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trulycertain · 4 days ago

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On Dragon Age & Accents

(My unhelpful tuppence, as an English player.)

One small thing I wish had come up in Veilguard from previous games: the accent worldbuilding. It wasn't always consistent - DA:O only seemed to care about country or race, anyone non-human being generically North American and anyone human being mostly RP English unless they were Antivan; for regional accents, they seemed to purely use them for effect or go with VAs' natural ones. (There are about two bandit NPCs who seem to have badly-done Midlands English accents purely because they're not meant to be very bright; thanks, love Canadians reinforcing that stereotype. Anders being Lancashire seems to be pure coincidence because of his voice actor - you rarely ever hear the accent in any consistent way in other NPCs, and it's completely ignored in his very Southern DA2 recast.)

But by DA2, there seemed to be definite trends: Free Marches could be RP English or North American depending where you came from; dwarves tended to sound North American but there were exceptions for some people raised on the surface; elves tended to be either Welsh or Irish, which matches the "very old culture with a linguistically completely different root from Trade/English". Starkhaven is most definitely Scots.

And then DAI! DAI, my love.

DAI kept DA2's trends, while finally giving us more complexity and regional accents, albeit limitedly (and still with some inconsistencies). Finally, we have a (vaguely Germanic) Nevarran accent! And Miranda Raison did such careful work constructing it! The Avvar, Ferelden's mountain folk, sound Northern English. I'd hazard a guess that several sound Yorkshire, actually - this matches the whole "the Orlesians got up there less" lore in real terms; Northern England and Scotland, particularly Yorkshire, was under Viking rule longer than the South, which became Norman-conquered earlier, and there are subtle dialectal differences to this day. (Similar thing happened with the Celts and Romans, and the Avvar are blatantly Celtic and Pictish). There's a reason that RP ("neutral posh") English is Southern, from the seats of power. Cullen's from Honnleath, somewhere smaller and less Orlesianified, and while it's softened by the character's travel and the VA's own posher bents, there are moments the Northern English accent gets leaned into, a little similarity with the Avvar. It's a coincidence but it works so well, lore-wise. Sera's VA sounds... Derbyshire? I think? which is Midlands/Northern border and sounds more than Northern enough to keep a consistent Fereldan sound. And in terms of NPCs? A lot of Fereldan NPCs suddenly start turning up Northern, albeit less broad in their accents! Have a listen round the Crossroads. I remember Gaider mentioning Dorian wasn't originally meant to be Indian, they sealed it for sure when they cast Ramon Tikaram, at which point everyone went, "Yup, let's run with it", cast his dad accordingly, and Gaider figured that Dorian was either part of a pretty big migrant population (which, other than the Dorian Gray reference, the fact his name roughly means "from across the sea" also makes sense), or quite a lot of Tevene folk natively were. Considering Tevinter started as essentially "mage Rome" and morphed into, even according to the writers themselves, "mage Byzantium" and it's very close to Seheron, which I feel is North Africa/Middle East influenced - Tevene folk being akin to folk of Turkish, Middle Eastern, Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Sri Lankan and Bengali backgrounds makes a ton of sense.

It is... exceedingly rare to hear working-class British accents in fantasy series at all (unless Brits make them, and then we're still often peasants or generic NPC #2, a la Origins). It is even rarer to have a fantasy series bother to keep immigrant accents and show the moulding of them through the generations. And I can only think of one other video game that has consciously cast British Asian actors, that's how rare it is even in games that supposedly care about representation - despite the fact that Asian folk make up something like 30% of our population.

Now: would I like some more background on why some accents in the Marches sound British and some don't? Yup! Would I have liked to have more regions in the elves' Irish accents and the dwarves' NA? Yup! But do those really matter? Nope! They would have been lovely icing on the cake, but the underlying cake was great. The plot didn't need it. It didn't have to be perfect, and the filtering of British culture through Canadians, and strategic anachronism? Those are things I love about Dragon Age. I loved how much they seemed to be trying and how much they were thinking about the lore. And I loved hearing a "British accent" that finally made sense to me, not played into the long attempts by toffs to stamp out everything North of London or outside England.

And then Veilguard sort of... forgot about it most of it? Adored that we could play as a Geordie! I really, really love them continuing pointed casting of folk with British Asian ancestry for several Tevinters (*waves lovingly at elek and neve*). But then... uh... look! Working-class Tevene people with generic Mancunian accents! To show they're working-class! That's fantastic progress... for Origins. But lore-wise, by DATV we've already shown that Manchester and Northern English accents live... *points at Ferelden* somewhere over there. We're back to "Tevinters mostly sound like generically evil English folk", as in DAO and bits of 2, which, sure, Dorian doesn't contradict - but then why not have everyone sound Southern, like him? Or add a different tint to it? And no, I am not saying everyone should put on bad "ethnic" accents, and I do appreciate the number of American, English and Mediterranean accents in Tevinter showing a very Roman "you're a citizen of the Imperium but you might have been born in one of its several countries" - but…

Gideon Emery's slight Afrikaans tint made a ton of sense with Fenris and what part of Tevinter he was meant to be from, even if it was unintentional; Jennifer Hale's take on Krem was going for English but came out more Aussie to my ear. Something like those could have been really interesting. But that also means that, including Fenris, we've now had several slaves with an accent that reads... quite posh, to English ears. Same with Neve, who is supposedly proudly from the shithole part of Minrathous, but she and several others have very RP "posh" accents (while others like Tarquin and Elek are Mancunian). Now, not everyone picks up their local accent! I am one of those people! I ended up cursedly plummy for a long time! But... we had hints through the series that Tevinter class markers would be very different from Fereldans', but they're now the same, for some reason?

Add that to the fact that they didn't want to make even one VA suffer through doing the Nevarran accent... See, it makes total sense for Emmrich, who's a posh professor who's done a lot of international study and would probably have learned Common as a second language with a very generic, "neutral" accent; he also was very concerned about appearances with his class background and trained himself not to give much away. And I'm sure the Mourn Watch has international students. But no Nevarran NPCs sound pointedly Nevarran? Not a one? Kal Sharok has hints of something interesting going on but it's rare, and the Anderfels is just... full of sad English and American-sounding people. Rivain is supposedly Caribbean and there are a bunch of actors of Caribbean descent they could've cast, but we only have one NPC sound even slightly so? That's when it stops being "Trade is taught with a neutral accent and there are a lot of Fereldan immigrants and slaves in Tevinter" and starts feeling handwavey.

Basically: I wouldn't mind if we'd gone with most fantasy games' "Eh, we cast broadly based on sound, stereotype or none of the above"; I'm very happy to just go with it. However, DAI told me to pay vague attention because the accents meant something. Then DATV has heel-turned and is telling me "Nah, go with it" the way Origins did. My ears are... confused, to say the least. And we're back to "'working-class' has one accent, and characters with something to say who aren't cast as stereotypically plucky underdogs are all Southern and posh", which just... makes me really sad. I don't hear people who sound like me, my family, or my friends growing up, in Dragon Age anymore. I did hear they had a different voice director in DATV, so maybe it's that?

