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artemiseamoon · 1 month ago

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Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe

A Dieter Bravo x F Reader romance by Artemiseamoon

Part of @pedrostories Secret Santa 2024. This is a gift for @the-blind-assassin-12 I was soooo excited to create this for you! I hope you enjoy it as much I do. 💜

Word count: 11k plus

Summary: While celebrating Christmas Eve in New York City, you enjoy the company of close friends and learn that dreams do come true when a certain brown eyed actor crosses your path. One encounter changes the events of your lives and marks Christmas as the most special time of year.

Reader: no physical descriptions given aside from being a woman. RC intended to be in late 30’s - 40’s and has a career. Dieter does give her a nickname. Feel free to read as RC or OC, your choice.

Warnings: mentions of (light not heavy handed) drugs, recovery, sexual activity. Nothing graphic, no smut. Plus language, for cursing (if thats a warning?)

📚Read on A03⬅️

Christmas Eve, 2022

A festive spirit kissed the air as the city streets bustled with people coming and going. Locals on the move, tourists snapping photos, families on their way to relatives, and groups of friends headed to parties.

You tightened your grip on the cake box, snowflakes melting against your skin as you hurried your walk, now just blocks away from your best friend's home. It's a scenic route; decorated storefronts, lawns, and windows adorned with trinkets and ornaments; lights strung along trees.

As the snowfall increased, you pulled your hood over your head. In your pocket, your phone buzzed, then again, a second time. Not wanting to expose your hands, you decided to wait to answer. You wondered if it was an update about the weather.

A blizzard warning was in effect for two days from now. You hoped to be back home and cozy by then, but by the look of things, you just might get stuck here for the duration. Not that it was a bad thing, you had friends here and were staying in your bestie's spare bedroom.

Back inside the brownstone, you shook snow off your boots, set the box down on a bench and checked your phone. The wind kicked up outside, it's howl touching the doors before you.

Parker: I hope people come! It’s coming down hard out there :(

Parker: You ok? Not stuck in a snowbank, right? And THANK YOU for volunteering. You're a life safer! Remind me to not attempt cake making again.

Earlier, Parker tried their hand at baking. What came out of the over was - well - edible but not pretty. Parker's yearly Christmas party was a hit and each time they had a cake from their favorite bakery. This year, they got a bit crazy with the whole DIY thing and this happened. Once the cake emergency ensued, they found one place nearby with one cake left. You volunteered to pick it up.

You: Tonight will be amazing; I have a good feeling. And yes, I returned safely. Be up in a sec.

An hour later the house was packed, on the lower-level people danced, ate, and lost themselves in conversation, both deep and light. Laughter could be heard in bursts over the music from the speakers. On the second level, a game room was set up with an area for crafts. People lingered in the halls, conversing and some dancing. The third floor was closed off as far as the party went. The brownstone was busting with life, the continuous snowfall outside didn’t detract from the jovial mood.

“Karaoke!” Parker yelled into the room. They turned to you, “You know what this means. We need Stevie to start us off."

“We must summon Stevie.” One of your friends said while handing you their velvet scarf.

“Okay - I need to get in character.”

Scarf in hand, you excused yourself from the room. When you returned, you were in full character, wide-brimmed hat, extra necklaces, and a dark blanket wrapped around like a skirt. Your friends cheered as you took your place in the center of the room. Parker passed you the microphone and pressed play.

'Rock on, gold dust woman

Take your silver spoon, dig

Your grave'

As you perform, you do your famous Stevie Nicks impression, belting out the lyrics as you move across the room. You wouldn't say your voice was greatest, but you put on a damn good show.

As the middle of the song neared, your eyes floated to the back of the room. A group of people crowded into the living room, filling in any empty spots. You were about to turn away when something told you to keep looking. At the very back of the group a man stood out, his head was lowered and all you could see was messy brown curls. As he lifted his head, everything slowed down and you missed a line.

You'd know that face from anywhere!

That hair

That nose

Those brown eyes

And when he smiled, you heart skipped a beat. You were either hallucinating, or Dieter Bravo had one hell of a lookalike!

You continued on with the song, trying to convince yourself that once the performance was over, you'll realize this dude didn't look like Dieter at all.

What would he be doing at a random house anyway?

By the song's end, your heart was in your throat. The man still looked a hell of a lot like Dieter, and now you were convinced you slipped into some kind of dream state. Handing the mic to the next person, you grabbed Parker by the hand and rushed to the kitchen.

“Is that Dieter fucking Bravo in your house?” you asked while grabbing their shoulders.

Parker shook their head, looking as surprised as you. "Unless all of us are having some mass hallucinations then um - yeah, I think- unless he has a twin brother."

"He does not, he's an only child," you opened the door to take a peek, and catch a glimpse of some people looking up his photo and talking. You dip back into the kitchen. Getting antsy, you start walking around, your mind recalling the moment your eyes met across the room. "No, no that is him, the real him."

You would know. You’ve studied and dreamed about that man more times than you’re willing to admit. You have an insane number of photos, videos, and gifs of him all saved in an album titled ‘Dieter my love’. The handsome, adorable, trash panda of a famous actor ruined your life- well, not ruined, but to say you were obsessed would be fair.

Well, not obsessed but-

Okay, he took over your brain, your thoughts, your heart.

Parker shrugged, “I don’t - did he just- wander in here?”

Before either of you could muse further, Parker’s girlfriend entered the room. She was stuck doing the afternoon shift at the bar she worked at, and the evening person was late, hence her late arrival.

“So, um - that's Dieter Bravo.”

“And how is he here?” Parker asked.

“This sounds crazy but - he stopped in the bar, ten minutes before I left. We got to talking and I kinda - invited him.” Jett replied.

You moved closer, trying to digest her words. “You just casually met and invited Dieter Bravo to a party?”

“Yeah. I was already late, why not bring one hell of a gift for our favorite person!" She took your hand.

While staring at her, you pinched yourself with your free hand. Yep, real, this was very real. Seconds later, you pulled her into a hug. Behind you, the door swung open.

“Hi,” Dieter waved at the three of you. “Hope you don’t mind, crashing your party and all." he said to Parker.

You assumed Jett told him who's who already.

“As long as you have fun and don’t steal all the thunder.” Parker replied, then shared a glance with Jett. “We have to - get something.” They grabbed Jett's hand and left the kitchen.

The door swung closed again, leaving you and Dieter alone. Not knowing what else to do, you froze.

He's so - soft-looking. He was dressed comfortably, dark loose pants and a fuzzy sweater. He even appeared a bit tired, but in a hot cuddly kind of way.

“And you must be Calliope herself,” he smiled.

“Greek muse of song and poetry, nice -” you leaned against the counter behind you, mainly for balance as your legs turned to Jello.

“I know you are," he said your name, " Jett gave me the quick rundown, the most important people at least.”

A giddy feeling washed over you, your name on his lips echoing in your mind. ��Glad I’m one of the important ones. So, you make this a habit, crashing house parties?"

“Sometimes,” he jested, “no - actually, Jett's really cool, and getting a drink alone was fucking depression so -" he moved to the snack stray, but kept his eyes mostly on you, “here I am.”

“Hard to believe you were alone today, being so famous and all.”

“I didn’t want anyone around -" he started to snack, “then, I changed my mind.”

“Hence the drink?”

He winked at you. With a plate of snacks, Dieter moved closer, mirroring your body language against the counter.

A brief silence fell between you, and your mind was firing off in a million directions. All of a sudden, you lose the ability to conversate again. So, you just look at him as he looks at you, taking the moment in, letting yourself be star stuck.

Done with the snacks, Dieter put the plate down then rolled up his sleeves, revealing his assorted bracelets. Your gaze lingered there; you loved his arms, and his hands. Your gaze dropped to his fingers, then his rings.

When his eyes met yours again, you went with the first thing on your mind.

“Are you in New York for work?”

“No. I took the time off. I don’t like to work during the holidays - no Hollywood stuff.”

You faced him directly, instead of just stealing side glances. “What's your ideal way to spend Christmas?”

Dieter grinned at the question. “Sleeping in. Pancakes for breakfast…movie marathon, you know, the classics -” he ran his hand through his hair, “in pajamas all day.”

"You already wear pajamas all the time."

He laughed at your comment. "These are the outside pajamas - not the pajamas-pajamas."

"Ah, got it."

His next smile was sheepish as he glanced at the floor, looking suddenly vulnerable, “with someone - or alone.”

You frowned a little, all of you wanting to hug him.

“Dieter, I hope you get your dream Christmas this year.”

“Yeah, we’ll see -" his tone wasn't so convincing. He stared off for a second, then looked at you. “What’s your perfect Christmas day?”

Your heart was beating so fast now you could hear it drum in your ears. He was so present with you, you almost felt exposed, naked under his gaze-

“As cozy and warm as possible. My mind is on a lot, for work. So just unplugging and having a nice day, that’s good enough for me.”

Dieter listened with a spark in his eyes. Just as he was about to ask a question, you gained some company. A group of three people you didn’t know well entered; one already had their phone out.

“Could we get a picture? If you don’t want to - "

“I’m in the middle of a very interesting conversation,” he gestured to you.

Your smile returned. He wasn’t necessarily rude about it, but he was clear. And they got the point as they left the kitchen. His attention was instantly on you again, his gaze full of interest as he studied you.

Is this what it feels like, to be a work of art in a museum, under appreciative eyes?

He started, “I hate this question, so - forgive me for asking but-”

“Astronomer by day, writer by night” you replied.

Depending on the person, you only replied ‘astronomer’, but if you liked the person, you didn’t mind revealing a little more about the writing part. Then there was the whole pen name thing as your non-work-related writing was on the saucier side. Constellations and planets by day. Sex pollen by night.

Dieter dipped his head, keeping his eyes on you, “seriously?”

“Seriously.”

He inched closer. “What do you write?”

“A little of everything. Mainly fiction.”

“Anything published?”

“One, last year I wrote this book, like a merge of my two words. It’s a retelling of the myths of the constellations. My second book, that's - coming along - it's a sci-fi thing.”

Dieter’s eyes lit up. He placed a hand on your shoulder, your name on his lips.

“Yeah?” You chuckled, not sure what to make of the way he was staring at you, all while trying to play it as cool as fucking possible because inside, you are anything but chill.

“You are the coolest fucking person here - ever!” Dieter raved.

