kiss?”

She burst out laughing, her head falling back as she clutched her sides. “Oh my God, Dieter, you’re such an ass.”

For the first time in a long time, Dieter didn’t feel even a twinge of offense at being laughed at. In fact, her reaction made him laugh, too—a deep, real laugh that didn’t feel performative. It was just them, laughing like idiots in the middle of a moment that could’ve been serious, but wasn’t.

He shrugged, grinning. “Hey, had to shoot my shot.”

She shook her head, still giggling as she nudged him. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me,” he teased.

“Debatable,” she shot back, smirking. “But that was not the move, Bravo.”

He threw his hands up in mock surrender, still laughing. “Alright, alright, no kiss. Got it.”

She rolled her eyes, the amusement still lingering in her expression. “Seriously, though. You’re an ass.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Dieter said, smirking. But beneath the joking, there was a warmth in his eyes, a softness that hadn’t been there before. He liked this—being around someone who could take his nonsense and throw it right back at him, without missing a beat.

–

They had been hanging out for days—Dieter laying low like his team had asked, and her finding herself more and more wrapped up in his world. It was easy with him. The lazy mornings that bled into afternoons, the spontaneous outings, the hours spent talking about nothing and everything. It was like living in a bubble, where the real world and all its mess didn’t exist.

But it couldn’t last forever.

They were lounging in his penthouse, another aimless afternoon with the TV buzzing in the background, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

“So,” Dieter began, his tone casual, but there was an edge of hesitation in it. “I’ve been thinking...”

She looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. That sounds dangerous.”

He chuckled, but there was a nervousness in his smile. “No, I mean... I’ve been thinking about you. Us, I guess.”

She frowned slightly, sitting up a bit straighter. “What do you mean?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze for a moment. “I think I... I really like you. And I want to stay friends, you know? If you’re cool with it.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Of course he liked her—they got along too well not to. But she knew what had to happen next.

She swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “I don’t think we can keep doing this.”

Dieter’s face fell, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Wait, what? Why not?”

“I can’t afford to stay in LA anymore,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I’m going home. To my mom’s and stepdad’s. The diner job just doesn’t cover rent or utilities, and figuring things out in this city isn’t really feasible for me right now.”

Dieter stared at her, the words slowly sinking in. His expression shifted from confusion to something deeper—sadness, maybe even panic. “You’re... leaving?”

She nodded, trying to keep it together. “Yeah. I’ve got no choice.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at her like she’d just ripped the floor out from under him. Then, true to form, Dieter went into full dramatic mode.

“Are you serious?” he groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Like, ever.”

She laughed, despite herself. “Dieter, stop.”

“No, seriously,” he continued, flopping onto the couch like a petulant child. “You’re leaving me to fend for myself in this godforsaken city, and for what? Your mom’s house in the middle of nowhere? This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

She rolled her eyes, amused but touched by how much this seemed to affect him. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Where’s your loyalty?” he muttered dramatically. “I thought we were in this together.”

She snorted. “I didn’t realize hanging out with you was a lifelong commitment.”

Dieter sat up suddenly, his eyes lighting up as if he’d just had the greatest idea of all time. “Wait a second...”

She eyed him warily. “What?”

“You still need a job, right?”

Her eyebrow arched. “...Yes?”

“I still need a PA,” he said, the excitement building in his voice. “My team hasn’t found anyone, and let’s face it—they’re probably going to stick me with some lifeless corporate robot.”

She blinked, not expecting this. “Wait, are you offering me a job?”

“Hell yes, I am,” he said, grinning like a kid with a new toy. “You’d be perfect. I mean, you know me. You get me. And you’re already here half the time anyway. Why not make it official?”

She hesitated, her mind racing. “I don’t know, Dieter. It feels like... I don’t know, like you’re just offering it because you feel bad.”

He shook his head, his expression softening. “No, I’m offering it because I need you. And not in a weird way, okay? I mean, yeah, it’s a job, but it’s also more than that. I trust you. And I don’t trust a lot of people.”

She bit her lip, still uncertain. “Yeah, but it comes with a paycheck, right? That’s gonna make me feel... really dirty.”

Dieter laughed, leaning back into the couch. “Oh, come on. It’s a legit offer. And I’m paying you well, so you’ll get used to feeling dirty real quick.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“Seriously,” he continued, his tone softening again. “Think about it. It’s not charity. It’s not a handout. I really need your company, and I think you need this too.”

She exhaled, staring at him for a moment. “I’ll... think about it.”

A few days later, she was back at the penthouse, this time with Dieter’s manager, his lawyer, and Dieter himself, all sitting around the sleek kitchen island. It felt surreal.

The manager went over the details of the contract, but it was hard to focus on the specifics when her mind was spinning with how fast everything was happening.

“And, of course,” the manager added sternly, “we have to include the no-fucking clause. If you two get involved, it’s not only grounds for termination but also blacklisting.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, looking slightly offended. “Seriously? That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

She snorted, waving it off. “It’s fine, Bravo. I don’t think you’d want to fuck me anyway.”

He frowned, almost hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The manager chuckled, shaking his head. “He fucks anything that moves.”

She furrowed her brows briefly, her face showing a flash of disgust at the comment, but she kept her mouth shut. This wasn’t the time to start an argument with his team. Still, she couldn’t shake the sour taste the comment left in her mouth.

Dieter noticed her reaction and shot his manager a look, but the moment passed quickly as the lawyer handed her the contract to sign.

Once the papers were signed, it was official. She was now Dieter Bravo’s new assistant.

After the contract signing, they were back in the quiet of the penthouse. She stretched her arms out, feeling a mixture of excitement and disbelief at the day’s events. Dieter leaned against the counter, still processing it all too, and for a moment, the two of them just stood there in silence.

Then she clapped her hands together, breaking the moment. “Okay, Bravo, I’m treating you to dinner.”

Dieter blinked, confusion crossing his face. “Wait, what? You’re treating me?”

She grinned, nodding. “Yeah, to celebrate. You know, new job and all.”

He hesitated, raising an eyebrow. “You just signed a contract. You shouldn’t be spending money on me.”

She waved him off, rolling her eyes. “Take a chill pill. I just landed a sick new job with a really dirty paycheck. I’m excited, let me have this.”

Dieter chuckled, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “I’ve taken way too many pills in my life. Not sure I remember which one the chill pill is.”

She burst out laughing, grabbing her jacket. “Well, then this will be the antidote. C’mon, we’re getting Five Guys.”

Dieter’s grin grew wider, his eyes lighting up. “Damn, baby, you know I can’t say no to Five Guys.”

She shot him a smirk. “Then let’s go.”

They drove in Dieter’s car, windows heavily tinted, cruising through the LA streets as the sun dipped below the skyline. They grabbed their order from the drive-thru window and found an empty parking lot, parking under the dim glow of a streetlight.

Dieter reclined his seat all the way back, pushing the front seats to give them more space to lounge. She did the same, their legs stretched out as they unwrapped their burgers.

“So,” he mumbled around a mouthful of fries, “what now?”

She shrugged, her voice muffled as she stuffed more fries into her mouth. “Idunno.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a moment, the radio playing softly in the background, the quiet hum of the city far off in the distance.

Dieter glanced at her sideways, studying her face. “You seem a little... off.”

She paused mid-chew, looking at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, biting into his burger. “I dunno. Just felt like something’s been bugging you since we left the penthouse.”

She exhaled, setting her burger down, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Well... your manager pissed me off. Big time.”

Dieter stopped chewing, his eyes widening a little. “What? Why?”

“That comment he made,” she said, rolling her eyes, “about you humping everything that moves. It was gross. And unnecessary.”

Dieter’s face reddened, the blush creeping up his neck as he rubbed at it, a little embarrassed. “Yeah, uh... that’s just how he is.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “That doesn’t make it okay.”

He chuckled awkwardly, setting his burger down. “I mean, he wasn’t wrong. You’ve heard the stories, read the articles, right?”

She stared at him for a beat, then sighed. She knew he wasn’t trying to defend his manager, and in a way, she found that endearing—his loyalty to people even after everything they’d said about him. All the rumors, the scandals, the affairs. But she tucked that thought away for another time.

“That’s not the point,” she said, shaking her head. “As someone who works with you, the first thing your manager should be doing is protecting you—even from your own team.”

Dieter blinked, her words hitting harder than he expected. He felt something crack open in his chest. She wasn’t wrong. And hearing her say it so plainly made him realize just how much he’d let slide because of loyalty. Because of fear.

He smiled softly, biting into his burger, his voice quiet. “Thanks for saying that.”

She shrugged, offering him a small smile in return. “It’s true.”

Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she leaned over, wiggling her eyebrows. “Besides, you haven’t tried to fuck me yet, so I don’t think what your manager said was true.”

Dieter choked on his soda, laughing and coughing at the same time. “Jesus Christ,” he wheezed, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

She grinned, leaning back into her seat. “What? Am I not fuckable enough for Dieter Bravo?”

He immediately shook his head, his voice firm. “No, baby–you’re...fuck– you’re hot. Like, really hot. And I’m an idiot for not jumping you the second I met you.”

She snorted, clearly amused. “But?”

Dieter sighed, running a hand through his hair, his voice quieter but more grounded now. “Look, if we hadn’t had that first conversation, that night in the waiting room... I probably would’ve tried to sleep with you.”

She gasped dramatically, her eyes widening in mock horror. “Excuse me? What made you think I’d even want to sleep with you?”

Dieter burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Oh, c’mon, I’ve got ways. If I really wanted to, I could have charmed you into it.”

She snorted, shoving another fry into her mouth. “Yeah, right. You can’t charm your way into everyone’s bed, Bravo.”

Dieter stared at her, deadpan, raising an eyebrow. “Uh... yes, I can.”

They both broke into laughter, the moment light but laced with a shared understanding. Once their laughter died down, he leaned back, the humor fading slightly as he spoke again, this time more serious.