#veilguard critical #dragon age inquisition #dragon age #meta #ie me rambling #it's a 'mildly critical' i think?#it's not a big part of the game and i doubt many people noticed. it doesn't ruin anything. i just miss some bonus things #folks who are scottish/irish/welsh/canadian/usian please nudge me if i've got something wrong or you want me to include something #there are some accents i can't hear nearly as well in terms of picking out regions so this is very much missing info in parts i think #tru plays veilguard

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urfavlarry · 7 months ago

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hi! can u write about a drunk love confession lolll 😭🎀

Why’d you only call me when your high?

Joost Klein x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, bad grammar, mentions of alc0hol

summary: you and Joost have been friends for a few years now but ever since he got more recognized after his song ‘friesenjung’ came out you both became more distant. What will you do after he calls you for the first time in months, drunk?

A/N: this is um.. long .. enjoy!

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You were alone in the house, your parents went off to the neighbours to go grilling. You decided to not go since you were doing things with them the whole day and you just felt exhausted. You went to cook yourself a quick meal, just some toast with whatever on top. You looked at the time, 10:28PM. Joost was performing currently in Amsterdam, not that you knew anything about it. He was probably going to get a few drinks with friends after it like he usually did after his last concert of the season. He has probably long forgot about you, probably replacing you with someone else by now. Ever since he became more famous, you both stopped reaching out as often. There wasn’t any hate behind it, Joost wasn’t the type to cut people off because of fame which you loved about him and you missed him dearly you just.. drifted apart?

You went back up to your room, deciding to go to sleep early tonight, opening the window for some cool air to come into the room. The covers called your name, snuggling into them and getting comfortable. You fall asleep a few minutes later, the room was dark and the wind entered your room like an unwelcome guest, goosebumps appearing on your skin.

A buzzing noise wakes you up, your phone lighting up and blinding your tired eyes. You try and get up, body still a bit weak since you woke up about 5 seconds ago. You grab your phone and your heart skips a beat, the name “duck” appearing on your phone. It was a nickname you gave to Joost years ago. You were teens, trying to make up nicknames for each other and you just took the word dutch and turned it into duck. You watch it ring for a few seconds and then sigh, cursing a bit then pick it up. “Hello?” You say, your voice raspy and very tired sounding. “Hallo?” You hear the dutch accent you oh so loved come through the phone. “Hello, hello.” You turn around and lay on your stomach, waiting for him to speak. The noises in the background were loud and clear, loud music coming through the phone. “Is dat het meisje waar je het over had?” (Is that the girl you were talking about?) “ja ja ga nu..” (yea yea, go now.)

He shifted around before he spoke again. “Sorry, what’s up?” You raise a brow, was this some kind of phone call you get from your dad once a year? “Nothing much, why are you calling me?” He chuckles, voice deep and handsome like always. “Can I not call mijn liefde?” (my love) “What are you on about Joost? Are you drunk?” “No, no.” He slurs, making you scoff. “Yeah, yeah.” He was mumbling things in dutch you couldn’t understand; “Ik wil niemand anders dan jou.. mijn lief meisje.” (I want no one else but you.. my sweet girl.) “Fucking hell Joost.. where the hell are you? Is Apson with you?” He nods, which you barely heard but at least he gave you an answer. Apson would mostly stay sober, only having a few drinks so you decided to call him. He picked up, voice cheerful like always. You told him to take Joost home since he sounded like he had enough for the night and he kindly agreed. You thank him, ending the call with him before trying to go back to sleep.

3:07AM, another phone call wakes you up. “What the fuck is wrong with him..” You ask yourself before picking up. “Joost it’s 3AM can you go to sleep?” You demand and he just smiles. Oh yeah you were on face time now, great. You looked like a zombie compared to him, he looked more energetic than you did, his hair wet and it looked like he was shirtless. Probably just got out of the shower. “I wanted to see your stunning face schatje.” He says, laying down on his side, the side of his face resting against a pillow.

You sigh, watching him like a hawk. The light coming from his side of the phone blinded you, making you groan. “What do you want? I’m exhausted from your bullshit.” You say and he pouts; “Why are you so mean, hm? Do you not miss me?” He asks, smiling, his adorable, genuine smile. “Joost stop it.” He chuckled, moving around in his room when he suddenly turned his lights off, the only light that let you see his face was from his LEDs. He started mumbling things again, his voice lulling you to sleep but you fought back the urge to sleep. “Jij bent zo schitterend..” (you’re so stunning) “Joost I’m hanging up.” “No, no.. Blijf bij me.” (stay with me) “Ik wil je Y/N.” (I want you Y/N.) “Ik krijg je niet uit mijn hoofd.” (I can’t get you out of my head.) All of these things meant nothing to you. You didn’t speak dutch, maybe a few phrases and words but you weren’t fluent. You brushed off all of those phrases, when he said the one thing he taught you during your time as close friends. “Ik hou van jou lieverd.” (I love you sweetheart.)

You face turned bright red, quickly hanging up and flipping onto your back. Your eyes were wide eyed, staring at the dark ceiling above you. You internally scream, maybe he meant it in a friendly way? But the nickname?? It was weird. He was just drunk after all, it probably didn’t even mean anything. You try to fall asleep, tossing and turning before finally succeeding.

Morning came quicker than usual, making your stomach turn and face feel hot. You didn’t even dare open your phone, deciding to pack your things and head home to Amsterdam a little earlier than expected. You booked a flight, canceling the one you were supposed to take 3 days later then this one.

The minute you got home you opened the messages. Some were from last night and some were from a few minutes ago. You tried replying but no words were coming to mind, your fingers just hovering above the cold screen.

———————————————————

Duck🦆💙

Y/N

Hello??

why did u hang up hm?

blijf bij me

please

ik krijg je niet uit mijn hoofd

sent 16 hours ago

————————— new messages —————————

Y/N

Im so sorry I woke u up yesterday

I was drunk haha

hope to see u soon, today Im performing in that club we used to go to as teens

ill look for u after

———————————————————

You contemplated whether to go or not. You wanted to see him, but another part of you didn’t. Why should you be the one running back to him? It made no sense to you, yet you went. It was like you were in a daze, getting ready, taking the train to the city he was performing in.. it all felt forced in a way. You got stopped by a few fans then made your way to the barrier. You bought a ticket last minute most people already in the club waiting for their idol to come up on stage. 15 minutes until it started, you felt disgusting. Sweaty fan girls who never heard of a shower were all around you, all you wanted to do was curl yourself into a ball and dissapear on the spot. It will be so akward talking after almost a year of barely knowing of each other’s pressence yet you still wanted to see him, hug him.. kiss him.