You chuckled, “stop. You're the Oscar-winning movie star. I’m just…me. A girl who was so obsessed with the stars she made a career out of it. Who likes to write spicy sci-fi too.”

Dieter got a little closer, and as he moved his hand back to rest it on the counter, he almost knocked some things over. He quickly fixed them, then made eye contact.

“Astronomer? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know how smart you have to be for that?" He counted on his fingers, "Published author. Karaoke star and fucking gorgeous.”

Your breath stilled, heart beating faster as he gushed about you! By some weird miracle you were holding your shit together while internally kicking and screaming. Here he was your celebrity crush - complimenting you.

"Thank you,” nervousness fluttered in your gut. You shook your head and laughed, “I’m not gonna lie. I’m a huge fan of yours and kinda freaking out right now.”

Dieter smiled.

Fuck, he thought. You were making his heart race; he had those silly butterfly things talking to you - and he was nervous - nervous. He rarely got nervous. Knowing you both were trying to keep your cool was comforting.

You revealed your shaking hands, which you were keeping buried in your pocket for a reason. “See? Not keeping it cool at all.”

Dieter extended his arm, “check my pulse.”

His heart rate was through the roof. This was unreal. He hummed softly at your touch, your fingers so soft against his skin. And when you moved your hand, he instantly missed the contact.

“How about we calm our nerves, yeah? I heard there’s a game room upstairs,” Dieter suggested.

“Follow me,” you pushed yourself forward and headed to the door.

The inner you was screaming even louder now. You didn't know if you'd freeze again or find your flow, but it was worth it to find out. Plus, even if it was a little selfish, you were glad to steal him away before he gets overloaded with picture requests.

Half an hour later, you and Dieter remained in your cozy corner of the game room. Jenga was the current game of choice as you navigated all the interest he was drawing. You talked about music and art. You imagined meeting him before, but as great as your imagination is, anything you dreamed up didn't compare to this.

After Cliff Beasts 6 in 2020, his reputation was a roller-coaster - dipping and rising - calming and amping up - which seemed to be the norm for him. By time the documentary came out earlier this year, he appeared to be in control again.

"I had to get my shit together, " he shared with you, "clear my mind. Find my center. There was this great place Anika recommended."

"Are you two still close?" You asked, carefully pulling a block from the tower.

"She's so cool - we're good friends."

You learned the romance was short lived, but they gained life-long friends out of it, and she was super supportive of his recovery journey. You remembered when he came back from the center, he looked great, refreshed and healthy. Sadly, it didn't stop the tabloids from talking shit and retelling his greatest 'party' hits.

As you and Dieter talked, getting to know more about each other while topic hopping to random things, your excitement for what could happen tonight grew. You knew his reputation, and the risks. But a chance with your celebrity crush was something most people didn't get - and you weren't going to let this pass you by.

Fifteen minutes later you were back to talking about music and live shows, while deep in a game of twister. Prior to the game, Parker and Jett lured most of the people away, almost giving you the room alone.

“Want to do a song - or songs - with me?” Dieter asked from beneath you.

“Hell yes - how about something from the 90s?"

“Fuck yes! Pop? Alternative?”

You tried to reach for the spinner, “why not both?"

“We should do a Christmas song too!”

“Sure. A fun one though! How about a super sexy Santa baby - oh fuck -”

Your leg slipped from beneath you, causing you to crash into Dieter. Bot of you hit the ground and burst into laughter.

“Have you ever heard the Eartha Kitt version?” you asked, rolling off of Dieter.

He laid on his side, doe-eyed and smiling “Obviously. It’s one of the best. Wait - Can we do Baby it’s cold outside too?”

"It’s a date. Plus, people can snap all those pictures they’ve been asking for.”

Dieter smiled as he took you in. “I don’t care about any of that, this- I like this.”

After doing three fun and naughty songs with Dieter, your friends pulled you away to get the tea. Everything sounded crazy as it left your lips, but it was true, the vibes were vibing and hanging out with him felt so easy - so natural.

Once you were done speaking with your friends, you found Dieter downstairs with a group around him. He seemed to be having a decent time, yet as soon as he saw you, he lit up and then made his way over to you.

“We killed it up there.” He commented, then offered you the rest of his cake.

“Don’t tempt me. I’ve already had one and a half."

"This is my second, I had to race someone to it." he said as he took another bite.

"To be fair, I was the one who went out to get it. Snow and all.”

“You did! Look, this cake is divine, if this cake wasn’t here, I might have left.”

You laughed, “and what about me?”

“You or the cake? Oh, I’m choosing the cake.”

“Wow,” you pretended to be offended then glanced out the window. Everything was covered in inches of snow. Before you can turn around, you feel Dieter over your shoulder.

“Seriously though, if it's you or the cake, fuck that cake.”

“Right answer."

“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

Maybe, just maybe fairytales were real - even if for one night. You playfully tugged at his sweater while grinning, “careful, keep complimenting me like that and I'll have to kiss you under the mistletoe.”

A playful smile touched his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

Before you could take a full breath, Dieter was leading you through the crowded room, down the hallway, and to the side room turned photo op. You worked hard this morning getting this space just right, but never imagined you'd be in it with Dieter of all people. In the corner a couple was making out, in another people were using the portable photo booth station.

Dieter only stopped moving once you were under the mistletoe.

His gaze fell to your lips before rising to your eyes, “I’ve been dying to kiss you all night."

You gave a cheeky reply, “well, I’m right here,”

Dieter slid one arm around you, pulling you closer while brushing your chin with his fingers: his bedroom eyes further igniting the fire within you.

“You really are wonderful, you know that?” said Dieter with a soft breath.

Before you could respond, Dieter closed the space between you, pressing his lips to yours. His lips were soft against your own, and the tenderness with which he kissed you made your heart race. As the kiss deepened, you slid your fingers up the nape of his neck and into his hair. Dieter responded with a low moan against your lips.

“You taste as good as you look,” he moaned.

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Let's do more of that, a lot more.”

This time you drew him in by his shoulders, initiating the second kiss. Easily you lose yourself in his embrace. His lips were sweet, like the cake he’d eaten minutes before, the same cake you walked five blocks in snow to get. How the fuck is this real, you thought. You would have never imagined while you held that cake for dear life that you'd be tasting it on Dieter's kiss.

“Spend tonight with me?” Dieter asked as he drew in a breath.

You parted your lips to speak, nothing came out. The full shock of everything that just happened hitting you all at once.

Dieter waited for your answer, hoping you’d say yes. Sex with you would be amazing, it would greatly improve what's been a depressing and lonely week in New York. You're the stuff of dreams, and so damn beautiful he might just pick up a brush and paint again.

All that talk about muses, yeah, he really understood it now. Just a couple of hours with you had his mind thinking up all kinds of things. He imagined taking you to this vacation villa, a soft breeze coming in off the water as you posed for him; Dieter capturing your essence with each stroke of the brush against canvas. And when he wasn't painting, you two could spend long afternoons and lazy mornings in bed.

His mind went back to sex, it would be spectacular, he knew it. He was also content to just hang out with you all night until you’ve both fallen asleep. You're that fucking cool and he just wanted more time, no matter how you spent it. He knew his reputation, and as you still hadn’t answered, he feared that was why.

“Dieter I-”

Dieter leaned in, hanging on your every word.

“I’d love that.”

“Yes!” Dieter did a fist pump, then wrapped his arms around you again. “I can’t promise we’ll get a cab at this point - we might have to walk.”

You trailed his jawline with your nails, “I’ve got my snow boots.”

“Wow,” he held you at a distance to take you in, “we’re leaving. Now.” With your hand in his, Dieter made his way to the door.

“I need my coat and my boots silly,” you laughed, “give me five minutes. “

About 30 minutes later, and with no cabs in sight, you made it to his hotel room. By car ride, he was just 15 minutes away, but on foot, plus all the snow, it was twice as long. You made the best of it along the way, stopping to make snowmen and angels, even having a brief snowball fight.

Inside, the room was warm and toasty. Dieter made you a cup of tea as he called the desk to extend his stay. Instead of checking out in the morning, he gave it one more day. The snow continued to fall dramatically outside.

As he finished up the call, you contemplated taking a hot shower, then changing. You did take an overnight bag for tonight, and the dry jammies were calling your name. Deciding a shower would help with the chill in your bones, you suggested the idea to Dieter, he was happy to oblige. Once you were out, you made yourself comfortable as he did the same.

A half-hour later, you were cuddled up on the couch, under blankets as you talked about everything and nothing. Dieter got up briefly then returned with something in his hand,

“KitKat?”

You smiled; he really loved these things as much as you heard.

“I have a whole bunch in the fridge. Have as many as you want, but not the last one.”

“I promise to not eat your last kit, Kat Dieter,”

“There’s something about it chilled; it's gotta be chilled,” he leaned back with a sigh, then rolled to his side. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” you said, snapping one of the bars off.

“I was having a really shitty day, week...month,” he shrugged, “I thought I wanted to be alone for the holiday, then realized I didn't. Then I went on Tinder and that shit was depressing."

“I bet you had a line around the block of people waiting for the honor.”

“Since I cleaned up - there are certain crowds I don't hang around anymore, it's bad for my aura and shit. I keep it simple now - pot, wine, the occasional drink and I love shrooms too much to give them up. Don't ever ask me to give those up. The harder stuff, though, I haven't touched in months.”

“That's a big deal, Dieter, congratulations.”

He nuzzled his head against the pillow while gazing at you. “Have I told you how beautiful you are.”

“Yes, and you can keep on if you want,”

“I will, all night, and tomorrow too.”

You sat up, covering your face with your hands before lowering them again. “Dieter, this is nuts. You're my biggest crush ever and here we are!"

“Fuck, I know right, I can’t believe it either,” he pressed his forehead to yours while looking into your eyes, “I think we met before, in another universe.”

“Or - another life.”

“Or both.”

“Okay, both. I like that.” you ran your hands down his chest with a soft hum, “you are as cuddly as I imagined.”

“Lucky for you I need more cuddles, come here!” Dieter drew you back into his arms.

'Blizzard warning in effect for New York State Tri-Area - all flights have been temporarily suspended due to inclement weather, please contact your air carrier for further details - travel on the roads is not advised -'

“Breakfast is here,” Dieter called out from the hall.