“But seriously,” he continued, his voice softer now, “I didn’t want to cross that line with you. Because... you’re different.”

She glanced at him, curious now, the playful energy between them simmering down as he opened up.

“I’m a messy person,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the steering wheel, fingers idly tracing the edges. “In every sense of the word. My life, my relationships—they don’t end well. And I’ve ruined... too many things that mattered. I can’t ruin this. I won’t.”

She tilted her head, watching him closely. “Why do you think it would ruin things?”

He took a deep breath, the vulnerability flickering in his eyes as he finally met her gaze. “Because when I sleep with someone, I lose track of... what’s real and what’s not. It always starts out fine, but I mess things up. I make it complicated, and then it all falls apart. And I don’t want that to happen with you.”

She studied him for a moment, seeing the weight behind his words, the sincerity he rarely showed to anyone. This wasn’t the over-the-top, scandal-filled Dieter Bravo the world knew. This was a man who was genuinely afraid of ruining something good.

“Wow,” she muttered, trying to break the heaviness. “So you’re saying I was basically a goner if we hadn’t talked that first night?”

He chuckled, giving her a teasing grin. “Oh, absolutely.”

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You really are full of yourself.”

“No, I’m just honest,” he said with a playful smirk. “But really, I don’t want to just fuck this up. You get me, more than anyone has in a long time. And I don’t want to lose that because I was... impulsive.”

She looked at him for a long moment, their earlier banter giving way to something deeper. It was clear that he meant every word, and it made sense in a way she hadn’t expected. Dieter Bravo might have been a disaster in relationships, but he was choosing not to be a disaster with her. And that meant something.

“Well,” she said, her smile returning as she reached for another fry, “that’s good to know. I mean, you’re still a complete disaster, but you’re my kind of disaster.”

Dieter’s grin widened, the tension finally easing as he leaned back in his seat. “I’ll take it.”

She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then added with a smirk, “Besides, now I’m legally being paid to not fuck you.”

He laughed, throwing his head back in genuine amusement. “And I’m legally paying you to not fuck me.”

She nodded sagely. “Sounds like a pretty sweet deal if you ask me.”

Dieter chuckled, the heaviness of the earlier conversation replaced by their usual playful energy. “Yeah, it’s working out pretty well so far.”

They both sat there, comfortable in the aftermath of the conversation, knowing that while the chemistry between them was undeniable, the friendship was what mattered most. And neither of them was willing to risk it, even if they joked about it.

They sat in the car, the remnants of their Five Guys feast scattered on the console between them. The night had slipped into a comfortable quiet, the kind that came from hours of laughter, honest conversation, and greasy burgers. Dieter stretched, glancing over at her with a lazy grin.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked, wiping his hands on a napkin. “You heading home now?”

She nodded, finishing the last of her fries. “Yeah. Gotta pack up my stuff and get ready for the big move.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Right. Moving in with me. Never thought I’d reach this point in my life where a woman’s moving in with me... and I legally can’t fuck her.”

She snorted, shaking her head as she leaned back into her seat. “Welcome to adulthood, Bravo. Full of responsibilities and boundaries.”

Dieter’s grin widened, leaning a little closer. “So, about this moving in thing—are you planning on, like, wearing layers of clothing at all times? Because I don’t need to make this harder for myself than it already is.”

She shot him a look, deadpan. “Harder for yourself?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know what I mean.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face. “Listen, I promise to be fully covered in the ugliest, most unflattering pajamas you’ve ever seen. Think, like, thermal underwear, oversized sweaters, maybe a balaclava if I’m feeling extra considerate.”

Dieter threw his head back laughing, slapping the dashboard. “Jesus Christ, I don’t know if I should be grateful or terrified.”

“Both,” she said with a smirk, grabbing the last fry from the bag and popping it into her mouth.

Dieter leaned back, sighing contentedly. “I still can’t believe it though. I’m actually gonna live with a woman. And she’s not some wild fling, but an assistant I’m paying not to fuck. Talk about a plot twist.”

She laughed, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Well, you better get used to it. I’ll be back in the morning with all my crap.”

Dieter grinned, clearly amused by the whole situation. “Promise?”

“Promise,” she said, flashing him a smile. “Bright and early. So you better get your beauty sleep.”

He chuckled, looking at her fondly. “I’ll try.”

She reached for the door handle, pausing for a moment before looking back at him, her tone soft but teasing. “Try not to miss me too much tonight, alright?”

Dieter winked. “No promises.”

She stepped out of the car, waving as she walked toward her building. “See you tomorrow, Bravo.”

He watched her go, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah,” he muttered under his breath, leaning back into the seat. “See you tomorrow.”

[rafeverse]

your daddy's got a gun

CW: mentions of a gun, overprotective dad!rafe

AN: this was the first rafe fic i wrote after not writing anything for 2 years and i fucking hate it LMAO but since it was the birth of the dad!rafe au, I'm not going to delete it

the day rafe had been dreading for months now had finally come. mia, your 17 year old daughter, was going to her junior prom. her first high school dance.

when mia was an underclassmen, she’d had countless junior and senior boys try to take her to the prom, but her dad shut all of that down, much to his daughter’s dismay. he had insisted she was too young and could go once she was old enough. he turned a deaf ear to all of her begging and pleading.

now, however, she was old enough to attend and quickly let him know that she was going whether he liked it or not. when he tried to shut her down, y/n would come to her defense and remind him that he “said she could go when she reached 11th grade!”

so there he sat, scrolling on his phone, on the soft, expensive, white sectional he and his wife had picked out when they first moved into their extravagant home (nothing could be simple with rafe). he decided to let you take mia around town to her hair and makeup appointments, while he sat at home and made a few phone calls and finished some paperwork.

he smiled when the door opened and he heard the most beautiful sound in the world- the sound of his girls laughing and talking.

y/n quickly ‘shushed’ mia and told her to wait as she ran ahead of her into the living room where she knew rafe would be.

“hey baby.” he greeted his wife.

“hello, my love.” y/n smiled.

“where’s my other girl?” rafe tried looking around his wife for his precious daughter, but couldn’t see her.

“hmm, are you sure you’re ready to see her, rafe? you might need to sit down.” y/n said loudly, causing their daughter to giggle.

“positive.”

“okay, sit down and close your eyes!!” once rafe was seated, y/n signaled for their daughter to come into the room.

“okay dad, you can open your eyes.” rafe quickly opened his eyes and gasped when he saw her. she wore a beautiful, long, pink dress and her hair had been curled. he couldn’t believe his eyes. his baby girl. his daughter was old enough to go to the prom.

“sweetheart, you look so beautiful.” rafe engulfed the girl into a bear hug, only pulling away when she pushed him off of her in fear that he would ruin her makeup or wrinkle her dress.

“thank you, dad.” she smiled back at him. y/n couldn’t help but notice how much the young girl favored her father. they had the same smile, eyes, and nose.

the sweet moment was interrupted by an alarm going off, telling y/n that they had to get mia to the spot where she’d be taking her pictures.

“oh! guys! come on, we need to get downtown so we can get your pictures done, mia! will you text jack and let him know we’re leaving the house now?” y/n scrambled to get everything she needed from the house before they took off again.

while she was scrambling, rafe was still. jack? who the fuck is jack? he stood, racking his brain for any recollection of this jack.

y/n noticed his stillness and his stare, and immediately knew what was on his mind.

“rafe, they’ve gone to school together forever. you know him. he’s alyssa and thomas’ son, remember? from the country club? i think he’s actually a waiter there. anyways, come on or we’ll be late.” y/n quickly explained as she walked towards the door.

however, this still didn’t really make rafe feel any better. for a moment, he felt himself seep back into his old ways, getting a bit angry that his wife would just let mia go to the dance with someone he barely even knew.

“yeah, babe, i’m coming. just let me grab my jacket.” rafe walked quickly to their shared bedroom and, when he was sure his wife was out of the house, he opened up his safe and pulled out his trusty 9MM. he put the gun in his waistband and threw his jacket on. he didn’t know this jack, and he wanted to be prepared in case the boy tried anything. plus, he could easily flash it if he felt jack getting too cocky.

mia: DAD!!!

mia: COME ON!!!

mia: WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGG

he was pulled out of his thoughts by his dinging phone. he rolled his eyes at the texts and put his phone back in his pocket before heading out the door.

-

when they arrived at the spot for pictures, jack and his family were already there waiting. jack walked up to the truck as rafe was putting it in park. he opened the door for mia and helped her out of the tall vehicle.

“wow, you look…you look beautiful, mia.” jack stammered and mia blushed. rafe rolled his eyes at the interaction and y/n noticed, slapping him on the arm and warning him to “be nice.”

when jack was sure mia was good to go, he went to open the door for y/n, only to be met by a larger, stronger rafe cameron.

“nope, i’ve got it, bud.” now it was time for y/n and mia to roll their eyes.

“dad,” mia groaned as she crossed her arms over her chest.

rafe opened the door and helped his wife out of the truck. as they walked to the photographer and jack’s family, rafe pulled jack back so the two could walk a bit behind the girls and talk.

“listen, jack. i don’t know what your intentions are for my daughter and honestly, i really don’t give a fuck. what i do know, is that if you even so much as think about laying a finger on her, it will be the last thing you ever do.” rafe paused and lifted up his shirt a bit, revealing the handle of the gun that was tucked away in his waistband. “are we clear?”

jack swallowed thickly and let out a shaky “y-yes sir.” rafe patted him on the back, smirking as he went to catch up with his wife.

-

“come on, you two! get closer together.” the photographer called out to the couple.

“yeah jack, you’re acting like you barely even know mia! scooch closer to her, son! put your arm around her waist.” jack’s mom directed her son.

jack froze as he made eye contact with mia’s father. rafe stood beside his wife and stared at the boy, coldly, tapping his finger on the grip of the pistol that only he and jack knew was there.