The concert went by fast, you and Joost making eye contact several times which made you even more anxious than you were before. You walked back stage, most of the security recognising you and letting you pass which surprised you. The halls felt endless, walking in front of his door you gently knocked almost instantly hearing footsteps. And there he was. He changed a lot. His hair was now longer, looking more mature but he was still there. Your Joost. “Weren’t you supposed to be the one looking for me?” He rubbed his neck, chuckling awkwardly before pulling you into the room. It looked like he was trying to find the right words to start which made you count down the dreadful seconds going by.

“Well, what I said yesterday was true. I don’t remember all of it but from the messages I said it was pretty obvious. I really do love you and I hate that you aren’t by my side. I hate that I can’t wake up with you in my arms. I miss you. I miss your smile, your energy, I miss hearing your thoughts, I miss everything about you. Liefje please I need you I can’t live without you.” He looked at you with those beautiful ocean blue eyes, looking desperate but it was obvious he truly meant every single word. You smile softly, cupping his cheeks. “I love you too. You have no idea how much I’ve been missing you. It was like a part of my heart was taken away from me.” He kissed your forehead, smiling down at you. “I promise to never leave you. Never.” “Promise.”

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#joost klein fanfiction #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joostice for joost #joost x reader #justice for joost #joost klein #free joost #stand with joost #joost klein requests #joost klein x y/n

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reidmarieprentiss · 4 months ago

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Hookups & Holdouts

Summary: Spencer is casually seeing your friend, but is there something going on between you and him as well?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, mild angst

Warnings/Includes: bisexual Spencer Reid (it's canon to me), having a crush on your friends fwb, tension, Spencer is just a man, forced encounters

Word count: 7.7k

a/n: unfortunately i have been the reader in this situation ........

main masterlist

The night was buzzing with the energy of the bar, the kind of place where the music vibrated through the floors, and the chatter of conversations created a constant hum. You had gone out with your coworkers for a much-needed night of unwinding after a particularly stressful week. It was supposed to be a night of letting loose, but instead, your thoughts were consumed by someone you had met not too long ago—Spencer.

Your mind drifted to the first time you met him. It was at a small get-together hosted by Anders, a close friend of yours who had been seeing Spencer for a while now. You hadn't expected to hit it off with Spencer as much as you did, especially since you thought he was strictly into men. But as the night went on, you found yourself drawn to his quirky intelligence, his sharp wit, and the way his eyes seemed to light up when he talked about something he was passionate about.

You quickly became friends, texting back and forth until it became a regular part of your day. It was during one of these late-night text exchanges that you learned Spencer was bisexual. Your heart had done a little flip at that revelation, but you quickly shoved your feelings aside, convincing yourself that Spencer was head over heels for Anders. After all, they were sleeping together, and Anders was obviously very into him.

But now, as you sipped your drink and scanned the bar, you spotted Spencer at a table with a group of people who had to be his coworkers. Your heart skipped a beat. You had heard a lot about them from Spencer—Derek, JJ, Emily—but seeing them in person was something else entirely. You were about to wave and call out to him when Spencer’s eyes found yours first. He smiled that familiar smile, the one that always made your stomach do somersaults, and excused himself from his group.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Spencer greeted you as he approached, his voice warm and teasing.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the smartest guy in the room,” you replied with a grin, trying to hide how your pulse quickened just being around him.

“I don’t know about that,” Spencer said, downplaying your compliment in that self-deprecating way he always did. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” You motioned to the empty stool next to you.

The two of you quickly fell into your usual rhythm, talking about everything from work to the latest books you were reading. But as the conversation flowed, you couldn’t help the little quips that started slipping out, your nerves getting the better of you.

“So, how’s Anders? You two still having fun?” you asked, trying to sound casual but feeling a twinge of something uncomfortable as you brought him up.

Spencer chuckled lightly, a sound that didn’t reach his eyes. “Anders is… fine. He’s fun to be around, I guess.”

You raised an eyebrow at his tone. “You guess? Come on, Spencer, the guy’s practically in love with you.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the edge of his glass. “Anders is… nice. But, uh, he’s not really my type.”

That took you by surprise. You thought for sure that Spencer was into Anders—why else would he keep seeing him? “Not your type? You’ve been sleeping with him for weeks.”

“Yeah, well… sometimes people do things for reasons other than love,” Spencer said, his voice dropping slightly. He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read, a mix of vulnerability and something else that made your heart race.

You suddenly felt a bit silly for bringing it up, but you couldn’t stop the words from coming out. “So, what’s wrong with him? Not smart enough for you?”

Spencer let out a small laugh, but there was no real amusement behind it. “Something like that. He’s just… we don’t connect on a deeper level, you know? It’s all very surface-level.”

You nodded, biting your lip as you processed his words. “I see. So, no chance of you two becoming anything serious, then?”

Spencer hesitated before answering, his gaze locking onto yours. “Honestly? I’m not looking for anything serious with Anders. I’m just… I don’t know, trying to figure things out. I think he knows that.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized what he was saying. Anders wasn’t who Spencer really wanted. But then who was? The question hung heavy in the air between you, but you were too scared to ask it out loud. Instead, you deflected, cracking a joke to cover up the awkwardness.

“Well, if you’re not looking for serious, maybe I should set you up with my other friend. They’re even more clueless than Anders.”

Spencer’s eyes crinkled with a small smile, but there was a hint of frustration in them. “You really think that’s what I’m after? Clueless fun?”

You shrugged, trying to keep the mood light despite the tightness in your chest. “Isn’t that what everyone wants?”

Spencer sighed, leaning closer to you. His voice was soft, almost hesitant. “No. Not everyone.”

Your heart raced, a mix of hope and fear swirling in your chest. The last thing you wanted was to face the possibility that you weren’t what Spencer was looking for. The thought of getting hurt, of not being enough, was too much to bear. So, like you always did when things got too real, you joked.

“Well, when you meet a man who doesn’t want that, send them my way,” you said with a forced laugh, trying to brush off the weight of the moment.

Spencer’s expression faltered for just a split second, but you caught it—the brief flicker of disappointment in his eyes before he quickly masked it. He straightened up, the space between you widening as he pulled back. The connection you had just felt so deeply seemed to fray at the edges, unraveling as the conversation shifted back to safer, more casual topics.

“Yeah, sure,” Spencer replied, his tone light, almost too light. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

The easygoing smile he offered didn’t quite reach his eyes, and you could tell he was retreating, closing himself off. Your stomach twisted in regret, but you couldn’t bring yourself to backtrack, to admit that you had only been joking out of fear.

Instead, you followed his lead, letting the conversation drift back to mundane things—the latest case he had been working on, the books you both had been reading, the random, everyday things that were usually so comforting. But now, every word felt like a reminder of what you might have just lost, of the opportunity that had slipped through your fingers.

As the night wore on, you found yourself laughing and talking as you always did with Spencer, but there was a heaviness in the air that neither of you acknowledged. The easy rapport you had was still there, but it was tinged with something unsaid, something that had almost been spoken but was now buried beneath the surface.