You were parked in front of the TV, watching the news feed. The blizzard did not wait for two days from now as first reported, it hit late last night, around 3 am, You wouldn’t have known it, you and Dieter were too busy exploring each other's bodies until you were exhausted, then fell asleep cuddling; he was your little spoon.

When you woke up around ten am, secure in his arms, his body pressed against yours and his excitement evident, you turned to kiss him, leading to a lazy sensual morning in bed. Now it was around noon, and you were both so hungry you were getting a little grumpy, so Dieter ordered room service. You also took the time to answer the many texts from your concerned friends to confirm that you were indeed fine, in a land of bliss actually and that was all you could say for now.

The aromas of cinnamon, spice, coffee, and freshly baked goods met your nose, making your stomach grumble. You clicked off the TV and joined him in the kitchen.

“I’ve extended my stay, two more days but I have to leave by Thursday morning, a work thing.” he pulled out a chair for you to sit on, then kissed you on the lips, “Merry Christmas.”

In the back of your mind, you remind yourself to change your flight as well. From the looks of it outside, there is no way you are flying out tomorrow.

You dug something out of your pocket, “yesterday morning, I gave all my friends their presents and I had an extra one. At first, I thought it was a miscount but now - “you passed him the pouch, smiling proudly. "“Merry Christmas, Dieter."

Dieter moved his chair closer to yours then opened it up revealing a hemp bracelet with round stone beads.

“It's a grounding and protection mix, that's shungite, red jasper, and smoky quartz...some tourmaline too.”

“What have I done to deserve you,” he gushed, then quickly slipped the bracelet on his wrist. "Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” you watched him a moment longer, then decided to eat, your stomach was growling at you.

“You know shungite is used to block EMF radiation, that shit fucks with your brain waves. Messes you up. I have a piece on my phone case.”

Smiling, you dig your phone out of your pocket and flip it over.

“No fucking way - “he picked it up, amazed. “You’re perfect, literally, perfect. Do you know a lot about stones? I have this room in my house - all crystals, some giant fucking ones too. I don’t know what they all mean - a friend gave me a book, but I never read it. I have an idea! What if you came? I could show you the room and you can tell me what they are. I have a telescope too, a really good one - I think you'd like it.”

“Is this your way of asking me to visit?” you tease while tugging at his shirt.

“Yes, of course! You must visit - you have to.”

“Then of course I will - was that your stomach?”

“Yes. It demands food.”

You took the lids off the plates and handed him a fork. “Let’s eat.”

Dieter shook his head while speaking with his hands. “No - that shit calcifies the pineal gland. Stay away from those -”

You’ve been deep in conversation now for about two hours. Dieter was lying on his back while you laid on his chest, the both of you still naked from your previous activities.

It was beautiful, the both of you in your own little world as the snow fell heavily outside. You’ve juggled so many topics of conversation it was a little hard to keep track, but you were going with the flow and loving every second of it. Dieter's a wild, unpredictable, cozy ride and you’ve never been more thankful for a snowstorm in your life.

“How do you feel about New Year's resolutions?” You asked, not sure why you did.

He shook his head. “I don’t do that.”

“Yeah, I used to when I was younger, but not anymore...have you ever had your birth chart done?” You could admit you've looked it up before, or at least the speculated chart, but don't.

“Of course, show me yours and I’ll show you mine?” Dieter already had his phone out for you to view.

2023

Being snowed in with Dieter weeks ago was a dream, one that kept you warm and fuzzy during the winter and through the month of January. As it neared its midway point, you weren't sure what you and Diter were. One night stand? Friends with benefits to be? When you parted ways post storm, nothing was defined. You knew there was a possibility, you’d never hear from him again, but to your surprise, he texted you just days later.

Even though his communication was sporadic at times, he did reach out. Now you had numerous texts, phone calls, and video calls between you as January neared its end. Plans remained undefined as far as a visit to LA, but you understood how crazy his schedule was so didn’t push. Plus, everything was so fresh, and you wanted the real invite to come naturally without any pressure.

You were smitten as all hell and falling, hard. All while trying to keep a sensible mind about it. The 'what are we?' questions following you around like a phantom. It didn't help that he wore your bracelet - all the time! You even spotted it in a recent interview. Was it delusional to think that maybe- just maybe -

Then there was the press, the beast, the greedy machine and all the speculation about Dieter and his sex life. Every week it seemed a new person he was rumored to be with, or some crazy drug crazed party people claimed he was at. The rumors of relapse were the most upsetting, especially because you knew he was working his ass off to keep it together.

It wasn't uncommon to have a few days when you didn't hear from him, he was a busy guy after all. Some days he just sent some emojis until he could talk again. You were having one of those weeks, left with memories and emojis until the real thing came. You spent your

time working on your new book and at the planetarium. It was at the end of a very long shift when you heard from him again.

First came the text with a link to an upcoming concert on January 30th. The headliner was one of yours and Dieter's favorite 90’s alternative bands.

Dieter: Meet me in New York. I owe you a date.

You: It’s true…I don’t know if the snow days counted as a date.

Dieter: Dinner, anywhere you want, then the show. VIP seats. Then I plan to spend the night between your thighs.

You: You better :) Let's do this.

In two days, it would be the last day of the year, and you couldn't wait for the reunion.

The concert at Madison Square Garden was amazing. After the show, you ended up in Dieter's hotel room, already making out as he swiped the key card.

“I have to leave really fucking early. International flights man -” he said between kisses.

You weaved your fingers through his hair, "we better make the best of our time then.”

Dieter woke up before sunrise, and though you didn't know it, he spent some time watching you sleep. The last thing he wanted was to disturb you, but he knew you’d be upset if he left without saying goodbye.

Using gentle kisses along your neck and chin, Dieter whispered against your skin, “baby, I have to leave.”

You didn’t wake right away; it took a minute or two until your eyes opened. A smile formed on your lips; Dieter's definitely your favorite sight in the morning.

“It’s time already?” you yawned.

“Sadly, yes-” he buried his face beneath your chin, taking in your scent, “fuck it, I’ll cancel my flight.”

“This is important, I can’t let you do that - you wanted this meeting for how long?”

“A long time -"

Dieter had a script idea, and a director in mind. He explained the character as a cowboy secret agent, a role he always wanted to play. This trip, the first part at least, was about making that happen.

“We’ll just have to see each other next time you're free,” you pouted.

Last night added up to four nights total with Dieter, but still, you were drunk on him. He was already weaving his way into your heart in such a short amount of time.

Dieter balanced himself on his elbows as he studied you, “visit me.”

“You know I would,” you replied.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

As he smiled, you poked his dimple.

“I get back from Europe late at night, February 13th.” He turned and rummaged around the desk in the dark. Once enough things fell over, you turned on one of the lights on while laughing.

“Thanks,” he flashed a smile at you then sat up and turned away.

“What are you hiding?”

“Can you do it, a flight the morning of the 14th?”

“I think I can swing that.” That was in 13 days from now, you could use your PTO, “yeah, let’s do it.”

Dieter finally turned to you, presenting a sticky note with a heart drawn on it and text in the middle,

“Be my Valentine?”

He was the cutest you’ve ever seen him; messy hair, big brown puppy dog eyes, it was heartwarming. “Of course, I’ll be your Valentine.”

“It’s settled then; I’ll buy your ticket.” he sighed deeply while pulling you into a hug. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

His next alarm went off, he groaned and snoozed it.

“You’re going to be late -"

“I’ll make it, but we need to be fast. No way I’m leaving here without one more taste of you - “ he tore the covers away and moved between your legs.

“If you miss that flight don’t blame me,” you tugged at the waistband of his pants.

“If I miss it, I get to stay here, fucking you all day. I call that a win.”

“Well, if you put it that way-” grabbing a fist full of his shirt, you pulled him down into a kiss. “Then we’ll get you on a later flight because this is important, and I won't let you bail on it.”

“How did I get so damn lucky?” he smiled warmly then started to undress you.

As the car pulled up to the gates, you couldn’t believe you were really there. Dieter Bravo's house. After a brief drive, you arrived at the front door, finding him waiting for you.

He looked adorable, his hair, pajamas and signature green robe plus his furry boots. His face lit up as he saw you. Dieter quickly took his sunglasses off, hung them on his shirt, and went to greet you.

“Sweetheart, it’s good to see you,”

You're in his arms in an instant, his hug warm and secure.

“How was your flight?”

“First class direct with all the perks. I can’t complain.”

“Good," he took a step back holding your arms as he took you in, “you look great.”

“I’m in tights and a hoodie “

“You look great,” he repeated, his gaze soft on yours.

Dieter slid one hand down your arm while raising the other to your chin, admiring you further before kissing you. The kiss transports you back to Christmas Eve, under the mistletoe.

“I’m glad you could make it Cosmo. Come, there's so much I want to show you.”

You’re not sure what you expected his house to look like, but now that you’re here, it seems fitting. Posters of all kinds, movies, concerts, art prints. Paintings large and small, interesting pieces of furniture sprinkled in with the basics, more than a few bean bags and lava lamps.

“Happy Valentines Day!" he beamed.

“Happy Valentines.” you replied, interlacing your fingers with his as he walks you through the house.

As the tour went on, Dieter couldn't believe his luck. He missed you like hell and finally you were here. He was beyond smitten, he was hooked, whipped. You, the most perfect woman ever, possessed him, he thought of you day and night, thoughts both pure and unholy. He even took one of your bras after the snowstorm in NY and kept it.

He also kept the note you wrote after your snowed-in adventure. Dieter didn’t see you write it, but at the airport, he reached in his pocket and found it, rolled up like a scroll, a makeshift ribbon around it,

Lovely being snowed in with you , Xo Cosmo

You even left a lipstick stain on the back, and he handled the note so carefully, worried he’d tear it. He liked that the nickname grew on you, at first, he wasn’t sure if you’d like it. He kept it in his pocket all the time, just like he always wore your bracelet.

You busied yourself in the living room as Dieter took some calls. It was a short while later he returned with a woman trailing behind him. She was carrying a portfolio, notebook, and a tablet all under one arm: definitely an assistant. Currently, she was texting, typing faster than you’ve ever seen anyone type.

“There she is - “His expression lighted at the sight of you. Standing at the back of the couch, he leaned over to kiss you. “I have this thing tomorrow evening. Couldn’t get out of it. But -” he rounded the couch and sat next to you, “my attention is all yours before and after.” he held his hands together apologetically.