“i-i-um. yeah, okay.” jack shook his head and carefully moved maybe a millimeter closer to mia. when they wrapped up pictures, mia pulled jack aside as their parents were conversing with the photographer.

“dude, what the hell is going on with you? you’re acting so weird.” mia questioned jack as she had picked up on his odd behavior.

when he looked up, he immediately made eye contact with rafe. “it’s-uh-it’s nothing. i guess i’m just a bit nervous because you look so pretty.” jack gulped and mia rolled her eyes.

“jack, seriously, what’s really wrong?” mia huffed.

“um,” he knew he couldn’t win against her, she’d just keep pressing the issue until she got the answer she wanted. (her mother would tell her she was just like her father when she did this.) “mia, your, um, your daddy’s gotagun.” he said the last few words so quickly and quietly that she barely even heard him.

“my dad what?”

“your daddy’s got a gun.”

mia’s eyes widened before an annoyed look covered her face as she let out a groan. she turned to look at her father, who was already looking at her, smirking proudly.

[cindylouwhooo]

Chapter Three

Gigi’s POV

A pounding headache and a dry throat greet me with the morning sun, as I struggle to get out of bed. It must be the thirtieth minute of my daily aimless scrolling through Twitter and Instagram, and I find myself looking for the negative comments. In my head, I’m fully aware how wrong it is, how I’m not supposed to give into the haters, how I’m supposed to close my eyes and move on with my life.

But some hopeless, insane part of me believes that every negative thing that I come across social media will light that fire that’s long put out inside me—that I’ll take the bait and get into the studio, write the greatest album of all time and be rid of all the weight of what my name brings me.

Of course, by the reach of the hour, my brain has been convinced that my previous albums were a pile of shit and that I’ll never be able to write anything in my life, ever again.

The phone drops from my hand and I dig my body further into the mattress, letting the peace and comfort of my bed convince me into getting some more sleep. I dream of nothing, and I wake up realising that I might have dreamed of my future career.

~ ~ ~

Lando’s POV

“Please.”

“I can’t help you.”

“Yes you can.”

“I absolutely cannot. Kika will kill me and then break up with me. And I can’t have that.”

I let out the longest sigh as I walk beside Gasly. Journalists, photographers, engineers and other drivers walk past us, looking, whispering. Not that I care. I couldn’t even if I tried.

“Fine, just give me Kika’s number and I’ll ask her.”

After glaring at me for mentioning his girlfriend’s name, he begrudgingly pulls out his phone and brings it to my face. I scramble to grab mine from the pocket of my sweats and hastily tap down Kika’s number.

“I’m choosing her contact name.” He demands, but I’m only half listening—too focused on trying to transfer the numbers correctly from his phone to my contacts.

She’s ethereal. I don’t even know how I went all my life without glancing twice at her—speaking as a person who happened to have done just that the previous night, as is now unable to look at anything else.

Gigi Santos could easily be way out of my reach, but I’d be damned not to try extending my arm towards her; just to see if angels really exist.

“Honestly, I can’t even believe she followed you.” Pierre admits as we keep walking towards the media pen.

I let out a huff, slightly agreeing with him, yet still offended he’s find that surprising.

“Gigi is super private, doesn’t like people much.” He goes on. “But maybe that’s good, that she followed you. I don’t know. Anyways, I gotta go—watch what you say to my girl.”

I roll my eyes and start walking the other way, eyes fixated on the screen in front of me.

Unknown

Hi Kika. It’s Lando

Norris

From formula one

Pierre’s girl

Hi!

Everything okay?

Lando from formula 1

Yeah, no all good 👍🏻

I was just wondering, I mean,

I was thinking about your

friend.

Gigi Santos

She is, she’s cute

Pierre’s girl

She sure is

Lando from formula 1

Yeah and I was hoping

maybe I could get her

number? From you

Pierre wouldn’t give it to me

Pierre’s girl

Sorry!! She doesn’t like random people having her number without her knowing :(

But I’m sure you’ll have your chance at talking :)

Lando from formula 1

What do you mean?

Pierre’s girl

I mean, it seems like you’re already in contact

Kind of

I smile, knowing exactly what she was talking about.

The post I made just this morning on instagram, was a long shot, risky and could possibly lead to Gigi Santos thinking I’m a cocky arsehole. But my fingers itched as they lingered over the post button, my whole body vibrating with a random need to interact with her—without looking like a needy fucking chad, who DMs her with no cause.

My heart almost stopped when my eyes caught her name on the liked list, and I swear I stopped breathing when her post popped up on my feed—I’m single too btw.

I nearly hop over to Kaylee, my PR manager, who seems much too irritated for a Thursday.

“Good morning, Kaylee.”

“Just morning will do, Lando, since you decided to make a social media uproar by declaring your marital status.” She eyes me, surely picturing how it’d be to strangle me. “I want no mention of anything close to your relationship status, Instagram, plans of partying after the GP or Gigi Santos.”

My eyes pop out of their sockets, shocked to have someone else acknowledge our little interaction.

“W-what?”

“I’m not dumb, or hiding under a rock. Neither are the journalists, nor the people who’ll view your interviews. Just be mindful. ‘S all I ask.”

I nod, not trusting myself to say the appropriate thing, and try to prepare for a day of avoiding my favorite subjects.

~ ~ ~

Instagram Reels - Lando Norris, Media day, last interview of the day

142.038 views

comments

LLL4NDO.NORRIS bro literally changed ten colors when asked about his post LOL

ln4fan what a cheeky shit, pretending not to know mother Gigi

44loves04 LANDO YOU AINT FOOLING NO BODY

gigimothersantos this man better be joking

gigi1604 MY TWO WORLDS COLLIDING

f1fan63 am i the only one that’s confused?

gigisantos at least he said he loved my songs 🤷🏻‍♀️

-> santossssslovr MOTHER

-> gigiismyqueen go get em girl

-> hayleelovesgigi give us the album!!!!!

~ ~ ~

Gigi’s POV

I smiled at my phone, overly amused by whatever game I decided to play.

I don’t know what made me rise from the hungover/coma I was in a few hours ago, just to make a post about being single and commenting on that reel.

There’s no logical explanation other than the sudden need to be in this man’s world.

It was clear the post Lando made was about me, and, honestly? I found it terribly adorable. My heart flipped and my lunges filled with an energy I hadn’t felt in a long time…plus, he’s a race car driver and I’m single.

Having fun and playing this little game with him while I’m here won’t hurt. I need a new distraction from whatever’s going on in my career anyway.

Maybe coming to Monaco was a better idea than I originally thought.

———————

SMALL, SHITTY AND ALMOST POINTLESS but I suck at intro chapters and I promised two chapter before the new year

i will definitely do better next time and get into the characters and ACTUAL plot lol

anyways, i hope you enjoy your New Year’s Eve!! 🥂

cindy

(ps. my inbox is open if u wanna say hi 👋🏻)

[coveey-s]

solaris

word count: 1.8k

paring: spencer reid x oc (but sorta y/n ish lol)

summary: spencer and ariana go to see a showing of 'solaris' (referenced in season 6 ep 14)

warnings: none?? just fluff lol

i don't really write fanfic this is kinda a one off so mb if this is a bit clunky 🤗🙃

Ariana Striker didn't really watch a lot of Sci-Fi. But ever since joining the BAU about a year ago and befriending a certain Spencer Reid, she knew more than ever before.

She was packing up her things for the night at the office after a case in LA when she noticed him talking on the phone at the desk over.

Ariana heard him mention something called 'Solaris'. What was that? A new planet he'd discovered?

Spencer hung up the phone with an odd look on his face.

"Who were you talking to?" Ariana asked, she couldn't help being curious.

"Emily, I was asking if she wanted to see Solaris in the theater with me, since she and I are the only ones who understand Russian," he answered, putting his phone in his pocket, "But she's busy with Sergio."

Her eyes widened, "Ooh, a new guy?"

"Her cat," Spencer replied, "But I thought the same thing."

"Oh," Ariana laughed, "Anyway, what's Solaris?" she asked.

"It's a Sci-Fi film made in 1972 that follows a psychiatrist sent to investigate the death of a doctor and the mental states of the cosmonauts in a space station orbiting a planet named Solaris." Spencer explained.

"Really? Interesting, a Russian sci fi film." she pondered.

"It's approximately five hours long, it's one of the greatest sci fi mediation films of all time." he added picking up his bag, "Well, bye," he started off.

"Wait," Ariana half laughed.

He stopped and turned raising his eyebrows.

"You didn't ask me about my plans?"

"Oh, what are your plans?" he asked.

"I was planning on eating Ben & Jerry's and watching 21 Jump Street..." she began.

"What's 21 Jump Street?" Spencer asked.

"You've never- you know it doesn't matter, point is the emphasis is on was. "

"What are you doing now?" he rested his hands in his pockets.

Ariana shook her head, "You know what nevermind, it's okay. Enjoy your movie, Reid." she smiled, slipping her coat on.

Spencer frowned, "I have a feeling I'm missing something."

She stepped out from behind her desk and walked towards him, "I was hinting that I could go to the movie with you but it seemed to-" Ariana made a woodshing sound and waved her hand over her head.

"Oh," Spencer said, "You don't understand Russian."

"Y'know for a profiler you seem to be highly confused by my behavior. I'm trying to make a nice gesture, so you don't have to go alone." Ariana motioned vaguely.

"You want to watch a five hour movie in a language you don't understand?"

She had to admit it didn't sound like the most fun, but maybe it could be, with him.

"Why not? I can probably pick up on stuff with the visuals and if you give me a quick explanation of the plot before we start ." Arriana shrugged.

"I can explain on the way," Spencer said enthusiastically.