When it was time to part ways, Spencer walked you to the door, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. You felt the tension in the air, the unspoken words hanging between you like a thick fog.

“Thanks for hanging out tonight,” he said, his voice still carrying that light, casual tone.

“Yeah, it was fun,” you replied, forcing a smile.

There was a brief pause, a moment where you both stood there, just looking at each other. You wanted to say something, to take back your earlier joke, to tell him how you really felt. But the fear of rejection, of ruining what you already had, held you back.

Spencer gave you a small nod, then turned to leave. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. “See you around.”

As you watched him walk away, disappearing into the night, you couldn’t help but feel the sting of regret. You had missed your chance, and now you were left wondering what could have been if you had just been brave enough to be honest.

—

The drive to Anders' place was filled with a mixture of nerves and determination. You had made up your mind; it was time to tell Anders the truth. He deserved to know that Spencer wasn't interested in him the way he wanted. It wasn’t fair for him to keep investing in something that wasn’t going anywhere. You hated the idea of hurting your friend, but it was better than letting him continue on, oblivious.

You pulled up to Anders' apartment, trying to shake off the unease that clung to you. The familiar routine of movie nights had always been a comfort, a way to unwind and relax. But tonight was different. Tonight, you were going to disrupt that comfort with harsh reality.

Taking a deep breath, you let yourself in, as you always did. Anders never minded; his place was practically your second home. You called out to announce your arrival, but the words caught in your throat when you saw the scene in front of you.

There, on the couch where you usually sat, was Spencer—completely naked, with an equally naked Anders in his lap. The image burned into your brain, your eyes widening in shock as you tried to process what you were seeing.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” you yelled, immediately spinning around to face the door, your heart racing in your chest. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, embarrassment and shock battling for dominance in your mind.

Anders, ever the carefree spirit, just giggled. The sound was light, airy, completely unfazed by the situation. “Hey, babe, what are you doing here?” he asked casually, as if you hadn’t just walked in on him in the middle of a very intimate moment.

“Uh—you asked if I wanted to watch a movie tonight!” you stammered, still refusing to turn around, your eyes fixed firmly on the door. Your mind was racing, trying to figure out how to extricate yourself from this incredibly awkward situation without making it worse.

“Oh, right!” Anders said, his voice full of realization. “I totally forgot. We, uh, kind of got distracted.” He let out another giggle, as if this whole thing was just a minor inconvenience.

Spencer, on the other hand, was silent. You could feel the tension radiating from him, and it only made your discomfort grow. You wanted to disappear, to erase the last few minutes from existence. But there was no undoing what had just happened.

“I—uh, I’ll just go,” you mumbled, reaching for the door handle, desperate to escape.

“No, wait!” Anders called out, but you were already halfway out the door. The last thing you wanted was to stick around and make things even more awkward.

You bolted down the hallway, not stopping until you were back in your car. Once inside, you sat there for a moment, your hands gripping the steering wheel as you tried to steady your breathing. The image of Spencer and Anders was still fresh in your mind, and you felt a wave of emotions crashing over you—embarrassment, guilt, sadness, and something else you couldn’t (or didn’t want to) name.

As you drove away, you couldn’t help but feel like the worst friend in the world. You had come to tell Anders the truth, to help him move on, but instead, you had just walked in on something that was probably better left unseen. And now, you didn’t know how you were going to face either of them again.

In the back of your mind, though, there was another thought, one that made your heart ache even more. You had seen Spencer in a way that only deepened your feelings for him, but you also knew, without a doubt, that he wasn’t yours to have. Not now. Not ever.

—

The days that followed the incident at Anders' apartment were some of the most confusing and emotionally draining you had ever experienced. Spencer's text message—I’m sorry you saw that. Are we okay?—had sat on your phone like a ticking time bomb. Every time you opened your messages, there it was, a stark reminder of what you’d witnessed, and what you couldn’t unsee. You had read it countless times, but every time, it made your chest tighten and your eyes burn with unshed tears. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, not yet. Not when everything felt so raw.

So you let it sit. And sit. Days turned into weeks, and you kept yourself distant from both Spencer and Anders. You barely texted Anders, showing up in his life only when absolutely necessary, and even then, you kept things as casual and distant as possible. Luckily, Anders didn’t seem to notice much, his naturally spaced-out personality giving you some breathing room. But you knew you couldn’t avoid him forever. Eventually, he would notice. Eventually, you would have to face him again.

And that day had come sooner than you would have liked. Anders had messaged you about another movie night, and you knew it was time to face the music. You agreed to come over, but you made sure to call from the parking lot, wanting to avoid any more unplanned surprises.

“Hey, I’m here,” you said into the phone, trying to keep your voice light as you sat in your car outside Anders' apartment.

“Great! Come on up, I’ve got the popcorn ready,” Anders replied, his usual cheerful tone making you feel a little guilty for having avoided him for so long.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to get out of the car and walk up to his apartment. Your nerves were on edge, but you told yourself it would be fine. You just had to get through this night, and then maybe things would start to feel normal again.

Once inside, you tried to focus on the task at hand, helping Anders get the snacks together in the kitchen. It was almost working—almost—until you heard the sound of the front door opening.

“Hey, lover!” Anders called out, his voice bright and playful.

Your heart sank, and you froze in place, your hand hovering over the bowl of chips you were holding. You didn’t need to turn around to know who had just walked in. That voice had been seared into your memory, and the way Anders greeted him left no doubt.

Spencer.

You could feel your pulse quicken, panic rising in your chest as you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You quickly busied yourself with the snacks, pretending you hadn’t heard, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, you could get through this without falling apart.

But then Spencer spoke, his voice soft and hesitant. “Hey… I didn’t know you’d be here.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing as you forced yourself to turn around. There he was, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking just as nervous and out of place as you felt. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, the weight of everything that had gone unsaid hanging heavily between you.

“Yeah, I, uh… I didn’t know either,” you finally managed to say, your voice sounding weaker than you intended. “Anders didn’t mention you were coming.”

Anders, completely oblivious to the tension in the room, just smiled and shrugged. “I thought it’d be fun to have both of you here. You’re my favorite people, after all.”

You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah, fun.”

Spencer’s gaze lingered on you, and you could see the concern in his eyes. He knew you hadn’t replied to his message, and he was waiting for some sign that things were okay. But you weren’t sure if they were. You weren’t sure if you could pretend that everything was fine when it wasn’t.

Anders, still blissfully unaware, handed you the bowl of popcorn. “Come on, let’s get started! I’ve been dying to watch this movie all week.”

You nodded, taking the bowl and heading to the living room, doing your best to avoid brushing against Spencer as you passed him. The three of you settled onto the couch—the same couch—and you couldn’t help but feel like you were in some twisted version of a love triangle. Except, in this version, you were the only one who felt like you were losing.