You took his hands in yours. “Dieter, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not - I said we’d have four days together, undisturbed and -" he took a deep breath, then glanced at his assistant, “what if I show up for the post-viewing part?”

With her eyes still downcast, she replied, “You need to be there by 7. Red carpet, photo ops, all the norms. The viewing starts at 8-”

He scratched his beard, “no, that's too early. How about 7:30? 7:45?”

His assistant glanced up with a pinched expression. “Mr. Bravo, you know the drill.”

He waved his hand, “I hate all that shit; besides I have company,” he kissed your hand.

“Be there at 7, get all the stuff out of the way and I’ll tell them you had business after so can’t do the Q&A?”

“See! She’s the best - the best - “he jumped up and gave her a hug. “Wait, proper introductions.”

Dieter proceeded to introduce you two, and you learned her name, Colleen.

“Anything else before I go?” Colleen asked.

Dieter stretched out over your legs like a big cat. “Wait, they’ll have the Kit Kats, right? Last time, they forgot the Kit Kats-”

“They will have the Kit Kats-”

"Are you sure? Will they be chilled?”

“Yes, Mr. Bravo.”

“Good -" he ran his fingers through his hair while nodding, then chuckled as you scratched his tummy.

“Any other request?”

You could tell she asked because she had to. Her stress level seemed high, but you could imagine why. As smitten as you were over Dieter, you would not want to be his personal assistant.

“No - wait! “His eyes widened as he sat up, “a mascot! I need a mascot.”

“A mascot?”

You even crooked a brow at him while biting back a laugh.

“Yeah. Like they have in games but a big kit Kat.” he used his hands to demonstrate as he spoke.

“Umm - I don’t know if -”

“If they want me there early, I need a mascot. I'll even do that stupid Instagram thing - only if I have the mascot.”

“Um - yeah, a Kit Kat mascot…” Colleen jotted it down in her phone, “I will see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Colleen. Now I'd like to get back to my lady.”

My lady, your heart fluttered at the words.

“Nice to meet you, “she said your name, “bye Mr. Bravo.”

“Dieter! Mr. Bravo sound so -”

She was already gone and out the door before he could finish. You scratched his tummy again with a smile,

“You are so weird. A KitKat mascot?”

“You like me anyway.”

“I do.”

The premiere the next night went well. You got all dressed up and walked the carpet with Dieter, though it was a short walk. You waited off to the side for the rest as he took his solo shots and signed autographs. Even when you weren't at his side, he kept looking back at you and it made you feel close.

Once all the necessary stuff was over, he changed into more comfortable clothes, you even got a few funny pictures with him and the Kit Kat mascot. Its appearance was confusing yet entertaining. It didn’t stay the whole time, just for the first hour. The mascot was waiting for you when you arrived at Dieter's dressing room. It was a compromise the theatre made to not distract from the event but fulfill Dieter's request. Dieter even paid the guy $200 bucks to keep the costume, which the guy agreed to.

Afterward, you headed back to Sherman Oaks. For the last thirty minutes, you've been in Dieter's backyard lying on the trampoline. You’ve talked about your favorite stars and constellations and taught him some ones he didn't know but often saw in the sky.

Dieter rolled on his side to look at you, “do you believe in Aliens?”

“Of course.”

“Me too. Think they're watching us right now?”

“They could be.”

“We could give them a show?”

“You are naughty, “you laughed, “how about you put on that Kit Kat costume, and I’ll get an alien one-”

“Ooh,” he sat up, “weird - but I like it -”

“I was just joking, you know.”

“Nope,” he laid on top of you, “it's too late now. We have to do it.”

24 hours later you were home and still buzzing from your visit.

You didn’t have to wait long to hear from him either, he checked in to make sure you boarded and then landed safely. And later that night, he sent you a text once he got home from a busy day.

Dieter: Looking at the stars, I am a little high, it was a stressful day okay... and thinking about you, that's the important part. See you soon Cosmo.

Now Spring was here.

You’ve been busy, busier than usual. With your new book finished you were officially in the time-consuming editing process. Plus, things amped up at work and you had a full plate. Dieter was busy too, as he was starting work on a new project. Your schedules meant it would be some time until you saw each other again and would have to rely on phone calls and texts in the meantime.

As you reached the middle of May, you were missing him badly, but thankfully didn’t have to wait long. You were in the middle of some work when the text came.

Dieter: I can only stay for 2 days. NEEEEEED to see you.

He arrived three days later. You were just out of the shower when he rang your bell. You unlocked the door, told him to come in then quickly pulled some clothes. He greeted you with a big kiss, then dramatically walked into the kitchen.

“Dieter you, okay?”

He collapsed on the counter, hiding his face. “Don’t be mad.”

“Okay - that is never a good way to start a sentence."

“It was awful, the worst ever -"

“Now you’re freaking me out."

He stripped off his jacket, threw it on the floor then held out his arm.

“Um?"

“The bracelet. It’s dead!”

You burst into laughter.

“No, no you don't understand, this is a very serious matter! I was wearing it - just getting my morning coffee and putting my headphones in - wired only and it just fucking - it went everywhere!" he was using sound effects now," worst day of my life. - Hey, I'm serious.”

“I know I know and you're very cute." you caressed his face, fingers in his hair, “did you follow my care instructions?"

“Yes,” he said while shaking his head no. “I could have taken better care of it.”

“These things happen, I can make you a new one.”

“No! I want the old one - the old one is special; it's the night we met.”

“Managed to salvage any of it?”

“Every-single -bead.” he dug a small bag out of his pocket. “I hope.”

“Baby, it's okay, really, I'll use this to make you a new one, a Dieter-proof one.”

While Dieter was out running errands the next day, you busied yourself with setting the mood for dinner. By the time you were done, candles decorated the table adding ambiance, and music played on the record player.

He sent you an update text, letting you know he was running a little late on his return trip. Keeping the food warm, you took a seat and scrolled on your phone. A few funny and cute videos would pass the short wait. After a couple of entertaining videos, you came across one with Dieter’s face in the background, and a woman in the foreground speaking,

“Dieter Bravo and co-star Scarlet Rose getting cozy on set -”

A knot formed in your gut, you quickly hit pause to shut her up. No, don’t look. It’s bullshit. Gossip. But the reminders don’t work, and you find yourself recalling that you and he never really had 'the talk'. For you, even without a title, Dieter was your world, and you just kind of figured it was the same for him, now you wondered, if it wasn't.

“Shit-” you press play on the video. The picture changes to one of Dieter and Scarlet looking really cozy.

"I don’t know about you, but they look really friendly to me."

You told yourself to stop but can't and then the last picture popped up. You studied it closely. At first glance, just two people speaking closely but the longer you looked-

“No, don’t fall for it. They’re just talking, and she stands too close to everyone.” You told yourself as you put your phone away.

Even as Dieter walked through the door minutes later, your mood remained tainted. You smiled, dined, and even danced a little post-dinner but the entire time you were spiraling inside.

When it came time for the dishes, Dieter volunteered to do them with you. You had a few things washed when he turned the water off and gently grabbed your shoulders.

“Hey, where’d you go tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“You weren’t here. You were here - but not here.”

“I’m fine,” you started to turn away, but he held you there,

“Come on baby, what is it?”

You tried your best to avoid headlines and gossip, but every once in a while, one got to you, and tonight it did. You sighed and leaned against the sink.

“Dieter?”

“Yeah?” he moved closer to you, concerned.

“-” you start and stop a few times, not knowing what to say, then finally spit out, “Scarlett Rose - “

At the sound of her name, Dieter sighed and cupped your cheeks with his hands. “Don’t let that get to you. It’s bullshit. Drama.”

“In the photos, you just look so…”

Dieter grabbed your hand and led you to the table. Once you both seated, he looked you in the eye as he held your hands. “This is on me. I should've - I was so busy, then you got busy too. I didn’t push for anything definitive because I was worried.”

“About?”

“If you’d want to wait around for me that much, there may be times you don’t see me for half a year. It’s not easy."

“I know.”

“My past, my reputation. I was scared you’d lose interest after a while.”

“That’s crazy, it’s you, how could I ever get bored?”

“There’s that smile,” he kissed your forehead, “let me be clear then. I’m off the market. There’s this sexy as fuck super smart astronomer -”

Your smile widened as relief washed over you.

Dieter grew more animated as he talked, “She’s amazing! That’s where my heart is. Not some actress - you hear me.”

“Yes,”

“I’m crazy about you, just you. Do you have any idea how much I look forward to seeing you?” he kissed your lips.

“Thank you, “you kissed him back, “that astronomer you speak of happens to be crazy about you too.”

Dieter took a deep breath while admiring you, “Let’s make it official. You and me.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he wrapped you in his arms, “I'm sorry, I should have asked earlier.”

“You asked now, this is still special.”

Dieter pulled back from the hug first, your name soft on his lips, “I love you.”

Relief and joy washed over you, “I love you too Dieter.”

The year flew by, and soon it was November.

Busy with your book and work, you didn't get to fly out to LA as much as you wanted to. Dieter was also away filming. How little you saw each other was difficult but you made the best of it. As the days got closer to December you were filled with glee. You already thought the holidays were special, now Dieter gave them extra meaning.

When a lull in your schedule came, you spent it at home and decided to do some deep cleaning. You were in the middle of that when Dieter called. Turning the music down, you answered the phone,

“I'm outside.”

“Really?” you lit up as you looked out the window to see him waving at you.

At this point, you haven't seen each other in months and missed him dearly. Happily, you rushed to the door and let him in. Jumping into his arms, you greeted each other with a hug and kiss.

“I missed you,” he whispered against your skin. “I know this song, we did this together.”

“I know, memories and all.” You grabbed your phone and showed it to him. It’s a playlist with his photo as the background titled ‘Kiss me under the mistletoe. “I know, it’s a little cheesy but it started with songs from the night, now I add any song that makes me think of you.”

“You are adorable. “Excitedly, Dieter pulled up his phone and followed the playlist. Once that was done, he took a pouch out of his hand. "I have something for you.”

“A visit and a gift, lucky me.”

With one arm around you, he presented the pouch with the other. You opened the bag and pulled out a set of keys.

“So, you can come to Sherman Oaks anytime you want even if I’m not there.”

“Dieter-” you hold them up with a smile.

“I know we can’t move in together, technically - full time - your life and career are here, mine is in LA and wherever the work takes me. But, we can have a home base, together.”