"Let's go," she replied, patting him on the shoulder.

~~~~~~~

When they arrived she was once again baffled at the way his mind worked, however she doubted if she'd retain all the information she'd heard.

"So what's the probability that there really is a water brain planet out there?" Ariana asked as she grabbed her popcorn.

"I don't think there's an exact probability, but only 0.05 percent of the galaxy has been explored so it's possible." Spencer reasoned.

"Wow, you don't have an exact stat for something?" Ariana teased, popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth.

"I know," Spencer said sadly.

"Popcorn?" she offered, pointing the bucket at him.

He shook his head.

"More for me," Ariana said happily.

The theatre was small and old, it still had the light box lettering on the outside and little red seats on the inside.

They took their seats in the back, despite Spencer's point that the best seats were technically in the middle.

"But back here, you get to see the full screen, and you don't get people hitting you in the back." Ariana remarked.

He seemed to accept that and settled into his seat as the beginning credits began to play.

Ariana pulled off her coat and leaned back. She glanced at Spencer who's brown eyes were trained on the screen.

Just as she looked away she felt his gaze on her. Ariana peered at him through the corner of her eye, and neither of them looked away for a moment. She smiled and he smiled before she focused her attention on the movie, hoping she wasn't blushing like a school girl.

The movie was interesting, but her sleepless nights at the hotel the past few days were finally catching up to her and she was struggling to stay awake.

She was abruptly pulled out of her daze when the movie stopped for an intermission. Thank god, she needed to stretch her legs and wake herself up.

Ariana stood and stretched her arms over her head, "I could do with some fresh air, come on."

Spencer followed after her into the cool night air.

"What do you think of it, the movie?" he asked.

"Good, very Russian." I answered.

He nodded and his mouth fell into that flat line like it always did.

Ariana thought for a moment, "You know what I can do? I'm really good at catching food with my mouth," she clapped her hands together.

Spencer looked at her puzzledly, "What?"

"You know, people throw peanuts or something and people catch them in their mouths?" she threw a piece of popcorn at him.

He watched it fall, "I see,"

"Here," she shoved the popcorn bucket into his arms, "Throw a piece, I'll show you."

"I have terrible aim," Spencer added matter-of-factly.

"Try your best,"

He threw a piece of popcorn in the air and Ariana successfully caught it.

"See," she said between bites.

Spencer laughed a little, "Cool."

"Now, your turn," Ariana took back the bag.

"No, I'm okay," he insisted.

"Just try, I'm gonna keep throwing popcorn at you until you do," Ariana threatened.

Spencer shrugged, "Okay, I'll give it a shot,"

She threw it up and he surprisingly got it, "Wow you're a natural, I've been honing my skills for years." Ariana smiled.

"It's more physics than physical ability, but thank you," he said earnestly.

"No, you're the chosen one." Ariana chuckled.

Spencer did too and they continued throwing popcorn until intermission was over.

Once they returned to their seats Ariana prayed for the strength to stay awake for another two and a half hours.

It didn't work.

Five minutes later, Ariana was out.

Spencer turned to her to see her fast asleep, head half resting on the back of the chair.

He laughed to himself and just watched her for a moment, she really was pretty. But of course that didn't matter. Spencer cleared his throat and shifted his arms against the arm rests.

Approximately fifty five seconds later, Ariana slumped down further, and her head rested against his shoulder.

Spencer's eyes widened, she was still deeply asleep, and her head was on his shoulder. Her head was on his shoulder.

He was never overly touchy, but his team was the exception, often sharing hugs with them. And Ariana, she gave great hugs.

So there was no logical reason as to why her head on his shoulder was distracting him so much. But it was.

He made an active decision to not focus on the warmth of her body against his or the smell of her conditioner, he would miss the movie.

For two hours and twenty eight minutes, Spencer didn't move his left arm, and found it to be quiet numb.

The movie ended and Ariana was still slumbering so Spencer made an attempt to wake her.

"Ariana," he muttered, "Ariana, the movie is done."

She stirred and then opened her eyes a little, squinting at the light. Coming to her senses, Ariana shot up.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," she motioned to his arm.

"It's okay," he said quietly, flexing his hands, trying to get blood flow back.

"What happened? Is the movie over?" Ariana looked around.

"Yes," he answered.

"Oh, Spencer, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," she said, rubbing her face, "I'm just a bit sleep deprived."

"Don't be, you got some sleep and I enjoyed the company." Spencer concluded, standing and grabbing his jacket.

"I suppose that's true," Ariana said as they exited the theatre.

"You've got a pretty comfortable shoulder," she added.

"Thank you," he said contently, "You've got a...nice head..." Spencer scratched the back of his head.

She chuckled at him, "Thanks. We should do this again sometime," Ariana proposed.

"There's a showing of Silent Running next week," Spencer replied.

"It's a date." she winked.

Spencer smiled at the ground.

"So," Ariana nudged him, "I gotta know how Solaris ended."

"So," Spencer began.

[hydriko]

[ THE FLOUR INCIDENT ]

an unsuccessful attempt at making a birthday cake for hongjoong . . . kim hongjoong x gn!reader

genres / warnings : fluff, crack, hongjoong’s birthday, reader is kinda dumb, one swear word, a kiss, nothing else I think :)

a/n : i know his birthday is in nov but it’s okay…also I had to write for one of my fav bias wreckers so

♫ “ show me how ” by men I trust

hongjoong’s birthday was tomorrow, and you were really tempted to make him a special homemade cake for him. the only problem was…you were really bad at baking.

you had already thought it over a few times, and deciding to ignore the unfortunate fact, you resulted into doing it anyway.

currently, it was 8:00 at night and hongjoong was still at the studio stirring up whatever new songs would be in ATEEZ’s next comeback.

you had gotten all of the ingredients set out on your kitchen counter, looking up a cake recipe up on your phone. you turned up the music you’d put on to help yourself concentrate, proceeding to open the required ingredients that you needed first.

you hummed along to the song as you cracked the eggs into the mixing bowl, swaying side to side with the beat.

“ okay… now onto the flour… ” you mumbled, grabbing the brand new bag that you bought earlier at the grocery store.

with your inexperience with baking and the slowly deteriorating count of cells in your brain, you decided to open the bag up like a bag of chips.

when the bag at first didn’t open, you frowned and decided to pull with all your might. the bag opened, sure, but more than you had anticipated.

flour went everywhere. on the counter, the floor, all over your face, even the ceiling.

“ shit— ” was all you could say when all of a sudden you heard the sound of the front door opening and closing, meaning that hongjoong was home. meaning that he would see you. covered in flour.

you stood there helplessly as hongjoong entered the kitchen, stopping in his tracks when he realized what was going on. for a good minute, you two stared wide-eyed at each other before hongjoong let out a small chuckle.

“ wow…uh— what happened? ” he let out a cough, standing seriously as soon as he noticed your pout.

“ ughh…I was trying to make you a cake for your birthday tomorrow, and all was well until…this happened, ” you sighed, looking around at the mess you’d made.

“ you were making a cake? for me? ” hongjoong smiled, walking over to you to wrap his arms around your waist.

“ I mean, yeah…I thought you’d like something like that, ” you looked at him, pausing when you noticed the smile— like the “this is really funny” smile— on his face.

“ what…? ” you narrowed your eyes, “ do I have something on my face…? ” you brought up a hand to your cheek, face dropping when you realized— well, remembered— that your face was covered in flour.

hongjoong let out a small laugh, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose and then to your lips.

“ don’t laugh! ” you slapped his arm playfully, trying to suppress your smile.

“ sorry— sorry, ” he said, finally calming down, ” well…wanna bake together instead? ”

“ I mean we could but…I maybe kinda sorta mighta only bought one of each ingredient… ” you smiled awkwardly, averting your eyes to the side.

“ why don’t we go buy some more, yeah? then we can have a bake night together, ” hongjoong announced, enlacing his hand into yours.

“ I would love to. ”

[fandomtherapy44]

castiel x reader

Summary: This story is from the perspective of Y/n Winchester. The sister Of Dean and Sam. We will be starting from season four since sadly we did not get Misha Collins as Castiel throughout the whole series. It will start off as a friendship, but it will grow more as the series goes on. I will be skipping some episodes even though they are great episodes they do not push the story forward. I am so excited to get to write this since they are not many Castiel X reader stories out there. Okay without further due Love War & Grace enjoy the Story.

Paring: Castiel X Reader

Word count: 5,854

Warnings: Some language, Typical Supernatural violence, Spoilers for season four of Supernatural, the boys being mean to y/n, love spells

Chapter seven: Sex and violence

Y/n's POV

I was on my way back from getting some coffee and doughnuts for my brothers and I because there was no way that we wouldn't stop for these anyway. So, I thought I might as well get it out of the way and save some time and let my brothers sleep as much as they could considering the last few weeks. I was also wondering how Cas was doing. I haven't seen him these last few weeks. I kind of wished I had, just being around him somehow makes me be calmer and that's important with the stressful job I have. I hope he didn't get in trouble for when he hesitated to knock me out or that he's not hurt when Alastair almost pulled a uno reverse on him. I wish he could have a damn phone so I'm not worrying half of the time. 

As I open the motel room door, I make sure to be extra quiet to not wake Sam and Dean. I look to the beds and see Dean in one but not Sam. Then I hear his voice from the bathroom. “Yeah, that's what I'm telling you. No storms, no bad crops, nothing.” Demon signs? Who was he talking to this early in the morning? I was sure it was not Bobby because I knew he just got done with a pretty nasty werewolf case and was properly sleeping off the beer and coffee along with exhaustion. I try to stand still to not warn Sam then I hear sheets moving and look to see Dean awake listening to the same interesting conversation. “Yeah, okay. We'll keep looking. You keep looking too, OK? All right. Talk soon.” 