As the movie started, you found it nearly impossible to focus. Your mind kept drifting back to the moment in the kitchen, to the look in Spencer’s eyes, to the fact that you were sitting mere inches away from him, and yet it felt like there was a chasm between you.

Anders, as usual, was fully engrossed in the movie, laughing at all the right moments, completely at ease. You envied him for that, for being able to enjoy the night without the weight of unspoken feelings hanging over his head.

But then, halfway through the movie, Anders got a call and had to step out of the room, leaving you and Spencer alone together. The silence that followed was deafening, the tension in the air almost suffocating.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, glancing at you before speaking. “I’m really sorry about everything,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean for things to get so complicated.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that you were the one who had let things get complicated, but the words just wouldn’t come.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward between us,” Spencer continued, his voice soft. “I miss talking to you.”

That was it. The dam broke, and before you knew it, you were blinking back tears, trying desperately to keep them from falling. Your emotions, which you had kept bottled up for so long, suddenly became too much to bear.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you stood up abruptly, grabbing your things in a desperate bid to escape. You could feel Spencer’s eyes on you, full of concern and confusion, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. If you did, you knew you’d fall apart completely.

“Wait—” Spencer started to say, reaching out as if to stop you, but you shook your head, cutting him off.

“Tell Anders whatever you want,” you said, your voice firmer this time, but still laced with the pain you were trying so hard to hide. You couldn’t stay there, not with Spencer, not with the weight of your feelings suffocating you. The thought of facing Anders, of pretending everything was normal, was impossible.

And with that, you turned and walked out of the apartment, not giving Spencer a chance to respond. The door clicked shut behind you, and the moment you were outside, the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down your cheeks as you hurried to your car.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing with a mixture of regret, fear, and sadness. You had run away, leaving Spencer and Anders behind, but what else could you have done? Staying would have only prolonged the inevitable.

As you drove away, your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles turning white. You didn’t know what Spencer would say to Anders, or how your friend would react. But at that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had to get away, to put distance between yourself and the situation that had become too tangled, too painful.

When you finally reached the safety of your own home, you collapsed onto your couch, your body wracked with silent sobs. You had thought you could handle it, that you could push your feelings aside and just be friends with Spencer, but now you realized how wrong you had been.

You didn’t know what would happen next, but one thing was clear: you couldn’t go back to the way things were. Too much had changed, and the wound you carried was too deep to ignore. For now, all you could do was try to heal, even if it meant distancing yourself from the people you cared about most.

—

You sat on your couch, the weight of the evening pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the muted television you weren’t really watching. The events of the night replayed in your mind on a loop, your emotions a tangled mess of regret and confusion.

When your phone rang, you almost didn’t answer, but the sight of Anders' name on the screen made you pause. You felt a pang of guilt; you had left so abruptly, and he deserved better than that. With a sigh, you answered, bracing yourself for whatever was coming.

“Hey, babe!” Anders' voice was cheerful, completely unaware of the turmoil you were in. It was comforting and yet somehow made you feel worse.

“Hey, Andy,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, but the tension in your throat made it come out quieter than usual.

It started off as a typical conversation, Anders chatting away about his day, his plans for tomorrow, the usual banter that you were used to. You let him talk, responding here and there with murmurs of agreement, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the distance in your voice.

But then, as the conversation began to wind down, Anders asked the question you had been dreading, the one you had hoped wouldn’t come.

“So, what’s going on with you and Spencer?”

Your breath hitched, panic flaring up in your chest. “No—nothing,” you stammered, the words tumbling out before you could even think.

Anders, oblivious as ever, let out a light giggle, not cruel but definitely amused. “Babe, if you want to sleep with him too, it’s okay! Spencer and I talked, and he told me he’s not looking for anything serious. I’ll admit it hurt a bit, but I have a date tomorrow with a big hubba bubba daddy, so who cares!”

His words hit you like a truck, and it took everything in you to keep your voice steady. “Oh wow, I’m sorry, Andy,” you said, forcing out the words as your heart pounded in your chest. You couldn’t let him know how much this conversation was affecting you. “But, uh, I don’t want to sleep with Spencer, thanks though.”

Anders didn’t seem to notice your internal struggle. He immediately launched into a rant about his upcoming date, describing in vivid detail just how sexy his new interest was. He spoke with the same enthusiasm he had always had, the kind that was contagious and usually made you laugh along with him.

But tonight, you couldn’t muster the energy. You listened, letting his words wash over you, but your mind was elsewhere. The relief that Anders was so easily distracted by his new date was tinged with a deep sadness that you couldn’t shake. He had already moved on, while you were still stuck in the mire of your own emotions, unable to let go of the complicated feelings you had for Spencer.

As Anders continued to gush about his date, you found yourself nodding along, murmuring words of encouragement and support. You tried to sound as genuine as possible, hiding the cracks in your voice as best as you could. But inside, you were reeling.

Eventually, Anders wound down, his excitement tempered by the late hour. He bid you goodnight with a cheerful, “Wish me luck tomorrow!” and you returned the sentiment, your voice softer than usual.

When the call ended, you were left alone with your thoughts once more. The apartment felt quieter than before, the silence pressing in on you from all sides. You sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in your hand, the weight of the evening settling heavily on your shoulders.

Something didn’t sit right with you, a question that buzzed in the back of your mind, refusing to be ignored. Spencer had made it clear that he didn’t see Anders as anything more than a casual fling—no romantic feelings, no intellectual connection. And yet, they were still sleeping together.

You tried to shake the thought away, telling yourself it wasn’t your business. Spencer was free to make his own choices, and Anders had already moved on, or at least he seemed to be. But the more you thought about it, the more the pieces didn’t add up.

Spencer had reached out to you after that night, asking if you were okay, expressing concern for how you felt. But if he was truly worried about how his relationship with Anders was affecting you, wouldn’t he have stopped sleeping with your friend? Wouldn’t he have made some kind of decision, some gesture to show that he was considering your feelings?

The thought gnawed at you, making your chest tighten with a mix of confusion and hurt. It felt like a betrayal, even if you didn’t have any real claim on Spencer’s actions. You had been trying so hard to navigate your feelings, to be a good friend, to keep the peace between everyone involved. But now, you couldn’t help but wonder if Spencer had been as considerate of you as you had been of him.

Anders’ casual mention that you could sleep with Spencer too—it felt wrong, like you were being invited into something you had no business being part of. If Spencer really cared about you, if he really wanted to figure things out between you two, wouldn’t he put a stop to his arrangement with Anders? Wouldn’t he want to keep things clear, to avoid complicating an already messy situation?

Your mind spiraled with these questions, each one cutting deeper than the last. You had tried to push your feelings aside, to be rational, to not make things more difficult than they already were. But now, you couldn’t help but feel like you were the only one trying to keep things from falling apart.

Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe Spencer just didn’t realize how much it was affecting you. But deep down, you knew that if he cared—really cared—he would have made a different choice. He wouldn’t have kept things going with Anders, knowing how tangled and painful this whole situation had become.