Feeling giddy, you rushed him with a kiss. “I gotta make you a set of keys then, two home bases are better than one.”

As you savor being in his arms, you think about the future. You and Dieter's relationship included lots of travel back and forth and one day it would be nice to be in the same place.

Only part of your job at the Planetarium was on site, you wonder, if you get your job fully remote, maybe you could move out there temporarily? It was an idea with entering, especially as you and Dieter got more serious as time went on.

You didn’t plan it this way, a book tour lining up with the holidays but here you were.

After publishing your sci-fi book (eight years in the making) in the spring, it was slow going, the sales and coverage you hoped for weren't there. Then something happened over the summer and fall, and your book took like wildfire.

Due to some issues, your last date, which was supposed to be days ago, got delayed, which is why you were in another city days before Christmas, and not at home LA with Dieter. To be fair, his schedule got crazy last minute too, and he just made it back a day ago.

You lovingly planned a whole holiday week together, a plan then had to abandon. It put you in a down mood and all you wanted was to be cozied up with him, not in some hotel room.

Dieter: “It's okay baby, we’ll see each other tomorrow.”

You: “I know I just - I had the perfect week planned and we didn’t get to do any of it.”

Dieter: “I have you, that's all I need. Fuck the rest of it.”

Later that night, as you prepared for bed, you got a text from Dieter with a link. You settled in, set two alarms for your flight then watched the video.

Interviewer: We’re on set and behind the scenes with Dieter Bravo! Okay, first question and no cheating, what are the last two artists you listened to?”

On the screen, Dieter was in his usual comfortable attire and wearing sunglasses.

Dieter: Easy. Snoop Dog, Fleetwood Mac.

Interview: Wow, what a fun mix!

Dieter: It’s my lady’s playlist, good stuff.

Dieter lowered his shades and winked at the camera, and you knew, no matter what other fans were watching and losing their shit, that wink was solely for you. He even tapped his arm where your bracelet lived before the interview continued.

‘We are beginning our descent into Los Angeles-’

The overhead announcement pulled you from your light sleep. A light tingling sensation washed over you, followed by the urge to smile. This happened every time you landed in LA to see Dieter. Time was on your mind as well, today marked one year since you met. The night you met often replayed in your mind like a movie, even 12 months out, it was still hard to believe.

Off the plane now, you moved through the airport, each step getting you closer and closer to your love as anticipation buzzed within you. Dieter always sent the same car and driver, so you went to pick-ups and looked for a familiar face. You’re only down there for a few minutes when you see him holding a sign scribbled with hearts, in the middle was the nickname for you, ‘Cosmo’.

“I cannot handle how cute you are!” You hurried your steps as he ran toward you.

As you went in for a kiss, Dieter pulled a mistletoe from his pocket and held it over your head.

“It’s tradition now. Happy anniversary!”

“Happy anniversary,” you echoed before kissing him.

This past fall, you and Dieter talked about an anniversary date. You met on Christmas Eve and started to see each other casually after that. But you didn’t make it official until the

springtime. When Dieter said time was just a man-made thing and you didn’t have to adhere to it, you both decided to make Christmas Eve your official anniversary date.

As soon as you arrived at the house, Dieter asked you to close your eyes and led you to the living room.

“I never have time to have a tree. The one time I did, I didn’t decorate it, it just sat there naked. I was upstairs painting and smoking a joint then I thought, do trees get cold? And I put a robe on it.”

You laughed, “Of course you would.”

Dieter guided you into place, resting his hands on your hips. “Don’t worry, I used real decorations this year. Only the best for my love - open your eyes in 3-2-1.”

You gasped as you moved close to the tree. “Dieter!”

“I stayed up all night to get it right -” he watched as you checked out the ornaments and lights, “I might have got too obsessed with getting it right,” he started counting on his fingers, “you should have seen it. I had Pinterest boards, watched videos, took a screenshot of the tree in your favorite Christmas movie…”

“It’s perfect!”

It was the tree of your dreams, every detail from the ornaments, the color of the lights, the height.

You look back, finding him smiling at you. “I know we were supposed to do it together.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he hugged you from behind and rested his head on your shoulder. "A little sleep deprivation is a small price to pay for that look in your eyes. That’s what I wanted to see.”

“I love you so much.”

He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, “I love you too.”

After a long eventful day, you and Dieter lay in bed warm and cozy, cuddling as moonlight streamed through the windows casting its silvery rays across your faces. Sleep called, its lullaby pleasing to your ears, but no match for the sweet trail of kisses Dieter planted on your shoulder.

“I read your book again on my flight last week.”

“You did?” you smiled feeling peaceful.

“Question,” he reached over to the nightstand, grabbing your book. He flipped to a specific page and pointed at it. “This sex scene, was this inspired by that night after the concert?”

“In New York? When you were absolutely feral? Yes, rewrote the original scene. What can I say, you were my muse.”

“I knew it!” He threw his hands in the air. “Wait! The hair, the way he speaks - was he inspired by the space movie I didyears ago?” Dieter's eyes flew open wide.

You pressed your finger to your lips, “If you don’t tell, I won't.”

“This was so fucking hot baby.”

“Have access to a sci-fi movie set where we can role-play?” you asked suggestively.

“I would do this in a heartbeat.”

You sat up and scooted closer to him. “Sometimes I still pinch myself to make sure this is real,” you confess happily.

Dieter had a response ready but found himself tongue-tied as he looked into your eyes; you took his breath away, and he knew you still would when you were both old and grey. Slowly, Dieter tilted his head and moved in for a kiss.

In each other's embrace, you stay here a while; in this space of love and warmth, trust and safety; home. Your hearts beating as one, drums in unison. Every brush of the lips, every caress, every pang of desire further deepening the bond between you.

Dieter pulled you beneath him on the bed, teasing his lips against yours as you wrapped your legs around him.

“You're not the only one with a present we need to wait for.”

“Is that so?” Earlier in the evening as you exchanged gifts, you told him you had one more. It was something you were working hard at and hoped to present him with tonight but it wasn’t ready.

“Mmmhmm. We gotta go to a place to see it. Road trip in a few days?”

“I’d love that,” you replied while playing with his hair.

Dieter took you on a short road trip, it was filled with sightseeing and off-the-beaten-track stops. You already had so much fun by the time you reached the destination you didn’t know what to expect, or how he would top it all.

The observatory was amazing. Dieter loved watching you geek out as you took it all in. He gave you plenty of space to explore before guiding you to your gift.

“Ooh a telescope?”

He spoke off to the side with the guide who then put it in a specific position.

“Sweetheart, I want you to look through this and tell me what you see.

“Okay,” the little kid in yours was so giddy from this whole trip. You loved any excuse to look at the stars. Once you settled in, you noticed the telescope was zoomed in as close as

possible with a star in the center.

“Wanna know her name?” Dieter kneeled beside you, softly whispering your name in your ear.

“No way!” you looked at him with a wide smile and tears in the corner of your eyes.

He nodded enthusiastically, “way.”

“I’m a fucking star in the galaxy!”

“Thank you for an amazing year baby, and so many more to come.”

Overwhelmed with joy, you jump into his arms. The two of you fall backward as you kiss.

2024

You were nearly shaking with anticipation as the day came. You had breakfast, spent some time at the Met, and then finally took Dieter to his present. No matter how much he tried to get details out of you, you didn’t cave. But when you arrived at the address, his eyes flew open in surprise.

“No fucking way-” he grabbed your arm, “baby?”

“Yes.”

“How?!”

“I have my connections too. I may not be a famous movie star, but it turns out 6 degrees of separation can really be helpful.” you pointed to the tattoo artist's name, “turns out his father used to be an Astronomy professor and knew my boss.”

“This is the best present ever!” Dieter jumped up and down, then pulled you into a big hug.

He had a few tattoos, all small. He had a bigger piece in mind, there was only one guy he wanted to do it. A man who was booked years out, even for Hollywood stars, and worked all over the world. He was rarely ever at his NY studio these days. Dieter hoped to work with him but didn’t know if it would ever really happen - until you.

“You worked your magic baby, amazing!” he gave you a big kiss and then rushed inside, pulling you along behind him.

Life with Dieter was exciting, funny, sensual, and at times frustrating. You knew who he was, and what his life was like. So going in you had some context, but being his girlfriend and living it real time was a wild ride. Still, you and Dieter’s love deepened with each day.

This fairy tale turned reality was still strange, and you were thankful for every second of it, even the upsetting parts but this was still your reality - you were the woman who captured his heart. Dieter wasn’t shy about his romance or how in love he was. He was super protective of you, while also letting the world know yes, he was taken, happily.

“I’m a very lucky man, and yes, I’m in love. She’s fucking amazing.” He said in one interview.

He didn’t like paparazzi getting close to you and wasn’t shy about telling reporters and others to mind their business and give you space. He even took you to events, which was wild the first time, it was a trip and felt like a dream - you still have the photo taken of you two on the red carpet on your photo wall. He looked so happy, smiling as he buried his face in your hair; all the flashing lights and big names, and all he saw was you.

As the year moved along, there were still long periods where you didn’t see each other, and at times, you missed him so much it hurt. But you always knew you'd reunite, and it made the reunions so much sweeter. As for your living situation, it was kind of all over, your place, his place, and everything in between. Though you were making the best of it, it was getting a little exhausting at times. You knew some changes may be needed, possibly sooner than later, but you were also anxious about upsetting the wacky balance that was your lives together.

Now, three weeks before Christmas, you made your way to LA. You’d stay for two months this time, and we're looking forward to it. After a busy shoot, Dieter had four weeks of vacation coming up and was looking forward to spending every second of it with you.

But your reunion had to wait just a little longer. You’d spend these first two weeks alone, decorating the house, getting the tree up, and writing. You had an idea for your third book and the words were flying, wanting to ride the inspiration wave, you decided to spend the time before his arrival getting as much work done as possible, then nothing but relaxing once he arrived. Unlike last year, you were the one arriving early while Dieter would be late. He hoped to return from the UK by Christmas Eve, and then you’d start your vacation

together.

After landing, you rented a car and headed to his house. Upon approaching, your jaw dropped, the house was decked out, with lights, Santa, snowmen, and elves - all of it and you couldn't help but laugh because there was just so much of everything, like Dieter decorated in one of his manic states.

“Oh Dieter,” you laughed, imagining him frantically decorating before flying out. He must have done this to give you more time to write.