Sam finished and was coming out of the bathroom. I ran back to the door to make it look like I had just got back and slammed the door loud. “Hey guys I got coffee and doughnuts for us.” I said placing the drinks and food down on the table trying to sound normal. They both kind of looked at it like I had just gotten a five-star steak meal. They both come over grabbing some joe and a pastry. “Thanks Y/n/n” Dean said, stuffing his face with sprinkles falling out as a result. “Yes, thank you Y/n” Sam replied, grabbing a cup of joe and got a half of a doughnut with him being a health nut and all. “So, were you both sleeping?” I asked, trying not to seem obvious. “Dean was, I was in the can.” “Really” Dean and I both replied. 

“Yeah guys, you want me to draw you a picture?” “Nah We’ll pass I think.” I said sitting on the bed trying not to think about the secret convo in the bathroom. “Found a job. Bedford, Iowa. Guy beat his wife's brains out with a meat tenderizer.” Sam said, handing us a newspaper about the story. “Oh my gosh.” “And get this. Third local inside two months to gank his wife. No priors on any of 'em, all happily married.” “Once is sad and disturbing but three is a pattern.” I said looking at the man in the picture looking very happy with his now very dead wife. “Ahh. Sounds like Ozzie and Harriet.” Dean said, grabbing the newspaper from me. “More like The Shining.” Sam replied with a smirk. “All right, well I guess we'd better have a look.” Dean said moving to the bathroom to get ready for the day and me failing to not think about who the Hell was Sam talking to.

Currently we were sitting in the integration room with the man of the hour. He kept on ignoring eye contact like he was ashamed to look at us. “Why does the PD keep sending you guys? I already said I don't want a lawyer.” “They're lining up the firing squad.” Dean replied, staring the man in the eyes. “I'm pleading guilty.” He said back to us. “All right, look, you don't want us to represent you, that's fine. In fact it's probably not a bad idea, between you and me. We just wanna understand what happened, that's all.” “Mr. Benson. Please.” I said trying a softer approach with him. “What happened was, I killed my wife. You wanna know why? Because she made plans without asking me.” Well, there is another reason to not to date. “Now when it happened, how did you feel? Disoriented, out of control?” Sam asked. “Like something was telling you or possessed you to do it?” I said. “I knew exactly what I was doing. I was crystal clear.” He replied with no stuttering, it was chilling. “Then why'd you, do it?” Dean asked. “I don't know. I loved her. We were happy.” I brought some papers out on the table of his bank statements and tapped on them. “For a man who loved his wife you were sure spending a lot of secret money on 'M & C Entertainment'.” “I don't know what you're talking about.” Come on dude you murdered your wife the least you can do is tell the truth. 

“It means you were dropping fifties on some nude entertainment.” “We just wanna know the truth, Mr. Benson.” Sam added in. “Her name was Jasmine.” Like the Disney princess? “She was a stripper?” Sam questioned. “Dude, her name was Jasmine.” Dean said matter of factly. “I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't like to go to strip bars. My buddy was having a bachelor party, and there she was. She came right up to me. And...I dunno, she was just...perfect. Everything that I wanted.” “Well, you pay enough, and anybody will be anything.” Dean said and he was not wrong. “It wasn't about the money. It wasn't even about the sex. It was...I dunno. I....I don't know what it was. It's hard to explain.” It sounds like this man was down bad for this princess. “And your wife found out?” I asked curious. “No, she never had a clue.” “Then why'd you kill her?” “For Jasmine. She said we would be together forever. If...if only Vicki was…” Dead, damn whatever this is it really wants to be the only woman. “Afterwards, me and Jasmine were supposed to meet, and she never showed. I don't know where she lives, I don't know her last name, I don't even know her real first name! I'm an idiot.” He is but this was not all his fault I have inkling that something else was at play than good sex. “And you didn't think to tell this to the cops?” Sam questioned. “What for? The stripper didn't do it, I did it. And I know what I deserve. The judge doesn't give me the death sentence, I'll just do it myself.”

Sam and I are going to go talk to the head doctor to hopefully get some answers while Dean was finding if the other men had matched with Bensen’s spending. As we walked in the office the doctor was taking some Advil. “Rough night?” Sam questioned. “Fun night. Rough morning.” She said while rubbing her forehead. “Can I help you?” She asked us and I replied. “Ahhh...yes. Um, I'm Special Agent Ross, Agent Stiles, FBI. You Doctor Cara Roberts?” “Far as I know.” “You do some work with the Sheriff's department?” Sam asked. “Yeah, when I'm not slogging it through the ER. It's a small town. We multi-task.” “We have some questions about a case. About several cases actually. Do you mind if we sit?” Sam asked for us. “Great. Adam Benson, Jim Wylie, and Steve Snyder.” I said, referring to the men. “Oh yeah, the men who killed their wives?” “You handled their work-ups, right?” She nodded her head. “Autopsies for the wives and tox screens for the perps. Two-for-one special.” “Fun right” I said, trying to add to the conversation because I sensed that the doctor and Sam were giving each other the look.

“He he I’m sorry. Did you find anything?” I asked moving away from my awkward moment. “Not really. I mean, c.o.d. on the women was pretty clear. There was nothing unusual in their systems.” That would make sense. “What about the husbands?” “Can I....see your badges again?” she asked, and we both pull them out again. She gives Sam’s a real good hard look while she barely glances at mine. “There was one thing, um, an anomaly in the blood work. And I remember thinking how strange it was that it showed up in all three of the men.” She said as she pulled out their files. “What showed?” I asked while looking at the file. “Oxytocin. And their levels were crazy high.” “Ahh. Oxytocin?” “Mm-hmm, it's a hormone that's produced during childbirth, lactation and sex.” 

“People call it the love hormone. Um, you know how it feels when you first fall in love. The whole weak in the knees, tattoo you on my chest thing? That's oxytocin. Of course, it eventually fades and then you're stuck with every relationship ever. That and the painful regime of tattoo removal.” I wouldn't know but Sam would. As I looked up from the file Sam and Cara were smiling at each other with that look while they kind of forgot that I was right next to them. Then Dean entered which is good because it was getting awkward for me. “What'd I miss?” “Um Doctor this is our other partner, Agent Murdoch.” I said introducing them. Then Dean went into his Dean flirt mode. “Please, "Agent" sounds so formal. You can call me Dean.” He said holding out his hand and she took his hand and held it for like two seconds and let go. Wow I don't think I have ever seen this before. Usually, women are all over him and even sometimes get mad at me for being next to him. 

“I'm Doctor Roberts.” Then she turned back to Sam. “So, um, can I help you with anything else?” “Uhh, sure, just one more thing. This chemical, this…” “Oxytocin.” “Oxytocin. What would cause those high levels that you found?” “Nothing that I've ever seen.” “OK. That's it. Thanks Doc.” As he finishes, we go to leave the office and Sam stops to tell her. “By the way...try a greasy breakfast. Best thing for a hangover.” Sammy going for it, good for him. “Watch it buddy, I'm the only M.D. here.” She replied back smiling. “Dude, you totally C-blocked me.” Dean told Sam. yeah sure Dean let's go with that.

The three of us are now going to the car. “So Whylie and Snyder totally fessed up, huh?” Sam asked Dean about the others. “One emptied his IRA, the other, his kids' college fund, all on the same day.” Now that's what I call commitment. “Nude girls?” I questioned. “A club called 'The Honey Wagon'.” Very on the nose I see. “These guys have affairs too, with a stripper also known as Jasmine?” “Yes and no. This is where it gets interesting. Each guy hooked up with a different chick.” “So, is there a secret princess stripper operation going on?” “Well, they all described their stripper in the same way, the exact same way. Perfect, and everything that they wanted.” Like build your own sex doll factory. “Yeah, at least until dream Barbie convinced them to murder their wives.” Sam said being right and a little bit funny. “You know, it's almost like they were under some kind of love spell.” “Exactly what I was thinking I mean usually girls will just take the money and be happy with that but whatever this is it wants devotion that comes from love and for them that means murdering that woman containing the man's life.” I agreed with Sam. “Sure seems that way.” Dean replied back. “Which caused them to become totally psychotic.” “Absolutely.” 

As we entered the strip club, I felt I had at least a dozen pair of eyes landing on me, half of them wanting to see me up on the stage and the other half seeing if I was here to bust them for cheating. “We’re looking for three girls. Jasmine, Aurora and Ariel.” Dean said to the manager as his eyes wandered to the stage. “You seriously think those names mean anything to me?” He said almost annoyed also he was eyeing me up and down. “One's a redhead about 5'9". The other one's Asian, about…” I said getting his memory going hopefully. “You have any idea how many girls I deal with? Fake names, fake hair, fake…” He said, referring to the chest area. “You gotta have some sort of paperwork. Cheque stubs. Some way to keep track of the strippers.” Dean said to him. “Please, exotic dancers. Independent contractors working for cash. I stay out of their hair, they stay out of what little I have left.” “Sir, three of your customers murdered their wives. You don't think that that's weird? Or at least to raise a little concern.” I said to him. 

“Sweetheart, I think that's super-friggin' weird. But you know what it ain't? My problem. And if it turns out one of my employees is a murderer coordinator, I’ll have a spot open. You could have it, you know, if the FBI doesn't work out. I know it's a lot of work for women.” I almost pulled out my gun right there, but I held myself back and Dean looked the same. “Agent, could you go get us some drinks? I got this.” I said turning to Dean and he gave me a look of are you sure and I looked back, yes. “Sir I am just fine in my job, and I will take on more weight in my life then you will ever do in your long single life. Your workers work hard for themselves, and their families and they deserve respect as does anyone and they aren't just objects that you can talk about so carelessly. Next time you want to make a comment like that in front of me I just want you to remember I have a Glock on my side.” I finished walking away leaving him shocked and a little afraid. I walk over to the boys getting to the table and downing my drink I needed to after dealing with that little gremlin.