The realization hit you hard, a wave of sadness washing over you. You had wanted so badly to believe that Spencer was different, that he saw you as more than just someone in the background of his life. But now, it felt like you were just another person he could compartmentalize, another relationship he could keep separate and convenient.

You felt a lump rise in your throat as the hurt and disappointment settled in. You had been so focused on keeping the peace, on not causing trouble, that you had ignored your own feelings in the process. And now, you were left wondering if Spencer had ever truly considered how much this was hurting you.

With a heavy heart, you realized that you couldn’t keep ignoring this. You couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine when it wasn’t. Something had to change, and it wasn’t going to be easy. But you couldn’t keep sacrificing your own well-being for the sake of others, not anymore.

You picked up your phone, staring at the message Spencer had sent days ago. Your thumb hovered over the screen, hesitation gnawing at you. Part of you wanted to reply, to tell him everything, to ask him why he hadn’t made a different choice. But another part of you—the part that had been trying to protect yourself—wasn’t sure if you were ready to hear the answer.

Finally, you set the phone down, deciding that you were done with Spencer Reid.

—

A few weeks later, you found yourself wandering the aisles of the grocery store, lost in thought as you tried to focus on the mundane task of shopping. You were staring blankly at the jars of pickles in front of you when you heard your name being called out.

“Y/N!”

The familiar voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you turned to see Spencer walking towards you, a broad smile on his face. He looked genuinely happy to see you, which only made the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Hi,” you replied with a polite nod, your tone deliberately neutral.

“How are you?” Spencer asked, his excitement still evident as he stopped beside you.

“Fine,” you said shortly, your eyes returning to the jars, though you weren’t really seeing them. Your thoughts were swirling too much to focus on something as trivial as grocery shopping.

Spencer tilted his head slightly, a confused, almost puppy-like expression on his face. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Mad? No,” you dismissed the idea with a wave of your hand, shaking your head. You weren’t mad—frustrated, hurt, disappointed, maybe, but not mad.

“Oh,” Spencer said, pondering your response. “But you haven’t been talking to me.”

Finally, you turned to face him, your expression guarded. “I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?” you said, playing dumb, trying to keep the conversation as surface-level as possible.

“Y/N,” he sighed, his tone more serious now. “You know what I mean. You never texted me back. And you left movie night.”

You forced a laugh, though it felt hollow. “Well, duh, why would I want to be around when my friend’s fuck buddy is there?” you said, as if it were a joke, though there was a biting edge to your words.

Spencer laughed, but it was a dejected sound, lacking the usual warmth. “Ouch. That’s all I am?”

“Isn’t it?” you replied, your voice sharper than you intended. You couldn’t help the bitterness that crept into your tone.

Spencer nodded, his expression growing more serious. “Look, I put myself out there a few times, and you shot me down, so—”

“Oh my god, that is so not what this is about, Spencer,” you interrupted, your frustration bubbling over. How could he be so oblivious?

“No? Then why are you acting like this?” Spencer asked, his confusion evident. He genuinely didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

“God, you’re dense,” you muttered, shaking your head in exasperation. “Just… be nice to Anders, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

And there it was—confirmation that he was still sleeping with Anders. A wave of disappointment washed over you, the last bit of hope you had clung to slipping away. If Spencer had really liked you, if he had genuinely wanted to be with you, wouldn’t he have stopped all his other conquests and focused on pursuing you? But he hadn’t. He was still entangled with your friend, and that spoke volumes.

Oh well, you thought to yourself, trying to brush off the sinking feeling in your chest. Maybe you had been foolish to think there could have been something more between you and Spencer. Maybe it was time to let go of whatever feelings you had and move on, just like Anders had.

—

At another movie night, you could feel the excitement radiating off Anders from the moment you walked through the door. He was practically bouncing on his feet, unable to contain the big news he was bursting to share.

“Y/N! You will not believe this!” Anders squealed, practically jumping up and down. “His name is Hugh and ugh, he’s so yummy!”

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Really? Tell me more,” you urged, genuinely curious.

“He’s amazing!” Anders continued, his eyes lighting up. “He holds the door open for me, pulls my chair out, and always makes sure I finish first. He’s such a gentleman!”

“That’s great, Andy,” you said, smiling warmly at him. You could tell how happy he was, and it warmed your heart to see your friend so giddy and content.

“I know, right?” Anders clapped his hands together, unable to contain his joy. “And guess what? He asked me to be his boyfriend! Can you believe that?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What? Did you say yes?”

“Of course I did!” Anders giggled, his happiness practically infectious. “He’s everything I’ve been looking for!”

You hesitated for a moment, the question that had been nagging at you since your last conversation with Spencer lingering in the back of your mind. You had to know. “So…did you cut things off with Spencer?”

Anders rolled his eyes playfully and waved a hand dismissively. “Duh! I’m a slut, not a monster.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his candid response, feeling a strange mix of relief and something else. “I’m glad, Andy. Hugh sounds like a really great guy.”

“He is!” Anders beamed, his face glowing with happiness. “I’m so excited, Y/N. I really think this could be something special.”

You smiled, genuinely happy for your friend. “I’m sure it will be, Andy. You deserve someone who treats you like the amazing person you are.”

Anders gave you a big hug, squeezing you tightly. “Thank you, babe.”

As you hugged him back, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Knowing that Anders had moved on, and that things with Spencer were over, helped ease some of the tension that had been weighing on you. It was clear now that Anders had found something real with Hugh, and maybe that meant it was time for you to move forward too.

For the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope that things might actually work out, not just for Anders, but for yourself as well.

—

You stared at the text on your phone, the all-too-familiar You up? glowing on the screen. It was so cliché, so typical of Spencer to send that kind of message at 10 p.m. You rolled your eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and frustration bubbling up inside you. After everything, this was how he reached out? You didn’t dignify it with a response, instead turning on your read receipts and locking your phone. Let him know you saw it, and let him stew in it.

A few seconds later, your phone buzzed again.

Y/N.

The second message made your frustration spike even more. You read it, let it sit there, and ignored it again. Why should you give him the satisfaction of a reply? He had plenty of chances to talk, to say what needed to be said, and now, after you’d started to move on, he decided he needed to talk?

The next message, however, caught your attention.

Please, I need to talk to you.

You hesitated for a moment, your finger hovering over the screen. Against your better judgment, you finally replied, the words coming out more curtly than you intended.

Get it out quickly then.

You stared at your phone, waiting for Spencer to respond. Seconds turned into minutes, and still nothing. The longer you waited, the more irritated you became. Why did he always have to make things so difficult? You scoffed after 30 minutes, tossing your phone aside with a bitter laugh.

What an asshole, you thought. You had given him the chance to say whatever he needed to say, and now he was the one ignoring you? The nerve of it made your blood boil. You were done with this game.