Once inside the house, you dropped off your bags by the door then followed the sound of music to the living room. Was one of his assistants here? The occasional house staff? You were happy to do things on your own, so when you visited you didn’t need extra hands around.

Half expecting to see the part-time butler or one of his assistants, you turned the corner and entered the living room.

“Oh my god-”

You raised your hands to your mouth, taking in the gorgeous Christmas tree. Dieter was currently on a ladder, adding a star on the top.

“Surprise!” He said with a big smile.

“‘What are you doing here?”

“That's kind of how surprises work baby, you don’t tell the person - “

“Smartass,” you made your way to him as he climbed down. His pockets were stuffed with ornaments, and he had a row of lights round his neck. “You look like a Christmas tree.”

“Two for one- “he grinned then dug a mistletoe from his pocket,

“Gladly,” you sing, cupping his cheeks with your hands as you kiss him.

Dieter stopped in the doorway as you typed at your computer, your fingers moving quickly as the words left you at lightning speed. He loved watching you work, loved watching you do anything really. And he was more than happy to turn this room into your writing sanctuary, it was filled with excess canvases and this house was always too big for him, well - until you got here, only then did it really start to feel like home.

Leaving you to it, he stepped away quietly and returned to the kitchen to unbag the groceries. It’s been three days since you arrived, three blissful days, days he dreamed of on his long nights and early mornings on set.

He was happy, over the moon really but he was also so damn nervous his stomach was in knots. This was going well, better than he expected, better than he ever maintained any other relationship before.

The truth was, he fell in love with you that very first night. You had his heart, then and there. And he spent a bunch of time afraid he’d fuck it up, so he convinced himself it was good - being so busy - he couldn't fuck things up that way. He was thankful he came to his senses and made it official that night at your place, he deserved this, you were meant to be together.

After dinner, you cleared up the kitchen then snuggled on the couch to watch one of your favorite holiday movies. As the movie went on, you noticed Dieter was distracted, in fact, he had been during all of dinner.

“Hey,” you turned the movie off, “you, okay?”

He cleared his throat as he looked at you, clearly nervous.

“Dieter,”

You took his hand in yours, worried about what it could be. He did just film with an old party buddy and fellow actor of his, was this related to that? Was he feeling tempted? Whatever it was, you’d support him and help him through it.

He ran his hands through his hair once, then a second time, and took a deep breath.

“Okay, I am officially very worried. Talk to me.”

“I think a kiss will make me feel better.”

“I’ll give you all the kisses you want,” after the kiss, you wrapped your arms around him while holding eye contact. “Talk to me.”

He wet his lips, then closed his eyes. You can do this. Don’t be a chicken shit. Just ask!

When he opened his eyes again, they were soft and full of love. He held your face in his hands,

“You're the love of my life. My soulmate. I knew it the moment I saw you. Marry me?”

“Yes, I'll marry you!”

There were no awkward pauses, no hesitation, this was 100% a yes and you could feel your soul dancing. Dieter was your other half, the missing puzzle piece you didn't even know you needed. Happy as a puppy, Dieter littered your face with kisses.

“Oh shit, the ring, wait -"he got it out of his pocket and down on one knee, “let me do this right.”

Before you could tell him, his way was perfect, he proceeded, the sound of your name was like poetry on his tongue,

“Will you marry me?”

You kneeled too, “of course, I’ll marry you - as long as there’s chilled Kit Kats and karaoke.”

Dieter laughed and placed the ring on your finger. “You’re fucking amazing.”

You stared at your hand, happy tears falling down your cheeks. “Holy shit! Mrs. Bravo!"

He smiled softly, admiring you while caressing the length of your arm. “Dreams do come true my love.”

“Damn right they do,” you took one more look at the ring, then at him, savoring the look in his eyes, “Mrs. Bravo?!"

“Mrs. Bravo.” He repeated as he pressed his lips to yours.

As an exception I posted this in full. I no longer post full work on tumblr, just on A03.

I’ve been down with a bad cold over a week now so pls forgive any horrible grammar issues, my head is super congested, did my best 💜Arte

✨Previous Secret Santas: one, two

✨My Pedro character masterlist

✨Masterlist

More moodboards below

Be kind, reblog 💜it helps more people see it. ✨

#Dieter Bravo #pedrostoriesgift24 #pedrostories #Dieter bravo x f reader #fic: Kiss me under the mistletoe

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sp0o0kylights · 2 years ago

Text

Part One: Merry Crisis

It’s also on A03 (this chapter will go up too but not for a bit bc I have stupid adult work to do)

Five days after New Years and Steve Harrington was haunting Eddie’s head.

This time at least, it was consensual.

Mostly.

“I thought you said New Year's resolutions were a total waste of time and a conformist’s mmrrph--” Gareth cuts off as a ringed hand claps (gently) over his mouth, Eddie’s glare burning a hole in the side of his best friend’s head.

“No one asked you to comment.” Eddie informs him darkly.

“He’s got you there, Eds.” Jeff teases, seated on a bin in Gareth’s garage, friends occupying the couch across from him. “It is one of your yearly rants.”

“New Years Resolutions are just a convenient way for normies to understand my quests.” Eddie sniffs, ignoring the fact that he’d been going on about this since he showed up, several hours ago.

He releases Gareth’s mouth, springing up to pace another circuit round the garage. “I refuse to repeat another year in this god-awful high school--and!”

Spinning on his heels, Eddie flings a hand in the air, the exact same way he had when he auditioned for Sherlock Holmes in Hawkin High’s performance of Hounds of Baskerville. “It is my duty as Hellfire’s DM to figure out what the hell those freshmen are wrapped up in with Harrington!”

“Rii-iiight.” Gareth remarks. “I’m sure your obsession with this has nothing to do with those, what did you call them?”

Grant covers a laugh with a cough as Gareth pretends to think before saying: “Harrington’s big ol’ puppy dog eyes?”

Eddie’s face goes red. “I told you, I’m not crushing on Steve!”

“Bro.” Grant says, expression calling out Eddie’s lie better than words ever could.

“The entire planet knows you have a crush on him, Eds.” Gareth adds, leveling his best friend with a knowing look. “Frankly I’m amazed Steve himself hasn’t figured it out.”

“Shut it!” Eddie hissed, face aflame. “This is about everything else! What he’s hiding! Why the kids--”

“--worship him.” Jeff, Grant and Gareth all finish as one, their impromptu chorus deflating Eddie like a sad balloon.

“We know.” Grant says. “You think Harrington and the kids are wrapped up in some kind of crazy conspiracy that's eating them all alive and because you have a compulsive desire to solve every mystery put in front of you, you can’t leave it alone. This is starting to become something you should really like, work on man.”

Eddie turns his glare on Grant.

“You need to drop out of that AP psychology class.” He demands with another sniff. “It’s rotting your brain.”

“Uh huh.” Grant says, voice dripping in sarcasm.

“You;’ll see.” Eddie mutters as he resumes his pacing. “You’ll all see when I finally figure it out. You’ll be all,” Eddie straightens, clutching his hands together and squeezing them against his chest, “Oh-my-gawd, Eddie, holy shit, you were so right, they were hiding a huge secret!”

“Keep dreamin’ bud.” Jeff says flatly, prompting laughs from Gareth and Grant.

Eddie takes off a shoe and throws it at him.

(Jeff swears it was worth it.)

xXx

10 days after New Years and Steve Harrington was right there.

Right.

There.

It would be easy to walk across the parking lot, strike up a conversation. Hell, the kids' presence makes it even easier, Eddie knows all he has to do is talk about them before Steve drives them home.

He just--has to do it.

"You do know the first step is actually talking to him right?" Jeff teases, leaning against the school’s doorway.

Eddie startles, flushing scarlet.

"Shut up!" He snaps, turning around to run his hand over his face.

God why was this so hard!?

He's talked to plenty of people. Hell, he's talked to Harrington before. Talking was the thing Eddie arguably did best and suddenly he just fucking…couldn't!?

"He's waving at you." Jeff observes.

Eddie whips back around to face the parking lot--to find that Harrington wasn't even facing their direction.

Jeff chuckles.

"Oh screw you!" Eddie shoves his shoulder into Jeff’s, glowering.

Jeff playfully nudges him back. "Just go talk to him man. He didn't bite at the party, and he left you that note, so he's clearly open to it."

"I know.” Eddie grumbles, moving so he could lean against the opposite side of the doorway.

“So what’s holding you back?” Jeff turns to look at him now, as Eddie tangles a finger into a few strands of his hair. “It’s not like you hesitate instead of jumping into something head first.”

Eddie hides in his hair for a moment, unsure of how he wanted to handle this question.

Jeff knew he was gay. All the Corroded Coffin guy’s knew he was gay, after the first (and last) time he tried to buy product from a supplier that wasn’t Rick.

(Eddie was smart, but he’d been young back then. Hadn’t caught on to the fact the weed he’d been sold was laced with who-knew-what.

What he did know was that when he and the boys tried it out; Grant had given a very emotional speech about love and acceptance, Jeff wouldn’t stop hugging people, Gareth ended up crying over gender issues and Eddie had admitted he was flamingly gay.

He never bought from another supplier again, even if he did technically owe the guy who’d brought him and his best friends closer together.)

Being gay wasn’t exactly the issue.

It was being gay, and having a blatant crush on Steve--the guy who the Hellfire kids loved. The guy who had surprised Eddie by being decent and downright fun.

The guy who kept insisting he and Buckley were “Platonic with a Capital P”and even with Robin climbing all over him like a lemur, he had in fact kept his hands and eyes to perfectly respectable places.

Who was practically built to appeal to Eddie, between his stupid sexy smile and the weird mystery he was wrapped up in, the same one that caused his smiles to drop the second he knew no one was paying attention.

Add in the fact he’d played D&D once before and it was like God had made Eddie’s perfect match.

Of course because Eddie’s relationship with a deity of any kind was agonistic at best, they’d made Steve not only the straightest man to ever rule a high school, but also dangled him in front of Eddie constantly.

Like a treat he could never, ever have, but will always crave.

“Oh he’s actually waving at you this time.” Jeff says, and despite the high chance of this being another joke, Eddie looks anyway.

Sure enough there was Harrington, dumb little grin on his face, waving his hand.

Eddie managed to get his brain to function long enough to wave back.