“Y/n I think he peed himself a little … good job!” Dean said high fiving me. “Just another day another mean person taken down any luck with Bobby?” I asked Sam. “A little. We officially have a theory.” “What’s that?” Dean and I both ask. “Siren.” Ohh that makes sense. “Like Greek myth siren, the Odessy?” Dean said surprising Sam but not me. I knew Dean was smarter than he let people know. “Hey, I read!” He said offended at Sam's look. “Yeah, actually. But the siren's not actually a myth, it's more of a beautiful creature that preys on men, enticing them with their siren song.” “Let me guess, 'Welcome to the Jungle?' No, no. Warrant's 'Cherry Pie.'” Dean responded. “Ha good one but I think Sam means more of allure like a promise of perfection.” “

So, they shake their thing and the guy's zombie out.” “Basically, yeah. Sirens lived on islands, sailors would chase 'em, completely ignoring the rocky shores...and dash themselves to pieces.” Sam added back in. “Sounds like Adam and his buddies.” Dean said back. “exactly” “Yeah. If you were a siren in '09 looking to ruin a bunch of morons, where would you set up shop?” “So whatever floats the guy's boat, that's what they look like?” Dean said confirming it. “Like Disney princesses” I said back. “Yeah. You see, sirens can read minds. They see what you want most and then they can kinda, like, cloak themselves. You know, like an illusion.” “So, it could all be the same chick? Morphing into, uh, to different dream girls?” “Yeah, actually. Probably. Sirens are usually pretty solitary.” “So, uh how do we kill it?” I ask. “Bobby's working on it. Even if we figure that out…” “How the hell are we gunna find it? It could be anybody.” 

Dean and I were waiting in the motel room for Sam getting info on the new guy and looks like he left his phone. Dean picks it up. “Dean, come on, maybe we should ask him.” “Y/n with everything that has been going on this past year do you think he would tell the truth.” He doesn’t let me answer and dials the number anyway and puts the phone on speaker. “Hey, Sam.....Sam?... You there...?” Guess who was on the other line my best friend Ruby. We both look at each other in disbelief and he quickly hangs up the phone as Sam comes back in. “Lenny Bristol was definitely another siren vic.” He said walking in the room. “You get in to see him?” Dean asked him, sounding like he was trying not to punch him. “Yep. He brought home a stripper named Belle. Couple hours later he offed his mother. Belle, of course, went MIA.” “Wait, he killed his mom?” “The woman he was closest too.” Then Sams phone rang. “Yeah, you, uh, forgot your cell phone.” I said handing it to him. He gave me weird look. “Hey Bobby.” “Ahhh, no. And, uh, it doesn't seem like she's slowing down any. You got anything?” 

“Hold on a sec, I'll put you on speaker.” He puts the phone on the table for all of us to hear. "It says you need "a bronze dagger, covered in the blood of a sailor, under the spell of the song". “What the hell does that mean?” I ask. “You got me. We're dealing with 3000 years of the telephone game here.” “Best guess?” “Well, the siren's spell ain't got nothing to do with any song. It's most likely some kind of toxin or venom. Something she gets in the vic's blood.” “And makes them go all Manchurian Candidate. Uh, what do you think, she infects the men during sex?” I asked. “Maybe.” “Supernatural STD.” “Well, however it happens, once it's done the siren's gotta watch her back. She gets a dose of her own medicine…” “It will kill her.” I said finishing Bobby’s sentence. “Like a snake getting iced by its own venom.” “So, we just gotta find a way to juice one of the OJs in jail?” Dean said thinking it was going to be that easy. “Not that easy. None of those guys are under the spell anymore. Haven't got a clue where you're going to get the blood you need.” Sam looked like he was thinking. “I think I might have an idea.” He said talking about the blood if we could see it and maybe he could see the doctor again. “Be careful. These things are tricky bitches. Wrap you up in knots before you know what hit ya.” We left ready to go to the hospital and me wanting to talk to Sam about Ruby before Dean would blow up about it. 

“Dr. Roberts.” Sam said to Cara. “Agent Stiles. Can't stay away, huh?” Yup they are definitely feeling each other out. “Actually, uh, we're here on business. About the blood samples. The ones with the high...you know...oxytocin?” “Do you still have them?” I ask. “Mm-hmm.” “Good, we need them.” Dean replied a little rude there. “What for?” She asked. I was about to answer when this handsome man walked up to us in a suit and tie. “Excuse me, Dr. Roberts?” “Yeah?” “Excuse me, uh, we're a little busy here, buddy.” Dean said, pulling out his FBI badge and then so did the man. “Yeah, so am I, pal.” Oh, shit it was a real agent and a cute one at that. “Doc, can you give us a sec, please?” Sam said to Cara. “Sure.” She said backing away. “What's your name?” Dean asked very rudely you know if you're going to fake being an FBI agent you should probably not be a dick to a real one.

“Nick Munroe. What's yours?” I answered before they started to pull out to measure. “I am special agent Y/n Ross, and these are my partners Sam Stiles, Dean Murdoch.” “Y/n that's a pretty name.” Damn it am I blushing I think I’m blushing. “Thanks, I like yours too” What is going on with me? “What office are you from?” Sam stepped in. “Omaha, Violent Crimes Unit. My SAC sent me down here to see about the murders.” “You?” He asked and felt like he was looking at me when he said it. I felt like I was in middle school again.”D.C. Our Assistant Director assigned us.” Dean answered. “Oh, which AD?” “Mike Kaiser.” “What are your badge numbers?” He asked. “You're kidding, right?” “Dean he's just doing his job here you can call our AD and we can sort this out maybe we can even work together.” I said the words before I could even register them. No, I don't want Nick to be around us to find out that we’re not real FBI agents, but I can't stop talking. 

I handed him the card and he took it out of my hand, but he also grabbed it slowly and I got pulled a little with it. He went over to the corner to call our “AD” aka Bobby cooking. While they both turned to me. “Y/n are you serious right now?”  Sam said to me. I get upset at that. “What you Dean are the only ones allowed to date. Is it because he's a real agent and that he's threatening your power.” I said to them, and they were both shocked I was a little too. “No of course not-” “Good then he can help us and don't worry I won't let him really know what's really going on I'm not Dean of how he bangs a girl for a couple months and then tells the family secret to.” I finished referring to Cassie from a couple years ago who Dean really did love. I knew that was a bitch thing to say but for some reason I didn't really care at that moment. “Y/n -” “I'm sorry, guys.” Nick said, walking back to us. “That's okay Nick you were just doing your job.” I said, smiling softly. As my brothers stood there both were wondering what was going with their sister. “Where are you at with this?” He asked us. 

“Where are you at with this?” Dean asked trying to suss out how much Nick really knew. “Well, I was just about to run the, uh, perps' bloodwork.” I jumped again at the opportunity to talk to him. “We we’re too great minds think alike huh? But it turns out to be a dead end sadly.” “Oh yeah? But get this. I feel like I found something that, uh, connects all the murderers.” “Oh my gosh, that is so smart Nick.” “Thank you Y/n. Get this they were all banging strippers.... from the same club.” “You don't say!” Dean said with a sarcastic undertone. “What do you say we, uh, go down there and check it out?” “YES, I mean yes we definitely should investigate.” I said getting closer to him. “Well, here's the thing, Nick. See, we're kinda lone wolves…” Dean starts to say but Sam stops him. “You know what, that sounds like an excellent idea. Just... just give me a second with my partner and we'll, uh...one sec. Come here.” Sam brings Dean over to the corner. While Nick and I talk.

“Dude, you gotta stay with him.” Dean did not want to do that. “What?” “Keep him outta the way. Also, to keep an eye on Y/n there is something wrong with her.” They both look to Nick and I giggling up a storm and as I kept on touching Nick on the shoulder which if I do like guy, I don't do that. “Yeah, okay what are you going to do?” “I'm gonna do the blood samples.” “What the hell am I supposed to do with him?” “Just take him to the strip club...keep an eye out for the siren. Come on, Dean, just... just focus on the naked girls. You'll forget he's even there! And try to keep Y/n away from him.” Dean thought if I can as he looked over to me just staring at Nick like he was the messiah. 

Dean, Nick and I were back at the strip club and the two men currently are going off on each other of music knowledge. “Nobody's Fault But Mine.” Dean questioned. “Zeppelin recorded it in '75. It was a cover of a Blind Willie Johnson tune.” “Good job Nick” I winked at him and grabbed his hand a bit. “You Shook Me.” Nick questioned back and I answered this one. “'69, debut album, written by Willie Dixon and J.B. Lenoir.” “Nice Y/n, pretty and brains your boyfriend is a lucky man.” He said, staring at me. “Well maybe lucky for you I don't have one.” I said getting closer. Dean saw us getting closer and realized he was dropping the ball on watching me. “You know dude, for a fed you're not a totally dick.” Dean said stopping Nick and I. Nick was confused. "Aren't all of us feds?” He asked. 

The three of us were walking to the car and Nick saw the car. “All right, we're taking my ride, no complaining about the tunes.” Dean said. “No way. You drive an Impala?” I knew Nick was a cool guy and it looks like Dean is about to find out too. “It's a '67, right? It's a 327 four barrel.” wow spot on. “Yeah, actually.” Dean said confirming it surprised that Nick knew about it. “It's a thing of beauty.” When he said that he also looked at me and winked. “How the hell did you talk the Bureau into letting you drive your own wheels? “Maybe because we're fake. But Nick doesn't need to know that.

“Yeah, I know, I just...you know, not a lot of feds are as cool as us, huh?” Smooth Dean smooth. “So, what the hell with this case, man? How does a girl talk four different johns into murder?” Nick asked Dean and not really me. “It's a crazy world.” “I guess. Hey, can I level with you?” He asked. “I found something kinda weird.” “Well. You have bought your weird to the right spot. Lay it on me.” “I went to the crime scene this morning. Saw them bagging this up.” He showed us this evidence bag with flower petals in it. “So, I went back, uh, through all the files. It turns out a flower just like that was found at every crime scene.” It looked familiar. “Like it was left on purpose?” Dean questioned. “You know, sometimes a serial killer will leave an object behind, like a calling card. But with this case? Tell you the truth, I got no idea what's going on.” “I think I might. I've seen a flower like this before.” He said getting up to go into Cara, but I didn't care all I cared about was Nick at that moment. 