But then, just as you were about to brush it off entirely, there was a knock at your front door.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat as the sound echoed through your apartment. For a moment, you just stared at the door, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Who could it be at this hour? And then it hit you—Spencer.

With a bit of reluctance and curiosity, you got up and walked to the door, your footsteps soft on the floor. When you reached it, you hesitated for a second, taking a deep breath before finally opening it.

There he was, standing in the dim light of the hallway, looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. His usual confident demeanor was gone, replaced by something raw and uncertain. The sight of him standing there, so close and yet so far, made your heart clench.

“Y/N,” Spencer said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “Can I come in?”

You stared at him, your emotions swirling in a chaotic mess. Part of you wanted to slam the door in his face, to tell him to leave and never come back. But another part, the part that still cared despite everything, wanted to know what he had to say, to understand why he was here.

“Why are you here, Spencer?” you asked, your voice guarded as you crossed your arms.

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your resolve waver. “Because I couldn’t wait any longer. I need to talk to you. Please, just give me a few minutes.”

You didn’t move, your mind racing as you tried to decide what to do. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you stepped aside and opened the door wider, letting him in.

Spencer walked past you, his shoulders tense, and you could feel the weight of whatever he was carrying with him. As you closed the door behind him, you prepared yourself for whatever was about to come, knowing that this conversation would change everything—one way or another.

"Alright, speak," you said, your tone flat as you stood by the front door, making it clear that you weren't about to give Spencer the comfort of sitting down. If he wanted to talk, he could do it on your terms.

Spencer looked pained at your coldness, his eyes searching yours for any sign of the warmth that used to be there. "Anders ended things," he finally said, his voice strained.

"I know," you replied, your voice still devoid of emotion.

He looked surprised by your response, his brows knitting together in confusion. "Okay, well, I'm done with that. With the casual thing."

"Okay," you echoed, your tone unchanged. You weren't giving him anything, and you could see the frustration mounting in his expression.

Spencer's face was full of desperation as he took a step closer, his voice pleading. "Y/N, I want you."

"Interesting," you replied, the word dripping with indifference. It was a far cry from the response he was hoping for, and you could see the effect it had on him.

He groaned, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. "What did I do to you?"

You narrowed your eyes, feeling a surge of anger at his question. The nerve of him to act like he didn’t know, like he hadn’t been the one to string you along while still entertaining other options. "Do you want a list?"

Spencer looked taken aback, his shoulders slumping as he realized just how deep the hurt ran. "I didn’t mean to hurt you," he said quietly, his voice laced with regret. "I didn’t know—"

"You didn’t know?" you cut him off, your voice rising slightly as the frustration that had been building inside you finally found an outlet. "You didn’t know that sleeping with my friend while pretending to care about me might hurt? You didn’t know that making me feel like I was just another option would push me away?"

Spencer flinched at your words, his eyes filled with guilt. "It wasn’t like that. I was confused—I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. But I know now. I know I want you."

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "Anders ended things with you, and now you want me? Is that it, Spencer? Am I just your backup plan?"

"No, it’s not like that!" Spencer protested, his voice desperate. "I’ve wanted you from the beginning, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I was scared you didn’t feel the same way, so I kept things casual with Anders because it was easier."

"Easier?" you repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. "You were too scared to put yourself out there with me, so you settled for something convenient. And now that that’s over, you think you can just waltz in here and tell me you want me, and everything will be okay?"

Spencer looked stricken, his eyes pleading with you to understand. "I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But I’m here now, trying to make it right. I’m not asking you to forgive me right away, but please, just give me a chance."

You stared at him, your heart aching with the weight of everything that had happened. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let yourself fall into the hope that things could be different. But the pain was still too fresh, the wounds too deep.

"I don’t know if I can do this," you admitted, your voice cracking slightly as you finally let some of your emotions show. "You hurt me, Spencer. You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, like I was just another option. I don’t know if I can trust you not to do that again."

Spencer took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours. "I’m not going to hurt you again. I swear. I was an idiot, and I didn’t see what was right in front of me. But I see it now. I see you. And I want you more than anything."

You swallowed hard, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I need time," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I can’t just jump into this. I need to figure out if I can trust you."

Spencer nodded, his expression earnest. "Take all the time you need. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Just… don’t shut me out completely. Please."

You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, and for the first time, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. But it wasn’t going to be easy. There were still a lot of wounds that needed to heal.

"Okay," you finally said, your voice trembling slightly. "But no promises, Spencer. I need to protect myself."

"I understand," Spencer replied, his voice soft. "I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust."

With that, you both stood there in silence, the tension slowly easing as the gravity of the moment settled between you. It wasn’t a resolution, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

—

Spencer stayed true to his word. He tried—really tried—to show you that he was serious about earning back your trust. And with each small gesture, he began to chip away at the walls you had built around your heart.

It started with little things, the kind that spoke volumes without saying a word. One day, a bouquet of your favorite flowers showed up at your apartment, their vibrant colors brightening up your living room. You stared at them for a long time, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. You hadn’t mentioned those flowers in a long time, but Spencer had remembered.

Then, it happened again, this time at your office. Another bouquet, just like the first, with a small note attached that simply said, “Thinking of you. -Spencer.” You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, despite the lingering caution in your heart.

As the days went on, you started finding coffee and pastries from your favorite bakery on your desk at work, always timed perfectly with when you arrived. There was never any fanfare, no messages or notes—just the simple presence of something you loved, waiting for you. It was as if Spencer was reminding you, in the subtlest of ways, that he was paying attention, that he cared.

But it wasn’t just the thoughtful gifts that caught your attention. Every night, like clockwork, your phone would buzz with a picture. It was always the same—Spencer, alone in bed, a soft, almost shy smile on his face as he looked into the camera. No words accompanied the photos, but the message was clear. He was alone, thinking of you, wanting you to know that you were on his mind before he fell asleep.

And then, there was the location sharing. One day, out of the blue, you received a notification on your phone that Spencer had shared his location with you indefinitely. You stared at the message, a mix of surprise and confusion washing over you. It was a level of transparency you hadn’t expected, and it made your heart ache with the realization that he was really trying—really showing you that he had nothing to hide.

Slowly, despite your best efforts to stay guarded, you found yourself softening. Each gesture, each reminder that Spencer was thinking of you, began to ease the tension that had been coiled so tightly inside you. It didn’t erase the hurt, and it didn’t magically fix everything, but it made you believe that maybe, just maybe, he was worth taking a chance on.

One evening, after receiving yet another picture of Spencer alone in bed, you finally caved. You picked up your phone and sent a quick message, simple but full of meaning.

Thank you.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. A way to let him know that his efforts hadn’t gone unnoticed, that you were beginning to see the sincerity behind his actions. And as you waited for his reply, a small part of you began to hope that maybe, just maybe, this time things could be different.

Spencer’s response came almost immediately, a single word that made your heart flutter.

Always.