“Wow Eds, you actually waved at him. That’s a lot of progress for you.” Gareth chimes in, appearing in between his friends with a smirk.

“We’re proud of you buddy.” Grant adds, standing behind Gareth.

Eddie groans aloud. “I hate you all.” He mutters, trying to keep a smile on his face for Steve until the guy turns back to herald the children into the car.

“No you don’t.” Gareth sing-songs, to the snickers of Jeff and Grant.

And no, he doesn't--but fuck if Eddie didn’t want to wring all their necks.

xXx

January 13th, Eddie finally gets his first resolution breakthrough.

It came in the form of Sinclair’s girlfriend, oddly enough, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I’m not Lucas’s girlfriend.” The redhead spat, which Eddie thought was a hell of a lot of anger for someone who he had not been formally introduced to but had flung herself into his passenger seat anyway, with a declaration that he would drive her home.

(He, of course, had been about to protest until Max reminded him with a glare that they were neighbors--which had the effect of making Steve look relieved, like Eddie was doing him some kind of massive favor.

A favor Eddie wanted.

“For totally normal non crush related reasons Gareth, god!”)

Currently Max is staring out the window as Eddie drives home, arms crossed and in a full sulk.

Eddie recognizes it in her the same way he recognizes it in himself, and knows intimately that he has a chance to be to her, what Wayne was to him.

Someone who didn’t just see the problems he had, but acted on them.

That began with a conversation.

“So not that sitting in awkward silence isn’t totally fun, but uh, why am I driving you home instead of Harrington?” Eddie asks, watching Max out of the corners of his eyes.

She doesn’t even flinch. “What, and miss the chance to ride in the drug mobile?”

He expects the snappish response but has to give Max credit--she is absolutely the most vicious of Steve’s kids.

“Ok fair,” He says, because getting angry back was what she wanted. Or at least, what Eddie wanted, back when he was in Max’s shoes. “But don’t all you kids like, worship King Steve? Thought you’d want your beloved babysitting to drive you home..”

Max’s shoulders hunch immediately, her jaw clenching. “Don’t call him that.”

“Babysitter?” Eddie questions.

“King Steve, you ass.” She bites back. “If you like him like Lucas and Dustin swear you do, then you wouldn’t be an dick.”

Quieter, she mutters, “He hates that nickname.”

“Hate to break it to you, but Steve gave himself that nickname.” Eddie says, if only to buy time while he swallows the fact that the kids have decided he and Steve aren't just cool with each other, but like each other.

Obviously not like-like, as in romantic like, because they weren't psychic, but--

'Focus, idiot! Max is still talking!'

Max rolls her eyes, huffing angrily as she finally tears her gaze away from the window. “You don’t get it.”

“I sure as shit don’t and won’t.” Eddie agrees easily, and has to look away to keep the laughter off his face at the confused look it nets him. “Not unless you want to clue me in.”

She chews over that for a moment, before apparently coming to a decision. “You’re annoying.”

“Oh come on Red, if you’re gonna insult me at least do it right. Annoying is boring.” Eddie fakes a yawn, and this time does laugh at Max’s outright offended face.

Thankfully, the antics get him exactly what he wants.

An answer.

"Steve saw the real world and decided he wanted to be a better person. To grow up and leave all the stupid high school petty shit behind." Max says, and for a moment it's almost like she's speaking to someone else.

Likely the person she really is mad at, Eddie assumes.

"Calling him King Steve just takes all that progress away, and for what? Cause you're jealous?"

She's on a roll now. Eddie remains silent, knowing Max needs to get this out.

That this rant isn't aimed at him.

"You're mad that things were easy for him? Because newsflash, they weren't. He put in the effort to be a good guy, could even," Max fakes a dramatic gasp, "--apologize!"

An idea takes shape, both of the unsurprising source of the younger teens' hurt and frustration, and why she at least defends Harrington so hard.

Eddie may not know how exactly Max fits into "The Party" (or even who all is included within it) but it's clear she's just as close to Steve as the rest.

Maybe even a touch moreso, in a way that's eclipsed by Henderson alone.

Max is still going. "Steve's a genuinely good person and he's earned the right to be acknowledged as one!"

Her eyes are wet when she finishes and Max angrily swipes at them with her sleeve.

Eddie knows better than to comment on it, but does take a moment to think her words over.

"Have you seen it too?" He decides to ask. It's the part that sticks out to him, so it becomes the thread he decides to pull.

Max blinks. "What?"

"The real world. Have you seen it too?"

"Yeah." Max admits, after a long moment of silence, chewing on her lower lip. "I did. And I wish I hadn't."

"Sucks huh?"

"You don't know half of it."

"I might not know the exact parts you saw," Eddie agrees, as he pulls up in front of his trailer. "But I have seen plenty of other nasty bits and bobs."

He puts his van in park. "Just because the monster changes shape doesn't make it any less of a danger, you know?"

Max sits with that for a moment. Eddie sits with her, his music on even if he has the volume turned down low.

Waits to see if she'll say more, or if this is all he's getting.

There’s a slight hesitation--as if for a moment, Max considers opening up--but something in her balks and she opens the door instead.

“Thanks for the ride.” She grumbles, quiet enough that he almost doesn’t hear, before slamming the door and walking fast to her trailer.

The lights are off, and the car he knows belongs to her mother isn’t in the driveway.

It’s not unusual to be home alone at this hour. Not for Hawkins kids, and especially not for trailer park kids like them, but for the first time, Eddie finds himself wondering how often she’s alone.

“Hey, Red!” He calls, as he makes his way out of the van.

She turns to look at him, and Eddie realizes he must be getting a glimpse of what every adult used to see in him. Fury and discontent, all rolling over a sadness that’s bone deep and afraid to face daylight.

“You ever wanna explain it to me, you’re welcome to come over.” He says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at his own trailer.

“Whatever.” Max says with an eye roll, before storming to her front door.

Eddie waits for the lights to go on, before retreating back to his own house, feeling like he at least established something.

Even if it was just proof that he wasn’t going to blow up or brush her off like everyone else.

xXx

January 13th's luck didn't end there.

A few hours after Eddie made sure Steve's attack chihuahua child made it home safe, a car pulls up in front of her trailer.

Curious (and nosey as fuck) Eddie peers out the window to spot Harrington’s Beemer flick its lights off, owner crawling out and up to Max's front door with an arm full of takeout.

Steve stands there for a while, alternating between knocking and not-quite yelling, before finally putting the food down.

Eddie knows now that Steve's some kind of pseudo parent to these kids, that the intent he has towards them is a combination of brotherly and maternal.

Can't help himself from the opportunity that arises when Harrington moves to peek into one of Max's trailer windows, though.

"Damn Harrington," Eddie calls out, after quietly slipping onto his front porch. "Didn't know you were the kinda creep to stare into teenage girl's windows."

Steve spins, startled, and nearly goes down on the gravel while doing so.

Eddie laughs--it's like watching Bambi on ice--but regrets it immediately when the younger man trots over to him.

Puts his hands up and is about to defend himself out of sheer habit.

"Is she okay?" Steve asks, trotting up the two steps so he can lower his voice.

Eddie wiggles his raised hands in a “maybe” sort of gesture before lowering them.

“She’s fine right now, but she’s definitely upset.”

Steve hums, peering worriedly at the opposing trailer, takeout food sitting innocently by Max’s door. “

“She’s been upset for a while. I just…” He trails off, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do for her, you know? She’s not as easy to figure out as the others.”

Which isn’t the least bit surprising. At least, it isn’t to Eddie.

While he can’t speak for their missing fourth member, the remaining three freshmen are the kind to wear their emotions on their sleeves, in their own ways. Mike and Dustin compete for loudest but even Lucas, the most likely to let things go, eventually explodes.

All Harrington has to do to handle any of their issues is simply see that something is wrong, and then ask about it.

The drive from the high school to the trailer park took less than fifteen minutes but in them, Eddie knew immediately that Max was far more like himself at heart. Angry at everything and everyone, using insults or humor to distract from her real problems.

Eddie now was better than he was, the eleven year old kid who’d been dumped on his Uncle, extremely wary of adults and furious at the world at large.

Like recognizes like though, even if he’s made progress.

“I think the best thing you can do is keep being there for her.” Eddie admits quietly, because this is an area he can actually provide some insight for. “That all that anger isn’t going to push you away. Just don’t be surprised if it takes her a while to understand you won’t abandon her like everybody else did.”

“Huh.” Steve says, and Eddie shouldn’t be surprised that Steve is taking him seriously. Not after the not-Christmas party, but he is.

That’s part of the mystery of Steve Harrington, after all.

The way Steve never quite reacts the way Eddie thinks he’s going to.

“If she doesn’t take the food can you let me know?” Steve asks, and he sounds so sad about it that Eddie couldn’t possibly refuse, even if he’d wanted to.

“Sure thing man.” He agrees.

Harrington watches Max’s door for a moment longer before heaving himself off the porch with a sigh

“Oh,” He says, turning around partway to his car. “ We’re gonna have a movie night next Friday night. You should come.”

‘Bing-fucking-go.’

“Well how could I say no to the King himself? Tell me the time and I’ll be there.” Eddie says, and then watches Steve’s face as he winces.

Apparently, Red was right.

Steve doesn’t rip his head off for the nickname though. Plows right on ahead, as if Eddie hadn’t called him it at all.

"We were planning on making it just the adults--or at least, not the freshmen.” He nods towards Max’s trailer.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Oh I’m sure they’re just delighted to be left out.”

"You’d be surprised.” Steve says with a long-suffering look. “I've been informed I need more adult friends."

Eddie can’t help but tease, though he softens his voice and grins to take the teeth out of it. "Band geek and a bunch of fourteen years olds not good enough for you?"

"You’re forgetting my ex girlfriend." Steve adds, with his own self deprecating tone.

“Well damn Harrington, guess the town freak might actually be a step up for you!” Eddie says, loving that this version of Steve is willing to banter like this.

“I dunno man, I think that nickname might be overhyped.” Steve says, and there’s that grin back on his face, the one he wore when he was stealing meaningless corporate trophies out of his father’s office. “I don’t think you’re that freaky at all.”

He dips down in a movement that takes Eddie a moment to realize is him mimicking the curtsey he had given Eddie at the Christmas party, before getting in the Beemer.

Then he’s gone, leaving Eddie trying to recover on the porch, wondering if the last part of that conversation actually happened or if he just wanted it so badly he dreamed the whole thing.