“Why don't we get out of here.” Nick said, standing up holding out his hand for me to take. We ended up in this little cafe and we talked fully for those two hours, and he seemed really into the same things I like. He started to lean closer and closer and was looking at my lips, but my nerves got in the way. “Uh sorry Nick I will be right back.” As I walked to the restroom, I did not see his expression change from a smile to an annoyed one. I walked to the restroom and locked it and went to the mirror. “You got this y/n you are amazing.” 

“Y/n? Let's go” “You got this it's just research and plus Nick might need help right Nick?” “Most definitely I could use the help.” I giggled at him again. Dean didn't have time to deal with this.”Alright you know what Y/n meet us at the room in two hours okay.” “Okay” I answered not even looking at him. 

================================================

As I finished my sentence, I saw something I was not expecting. “Cas?’” I turned around to say something instead he came up close and suddenly I was in a random field. “CAS WHAT THE HELL?” I yelled at him. He didn't say anything as he came close and touched my forehead and it was like a fog had lifted. “Oh my gosh what happened to me?” He replied. “You were under a pre love spell.” He said so casually. “A pre-love spell, what does that even mean?” “It means the siren that you were so close to almost had you completely under his control.” “Nick?” I asked and he nodded his head. “That scaly Motherfucker.” “Wait, how did you know?” I asked him. “Were you following me?”  “I was” “Why?” “I sensed you were in trouble.” I couldn't even figure that out because I was covered in that love fog. “Thanks, you really are a guardian angel.” “I was just doing my job.” 

“Yeah, Cas for a job that's pretty amazing. I guess I'm pretty lucky to have an angel as a friend.” I said finishing and smiling. “Friend?” “Well to me you are, you keep saving me and listening to me that's what friends do Cas.” “Right friends” He said and looked happy? “The siren! I have to worn Sam and Dean.” “Send me back.” He hesitated not wanting to send me back to danger, but he knew I would get there one way or another. He came up to me and before holding up his fingers and said, “Just be careful” That made me happy that he cared to tell me that. “Don't worry I always am.” He then put his fingers back on my forehead and I was back at the motel.  

I went straight to our room calling Dean and then Sam because they were not answering. “Dean, pick up your damn phone, the siren is Nick! Be careful.” I walked in the room and as soon as the door closed, I had a pair of arms run into me. “Daaa!” I was struggling to see you had me pinned then I saw Nick walk in front of me. “Y/n where did you go? We were about to get to the fun part of our date.” I looked to the side and just saw Sam standing there. “Sam! Help!” Nick laughs at me. “Ohh Y/n your brothers won't lift a finger unless I tell them to” I then looked behind me and it was Dean who was holding me back. “So, you just come in and home wreck everyone into murdering their loved ones.” “I give those guys what they want. I just lift the blind and give them permission to do what they always wanted to do. And I got what I wanted, your brothers.” “Sam why don't you give your sister a nice punch not on the face though I don't want it too damaged.” Sam walked in front of me and punched me in the stomach as Dean held me.

“Uhhh” I wanted to fall from the impact, but I couldn't. “Your brothers are mine Y/n” “You poisoned them.” “No Y/n I gave them what they wanted as it looks different for each person. What you want no crave is love. I mean I have never seen a person fall harder for me. You must not never have been in love don't worry you will be in a minute. Dean hold her up right and Sam hold her mouth open.” They did without being told twice. I try to fight it but it's impossible because of how strong my brothers were put together. Nick opens his mouth wide and squirts his toxin in mine. I am let go and drop to the ground. “Now why don't we get back to that kiss sweetheart.” Nick said getting closer as I punched him right in his kisser. “You can take that kiss and shove it up your ass sweetheart.” He goes to touch his face and finds blood.

“Okay bitch how did you do that you not human or something?” “As far as I'm concerned One hundred percent.” “Ha okay that was some good entertainment thanks. Boys, why don't you kill her and then you two will fight to the death and whoever wins gets to be with me forever.” Wait what? Oh shit. They start to circle me. “Little Y/n/n the bane of our existence. I mean Sam and I have always had to hold your hand through everything. It's pathetic right Sammy.” “Yeah, Dean I mean we would have such a better life if she wasn't here.” “Then let's take care of her.” Dean said running at me. I dodge it good thing they taught me to fight men two times their size. Somehow, I got knocked out by one of them. “Y/n Y/n!!!” I was being shaken awake. It was Bobby. I was confused. “Bobby what happened?” I said and standing behind Bobby were my two brothers looking Sad.

================================================

It was the next day, and no one was really talking. Bobby came from his car handing us sodas as in telling us he was happy that we were okay well physically. “Thanks, Bobby. You know, if you hadn't shown up when you did…” Sam said not wanting to finish his sentence. “Done the same for me, more than once. Course, you coulda picked up the phone. Only took one call to figure out that Agent Nick Munroe wasn't real.” Yeah, not real neither was he liking me. “You guys gunna be, OK?” I didn't say anything. I was hurt not just from the fight. “Y/n?”

“Mmhh of course always am.” I was lying to myself, and everyone knew it. “See ya.  You know, those sirens are nasty things. That it got to you, that's no reason to feel bad.” He got in his car and drove away wishing I was with him. “You gunna say goodbye to Cara?” Dean asked Sam apparently, they had got into a different type of research. “What's the point?” “Well, look at you. Love 'em and leave 'em.” “Y/n, look, you know we didn't mean the things we said back there, right? That it was just the siren's spell talking?” “Yeah, me too.” It was more silence like we knew we were all lying. “'Kay. So... so we're all good?” Sam said, looking at both of us because he and Dean had their own nasty fight. “Yeah, we're good.” Another lie. 

================================================

That was it, I hoped you liked it! Wow this chapter was a lot more intense than my others and we didn't get much Cas because I thought it should be a more sibling relationship chapter, but I still got a scene of him caring and maybe a little jealous because CAS. The name I used for the fake agent's name was ode to Diana Ross like how Sam and Dean do classic singers all the time. I'm trying to progress Y/n’s and Cas’s relationship not too fast and not too slow so hopefully I'm dealing with that okay. I'm so excited we are just getting closer and closer to the season finale which is crazy. As always thank you for reading and the likes. If anyone wants to be added to the tag list, just ask nicely in the commits.

@vfandom hope you liked it!

[bluesylveon2]

I am DEEPLY enjoying this event. #41 with Rook Hunt please (bonus points if MC is a singer)

This was lowkey kinda fun to write because it made me think about one specific tiktok. I hope that you enjoy!

Word Count: 958

Notes: modern au and chaos

Warning: not beta read and possible ooc characters

Being at the gym at night was Yuu's dream. No one was there since it was late and it was quiet. There was barely anyone there, and Yuu could count how many with one hand. 

One of Yuu's favorite things was hopping in the shower and singing like she was a pop star. There were barely any women there, often leaving Yuu to sing as long as she wanted. It's not like the poor guy working up front cared anyway. 

Yuu happily hummed the newest song released by her favorite artist as she made her way to her designated stall with her stuff. Despite no one there at the time, Yuu liked to go in one specific shower because it was far enough from the entrance to give her privacy. The girl continued her humming as her body automatically moved to her shower. She opened Magicfy on her phone, and music filled the empty stall as she placed it back in the caddy. 

I know a place

Where the grass is really greener

Warm, wet n' wild

There must be something in the water

Yuu got lost in the song and loudly sang as she cleaned herself. No one was there or listening, so Yuu did not care. Little did she know about the other presence entering the shower room.

"Now, what do we have here…" A man, who was also naked, said aloud. 

California girls

We're undeniable

Fine, fresh, fierce

We got it on lock

West coast represent

Now put your hands up

"Ooh, oh ooh."

"Ooh oh ooh," A male voice sang along, causing Yuu to freeze. The music played, and the male sang in the background as Yuu slowly turned to face the frosted glass door. 

"Why are you on the female's side?!" Yuu yelled out, causing the male to stop singing.

"Female? Non you got it all wrong, mademoiselle. This is the male's side."

"No, it's not. I can prove it to you," Yuu said, stepping towards the door.

"Wait! I'm-" The door opened, causing the man to stumble from how close he was standing. To regain his balance, he reached out to something, which happened to be Yuu, and fell.

"What happened?" Yuu placed her hands down on something hard and pushed herself up. She froze when her eyes landed on her hands resting on a toned chest, blonde hair splayed out on the floor, a handsome face and a very naked man under her looking at her in shock. She did not even want to look down to see what was down there. 

Wait…

"AHHH!" Yuu screamed as she struggled to stand up and jump away from the blonde like he was on fire. She immediately grabbed her towel to wrap around herself and her shower caddy. 

“Je suis désolé, mademoiselle!” He attempted to go to her, but Yuu moved away. "I tried to warn you earlier-"

"That was my fault! I should have looked where I was going! I'm so sorry about that!" Yuu yelled and made a beeline to the door, leaving a confused but blushing man behind.

---

It had been a week since "the incident," and Yuu wanted nothing more than to not see that man again. She had decided to burn and hide that memory in a deep part of her brain where no one, except herself and a divine being, could see it. 

Yuu stepped inside of the cafe and took a deep breath. According to her friend, Trey, Rook, his coworker, was very eccentric. Rook had moved from France to work in Crewel Research, one of the best-known research laboratories in the world. Yuu tapped her fingers against the table while waiting for her date with Rook. Trey had insisted that Rook would be a good fit for her as they shared common interests like science (not to the extreme like Trey and Rook) and the arts. Yuu thought Rook was interesting enough to meet as he is known for seeing beauty in everything. 