And in that moment, you realized that perhaps, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t just waiting for the other shoe to drop. You were beginning to believe that this time, Spencer really meant it. That he was really trying to be the man you deserved. And that maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself believe in him too.

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pucked-bunnie · 9 months ago

Text

hands off ⎜m.barzal

pairings: mat barzal x reader prompts: "can you please come get me?" + "Don't fucking touch what isn't yours." warnings: mentions of stalking? ⎜drunk people ⎜reader is uncomfy ⎜ word count: 1.4k note: I got a lot of request for Mat so I decided that these two go well together and ended up combining them. Requests are open!

(UNEDITED)

The party was supposed to be fun.

It was supposed to be a good way for you to find new friends - to bond with some of the other wags.

And sure the night started out fun.

“I promise they’ll take good care of you, it’s just dinner and some drinks.” Mat had assured you as he watched you pull on your coat, the oversized denim jacket holding in any warmth it could manage, stopping the slight tremble of your limbs at the winter cold.

Moving to New York had been a big adjustment, especially in the dead of winter. Mat had talked to some of his teammates, hoping to be able to set up a girls night with some of the wives and girlfriends on the team to help you adjust to being in a new city, to help you make some new friends to keep you company when he was away so often. All the girls were quick to agree, adding you to the team group chat to discuss the details.

“I know, but it’s been so long since I’ve gone out and my sister warned me about the bars around here.” You respond as you glance up at him, pulling your lip between your teeth.

You wanted him to comfort you.

To give you a reason to cancel.

Or to say he would come with you.

Meeting new people was terrifying.

“I swear it’ll be fine, just message me when you’re ready and I’ll come get you.” You nod slowly at his words, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss against his cheek, Mat giving you a big smile as he pushes you lightly towards the front door of the bar, leaning against the side of his car until the front door closes behind you.

Mat was right.

The night started out fun.

But things changed so quickly.

“Hey, you’ll be right to head home on your own right?” Anders asks, his wife draped against his side, a drunk smile on her face as he holds her steady with one arm around her waist. “Mat’s on his way?” He questions, you don’t really respond, just giving a tight smile.

You had messaged Mat.

You swear.

Anders pats your shoulder softly, before dragging his wife out of the club, trying to avoid her incessant affections. You watch as they leave the constantly filling bar, the crowds of people getting louder, more boisterous as the night carries on. The others had been picked up earlier by their partners, each whisked off in a slightly tipsy haze.

You had been left on delivered for the last thirty five minutes.

And there was no sign of Mat responding anytime soon.

“He’s probably fallen asleep.” You reassure yourself, you phone showing a time of eleven forty eight pm, way past Mat’s normal bedtime.

Letting out a long sigh, you push away from the spot at the bar, grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair, slinging it over your shoulders, buttoning each button tightly before hefting your purse up on your shoulder.

Your apartment wasn’t far away.

The walk would have to be brisk with the cold seeping into your bones, but it was do-able.

You smile softly as the door managers as you exit, crossing your arms over your chest with your phone tight in your hand as you start walking down the block.

You can hear as they exit behind you.

The four men bustling amongst each other.

Each of them daring the other to close the gap.

You type quickly on your phone, pressing the cold glass to your ear as the dial tone rings in your ear.

You dare to glance back, the men pausing for a moment, discussing something between themselves.

“Baby?” Mat’s voice is groggy, coughing a few times as he repeats, “Baby, are you there?” You catch yourself nodding in response - despite the fact that Mat can’t hear you - your free arm tight around you as you speed up a little more.

“Can you please come get me?” You ask softly into the phone, you can hear the rusting of a blanket and the padding of Mat’s bare feet on your apartment floor as he moves around the rooms.

“Where are you?” He asks quickly, “Are you safe?”

“Like five minutes from the bar, I thought I could make it.” You continue, your body jumping as you hear the footsteps close in.

“Hey, wait.” You hear a voice call out from behind you, the man's voice slurred slightly, his friends egging him on.

“Who was that?” Mat asks, the jangling of his keys ringing through the phone. “Are you walking?” He asks again, his voice deeper, more gravely, the easiest to tell that he was angry.

“You weren’t responding.” You justify, “It’s only a fifteen minute walk, I thought it would be fine.” You hear Mat let out a cuss, the words sounding far away. You can hear his fingers swiping on his screen before he swears again, the sound of a grunt a thump before his voice is close to your ear again.

“I’m on my way - stay on the phone with me, okay?” You nod again, glancing once more over your shoulder the men are closing on you now.

Mat’s breathing heavily into the phone, reminding you to keep walking.

He’ll be there soon, he promises.

The hand lands out your arm roughly, your body swung around to face them.

“I asked you to wait.” The man groans, he couldn’t have been more than mid twenties, you wish he knew how scared you were right now.

“My boyfriend is on his way to come get me. I’m not interested.” You speak confidently, you can hear the muffled sounds of Mat saying something into the phone, but you can’t make out the words, your arm dropping to your side as the man's friends stop around the two of you.

“Let me go.” You say, firm in your words.

“But you haven’t even heard me out yet.” The man whines, his tone similar to that of an upset child. “Please give me a chance.” He whines again, his hand still clamped on your arm. The man is clearly drunk, his friends goading him on.

“I bet she’s lying.” One says.

“She probably doesn’t even have a boyfriend.” The other adds.

“Show her what she’s missing out on.” The last one says.

The man in front of you pauses, his eyes flicking over your shoulder, heavy steps stopping behind you, the man’s hand loosening slowly.

“Didn’t your mothers ever teach you boys manners?” Mats voice hisses from beside you, his hand reaching out to close around the drunk stranger's wrist, the man releasing you quickly.

“Don’t fucking touch what isn’t yours.” Mat sneers, his body moving in front of your as he pushes the man away from the two of you.

The men are smart.

They retreat quickly, excuses falling from their mouths.

“Sorry man.” One sighs.

“Didn’t mean any harm.” The other adds.

Mat glares at the back of them as they stumble back down the street to the bar, their attention finding some other people to focus on.

“You ran all the way here?” You ask.

“Yes.” Mat responds.

“Are you mad at me?” You question quietly, Mat’s chest heaving, as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“What?” He asks, spinning on the spot to face you, letting out a long sigh as he reaches for you, his arms wrapping around your head to pull you into his chest, his hands stroke your hair as he lets out another long breath.

“I’m mad at myself.” He says quietly. “I told you I would come get you as soon as you messaged and I was an idiot and fell asleep.”

“It’s okay.” You grumble into his chest, your words muffled by his thick hoodie.

“I was so scared.”

“So was I.” You agree, pulling your head away from his chest to look up at him, smiling as you pull yourself out of his arms, reaching to latch your hand in his as you pull him to start walking besides you.

“I can’t believe you ran all the way to help me.” You chuckle softly, finally tucking your phone back into your pocket, the danger ebbing away as you watch your boyfriend's shoulders slump as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe I did, either.”

#mat barzal #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #mat barzal fanfic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #prompt #prompt request

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