The sound of a bell jingling caused Yuu to look up. Her smile immediately faded as her eyes landed on the same blonde male she had been trying to forget for a week. 

What is he doing here?? Yuu thought as she was coming up with her escape plan. She was considering just running out when the man met her eyes. His eyes lit up, and he smiled as he headed toward her. 

"Mayday! Mayday! ABORT MISSION! ABORT!" Yuu's mind screamed at her, but her body refused to move. 

Yuus heart pounded against her chest as The man stopped beside the empty seat. “Bonjour, you are Yuu, non?”

Yuu opened her mouth to say no when she realized something. "How do you know my name?"

The man chuckled and held a hand out to the empty chair, looking at Yuu expectantly. Yuu hesitantly nodded and let the man sit. "Trey mentioned you a lot at work, and you are as beautiful as I imagined."

Yuu's eyes widen, and her mouth opens in an "o." The world must be laughing at her now because the man she was trying to forget was sitting in front of her right now, and that means-

"Wait…are you Rook? Trey's coworker?"

Rook smiled and held a hand out to Yuu, His green eyes gleaming. "Oui. We started on an interesting note before, so let me introduce myself properly. I am Rook Hunt, and you are?"

"Yuu Crowley, Yuu replied and shook her hand with his.

Rook smiled as he brought Yuu's hand up and lightly kissed her knuckles, causing the girl to blush. "What a beautiful name, Yuu. I look forward to our date."

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[jewbeloved]

Hello hello!I am back with an empty brain bc i have no ideas but this goofy one: How would main four+Team craig(if its too much,you can just write for main four!)react to their s/o making really good edits of them.

Team Stan + Clyde and Tweek with a s/o who makes edits of them✏️✏️🎨🎨

Note: Sorry! I can only write up to 6 characters maximum. I hope this post still satisfies you.

Warnings: None

Gender: Neutral

❤️🧡 The Main Four 💚💙

Let's imagine you had a social media account that nobody knew, not even your boyfriends..

You post edits on there but each and every one of them always include one of the boys.

The boys always wondered why you were so invested on your phone and you wouldn't let them look at it.

"Guys I think Y/n is looking at hentai stuff" Cartman whispered while snorting.

"No they're not Cartman! knock it off!"

"Maybe it's something important that they don't want us to see guys"

"There's no way that they are keeping stuff from us Stan, we know their secrets and they know ours"

They continued to bicker back and forth until Butters ran up to them.

"Fellas!....Fellas!" Butters panted while trying to regain his breath.

"What do you want Butters, can't you see we are busy at the moment!"

"Yeah I know, but you guys are going viral on the Internet!"

Butters showed them the edits on his phone.

"What?"

"There are edits of us..?"

*muffles* (Woah, I look good in this one!)

Cartman stared at the phone for a moment before looking at Butters.

"Where did you get these edits Butters"

"Well...I didn't get these I just only saw them on this site called TikTok! you guys can find them on there" Butters ran off to go show the other kids the edits leaving the boys staring at him in confusion.

"Okay....so somebody is making random edits of us"

So yeah, they definitely wanted to find out who was making these edits of them-

After looking at the account, the first person they decided to ask about it was you.

You tried to play it cool and pretend that you had no idea who was making them, but the only one who saw through your lies was Cartman.

C'mon, Cartman is the master at lying and manipulation. It'll take more than that to lie to him.

"I'm not buying it, you were very suspicious from the very start anyways Y/n"

"Huh?"

*Muffles* (You were always being secretive on your phone, and then all of a sudden certain edits being made of us were going viral. Is this your doing?)

"Let us see your phone Y/n!" Cartman moved closer to grab your phone but you back up quickly against the wall.

"You guys are mistaken! It's not me!"

You were unfortunately out of luck since they crowded and prevented you from escaping while Cartman snatched your phone and they took a look at it.

After looking through your phone, they turn their heads to face you.

"Here..." Cartman handed you back your phone and you took a sec to see that their cheeks were tinted with pink.

"Are you guys upset at me..?"

"No we are not, the edits are really cute... were just upset that you never told us from the beginning"

They were indeed disappointed that you hid your account from them like you didn't had any trust in them.

But however, they love the edits!

You could personally say that they are glad no random weirdo was making them besides you <3 💙💚🧡❤️

❤️ Clyde Donovan 🍂

He probably wouldn't even notice it was you in the first place either.

He might even act like he made them himself to act a little cool, but of course the person saw through his ways and didn't believe him.

When the edits start getting more popular, he would immediately go to you and talk about how famous he has gotten and you knew that the cause of that was the edits you've been making of him.

If he does find out, he would be very shocked about it.

"Huh?! You were the one making those edits the whole time Y/n?!"

"Yeah...I thought it would've been cool to make them, but I originally planned to only make them for myself I didn't think a whole bunch of people would view it...."

Clyde didn't know exactly what to say, he was completely out of words!

You opened your mouth to say something again until your interrupted when Clyde tackled you into a hug making you both fall onto the floor.

"C-Clyde?!" You found him on top of you giving you a warm smile before leaning down to give you a peck on the lips.

"I think the edits you made of me are wonderful and cute! but I don't appreciate that you used photos that had me crying in it....as a matter of fact why would you take a picture of me crying anyways?!"

You stayed silent before starting to laugh.

Clyde glared at you for a moment before he smiled again and started to laugh with you.

It looks like he doesn't mind after all...❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

💛 Tweek Tweak 🎀

He probably might take it the wrong way around to be honest-

He may even have flashbacks to those yaoi arts from him being shipped with Craig.

Tons of freaking out 100%

But that doesn't mean he fully knows who is making the edits.

If he finds out that it's you, he would be very flustered and confused on why exactly you wanted to make edits of him in the first place.

He's hesitant at first, but he might confront you about it at the last minute tbh-

"Ehm..Y/n? why are you ACK! m-making edits of me...?"

"Why? I couldn't resist how adorable you would look in multiple edits! I apologize for not asking you for permission earlier though, I just couldn't help myself Tweek <3"

"Ah....! Y/n....." Tweek's heart cried out in embarrassment while covering his face that is tinted in red.

"Are the edits bothering you? I can stop making them If you want I don't really mind!" You were about to delete the draft of the edit you were currently making.

"No! don't! I don't really mind since it's ACK! you..."

"Are you sure?"

"Y-yeah!"

Yeah, he really doesn't mind you making the edits, but he hopes nobody else will start making them too.

Or else it might turn out like the Tweek x Craig situation-💛💛💛💛💛💛

South park never offends me 😌👌👌

[dullahandyke]

Ok hi I'm back playing dgs for the second half of the first trial

I meant to say before but I rlly enjoy how pivotal the setting is to this trial!! Obvi they didnt jusr pick it for shits and giggles but I'm liking the tension that the British presence provides

Also seeing susato so quiet in all these opening bits is so strange... susato toss :(?

AW YEAH ASOUGI GRABBING HIS SWORD W SAMURAI ON A MISSION PLAYING !!!! love this guy hope nothing bad ever happens to him

Love how auchi is trying to guilt ryuu over anglo-japanese relations and asougis just like lollllll fuck em... anti-british king

YESSS RYUU YOU GET HIM TOO!!! Fuck the government <3

NOOOO I JUST LOST A BUNCH OF LIVEBLOG BCOS MY PHONE GUCKED UP... anyway I'm up to the handbag thing

God they really pull out the 2-4 despair sprite any opportunity they can huh

'Asougis dream of going to Britain is fucked if we lose this' bro I thought itd b fine as long as he wasnt the lawyer. Was all that shit for nothjng

Yesss ryuu objecting just before the verdict... love him

Love ryuus little thinking face... + his hand guard thing... hes so the thinker

Love how as the trial progresses ryuu gets more sprites .. hes hardly even bug eyed anymore

Boooo brett we hate youuu why'd you even study in Japan if you're just gonna b racist abt every part of it

Also tbh idk where we're going with this train of thinking but its fun

My God is it poison and she kristoph gavins her way into a conviction... kristoph gavinning is when u make glib comments about details of a case that lead to your conviction btw

'I'm sure you've noticed this student doesnt miss much' asougi is showing off ryuus talents like a little pony thay can do a canter and tbh awesime

Help me one of her rebuttals is 'your flys been down this whole time' ❓❓❓ ryuu..... 'why didnt you tell me asougi' why do YOU assume asougis looking at your dick ryuu. 🤨

Shes pulling out the 'your brains are smaller than Europeans' shit my God.... can we like kill her kill her

Ok I think Brett poisoned Wilson and then stole the glass to cover her tracks before shooting him to pin ryuu... we r gonna update her autopsy report

No hang on wait that's such a stupid fucking plan. What if hosonaga noticed Wilson was dead. What if ryuu DIDNT notice the gun. If Wilson's wrist was burned on the plate then surely it was set in front of him but part of the beef is eaten so Brett must have had some. I guess thatd probably be better for alibi shit by having it look like h3 was in the middle of eating when shot instead of before being served but like. Was she leaning over the table stretching w a knife and fork to cut off a bit of steak. Girls gotta eat ig

Love that theres an exchange where ryuu goes 'this is great auchi agrees that the police r fucked' and asougi goes 'no ryuu hes clout chasing to impress a European woman. Hes just like bisexual obama'

Asougi picking up his sword as he prepares to 'pursue' hosonaga's statement... asougi r u going to kill this man

Hosonaga that is illegal

'What does this French writing say asougi' 'idk go to France and ask' hes such a bit of a bitch I love it <3

Also I'm looking at the back of hosonaga's pants when it does the panning shot and why r they so baggy at the ankles... bro hes tall as shit does he shop at the slenderman store

SUSATOOOOOOOOO SUSATO IS HERE@!!!! AW YISS LETS GO

Oh my God another fucking to be continued? I thought this was the last part bro enenensjs so I'm gonna take a break for a bit and then go back to killing jezaille brett dead