(When he looks back over to Max’s trailer, the takeout by the door is gone.)

xXx

20 days after New Years and Eddie didn’t know what he expected from a movie night at Steve’s-- but it wasn’t getting his ass kicked at beer pong.

Of course, this may have been his fault.

It started when Steve, three beers into a home recording of Animal House, made an off comment about Nancy Wheeler once putting all of Hawkin’s to shame at a party.

(“Her aim has always been insane.” He'd added, as Nancy rolled her eyes and tried to hide her pleased grin behind a hand.

Eddie had been a little surprised to see Steve hadn’t been kidding about Nancy coming--but also realized that Steve might have been serious when he’d joked about not really having a lot of friends.

In Eddie's head, a miniature bat version of himself donned a detective's hat and cape, whipping out a notepad to dutifully write down; ‘Clue one: Steve has very few friends.’

“You, Nancy Wheeler, beat out four teams of dumb jocks…at beer pong?” Eddie asked, in total disbelief.

“I did.” Nancy told him smugly. “And I could do it again.”

“Really?” Eddie had said and it hadn’t been intended as a challenge, but it was taken as one.)

Three games in, the beer having a long run out (they were actually playing “Vodka Shot Ball") and Eddie has to concur.

Nancy Wheeler was in fact, god’s gift to throwing small orange balls into cups.

“How are you doing this!?” Eddie yells, throwing his hands in the air as Nancy sinks her last shot, Robin shrieking in victory behind her.

Hand on her hip, Nancy gives him a lazy, smug smile. “I suppose,” She says, tilting her head, sounding for all the world like a cat who’s caught a canary, “--it would be my incredibly good aim.”

Robin, who previously had been paired with Steve before insisting they switch (and who is more than a little drunk), shouts; “Take that Munson!” before grabbing Nancy’s wrists, pulling her into a dance.

Laughing, Nancy goes with her, their celebration a stark contrast to the other half of the table where Steve is leaning heavily on his elbows.

"Alright. Maybe, you do have some ungodly skills." Eddie admits, putting his hands on his head. “Forgive me for doubting you, oh Queen of beer pong.”

"Oh, now you admit it?" Steve mutters playfully, head hanging low. "Couldn't have done it before I ran out of beer?"

"Hush Harrington, you enjoyed it." Eddie grins knocking a hip into his teammates

He too, is more than a touch drunk, despite having been on Nancy’s team for the prior two rounds.

Vodka-Shot Ball, as it turns out, is enough to really mess a person up if you miss enough.

"Did I?” Steve moans, before hiccupping.

(“Harrington you’re a jock, are you missing on purpose!?” Eddie had asked early in this game, when Steve’s shots had gone from fairly decent to fucking abysmal.

“He’s two shots in, Eddie.” Robin had spoken for her soulmate, as she aimed a ball at a cup. “All those concussions don’t play nice with hard alcohol. Why do you think I switched sides?”

“I’ll remember this betrayal, Rob.” Steve grumbled in response. “See if I ever do your hair for you again.”

Batective Eddie promptly scribbled; ‘Clue Two, Steve has had a lot of concussions and can no longer handle a lot of hard liquor’ down on his notepad, puffing on his little old-timey pipe. ‘Also he does hair.’)

“Now that Stubbornson over here has finally admitted defeat,” Steve says, “Can we please go lay down? We're way too drunk for another round.”

“Speak for yourself, Lightweight. I’m fine.” Eddie tells him, walking towards the door to the kitchen.

Of course life cannot tolerate him being smooth and so Eddie walks dead-on into the closed glass door rather than the open one next to it.

He staggers back and loses his balance, falling hard on his ass.

“Shit!” Someone curses.

“You okay Eddie?” Someone else asks.

“Yeah.” He moans, rubbing at his head.

Wheeler appears next to him, shooing his hands away from his face so she could examine him.

“You’re an idiot.” Nancy informs him calmly, hands expertly checking his head. Her touch is professional, but Eddie's surprised by it anyway, “But I think you’ll live.”

Eddie squints up at her. “How come you’re not drunk?” He asks, and okay, yeah, he definitely hears the slur in his voice this time.

"I only had three drinks across all three games." Nancy informs him sweetly. "None of them were vodka."

"I hate you." Eddie moans dramatically, before opting to lay down on the porch.

“No you don’t.” Nancy says confidently, and then pats his head, before getting up from her crouch. “How are you doing Steve?”

“Kill me.” Comes Harrington's voice from across the patio, sounding very pathetic.

Eddie wishes he could pet his head.

“Denied!” Robin calls out. “Don’t even joke about that dingus, you got too close last summer as it was.”

(Batective Eddie, swaying a little with a beer bottle in his paw, tries to write that down.

He somewhat succeeds.)

Nancy disappears for a moment and Eddie wills himself to sit up--or at the very least roll to where Harrington and Buckley are.

"I'm going to drive myself and Robin home.” Nancy announces as she reappears, alongside a hovering bottled water.

Gratefully, he takes it.

With a tone that’s only this side of too-sweet, she asks; “Eddie? Would you like a ride?”

He considers it.

On one hand, that means he leaves his van here. So someone else has drive him to get it back in the morning (unless Harrington drives it to him and while Eddie finds himself weirdly unopposed to that idea, he doesn’t want to impose.

…Or inflict the current sad state of his van’s interior on Steve before he knows the guy better.)

On the other hand, he’s clearly too drunk to drive, which means more time with a drunk Steve Harrington.

That’s gotta be good for figuring out clues, right?

(In his head, Batective Eddie shoots him a thumbs up from where he lays, facedown on the floor.)

"If I get into a car I’m going to hurl." He announces. “So I’m gonna pass.”

Nancy makes a very unlady like noise, and Eddie grins, finally managing to lurch up to his elbows. “Nancy Wheeler was that a snort!?” He teases gleefully, as she rolls her eyes.

“Maybe.” She says, then holds out a hand.

Eddie slaps his in it, but does his best not to pull on her. Instead he mostly uses her for balance as he works his way to his feet.

“You guys get home safe okay?” Steve says, voice uncharacteristically serious as Robin helps him up from the pool chair he'd collapsed in. “Check in when you do.”

That’s weird--Eddie half expects it to be some sort of inside joke or macho, alpha man type comment but instead both Robin and Nancy nod seriously.

“We will.” Nancy promises. “Thank you for inviting me, Steve. Nice meeting you properly, Eddie.”

She gifts him with a smile, an honest one, before guiding Robin out the door.

Who screams; “Bye losers, love you!” as she exits.

(Eddie thinks this might be another moment for Batective Eddie except he’s sort of getting a headache and kinda just wants to sleep rathe than envision his Sherlock Holmes styled bat-self.)

They follow the ladies in, Eddie beelining for the first cough he sees.

“You can sleep it off here.” Steve tells him, zombie-walking to his fridge. He pulls out a soda and chugs it as Eddie falls face first into couch cushions, taking a moment to let his stomach settle before adjusting to a better position.

"Nah I'm just gonna close my eyes for a second." Eddie mumbles. “Be fine in a ‘lil bit, promise.”

Does so, and enjoys the sweet, sweet darkness that envelops him.

He jerks awake a moment later, blinking hard in the dark. A blanket has been draped over him, and his shoes kicked off, though judging from where they landed Eddie thinks he’s done that part himself.

A glance at his wristwatch reveals it's 1 AM, and Eddie goes to scrub his eyes with his hands.

Shit, he hadn't intended to stay this long.

Harrington’s creepy Christmas shit’s all gone, replaced by walls so blank they look almost sterile.

It creates a different, quieter vibe that's almost more spooky than the Santa-themed tomb Eddie had previous seen. The large windows throw shadows across the open space, like elongated fingers. It covers parts of the room in thick darkness, giving the appearance than anything could be hiding within them.

There's blankets on the couch catty-corner to Eddie’s. They're rucked up, and the sound of running water abruptly clues Eddie in to where Steve might be.

A golden glow erupts from the kitchen, then off again, before repeating the pattern.

( Batective Eddie returns with a squeak, frantically waving a sign.

It reads ‘Steve is afraid of flickering lights, remember!?’)

The noise in the kitchen has gone eerily quiet. The bad kind, that makes the hairs on his neck stand up, and Eddie rolls off the couch and to his feet, making his way to the kitchen.

Comes around the corner to see Steve frozen halfway to the stove, his head craned upward at the ceiling lights.

Eddie knew that whatever had happened, a clear trigger for all those involved (the kids, Harrington, hell even Nancy Wheeler that one time in the library--) was electrical issues in lights.

He clears his throat, the sound coming out like more of a growl. He coughs to clear it, then sidles closer.

Steve has a stillness to his body that Eddie doesn’t clock until it’s too late, his hand already reaching out to tap the taller man’s shoulder.

"Hey, uh Steve?"

Gets the shock of his life when Steve yanks his shoulder away, spinning back and around like he's been burned.

Eddie gets a flash of wide brown eyes, glassy and wild, before a frying pan is swung at his head.

"What the hell Harrington!" Eddie yelps, falling down on his ass and scrambling backwards, pan missing his head by inches.

(Envisions in his head his Batective self throwing his notes in the air, taking flight with a startled “Fleeeee!”)

Harrington stands over him. Looks just like Wayne did that one time a car battery caught fire and exploded near the trailer.

Like he was somewhere else, and prepared to do what he had to in order to get back.

Chest heaving, Eddie put aside all thoughts of stupid bats and did what he did best.

Talked.

xXx

20 days after New Years, Steve almost takes Eddie's head off with a frying pan.

Doesn't realize he's swung it like a weapon until he hears the surprised shout, his brain too steeped in adrenaline and old fears.

Freezes, because the shout sounds like one of the kids but he doesn’t remember them being here...

"--eve?"

"What?" He asks, the ringing slowly easing as his tunnel vision does.

He'd heard the growl, saw the lights flicker…

A gentle hand presses into his bicep, and he finds himself staring into Eddie Munson’s eyes.

The guy has a sort of look on his face that says he's trying his best not to freak out, but then Steve blinks and it's gone.

Replaced with something gentle, if cautious.

"You wouldn't mind if I just," Eddie trails off as his ringed fingers slowly stroke down Steve's arm, before carefully taking hold of the pan’s handle. "--took this, aye love?"

It's the nickname that brings Steve back fully, and he loosens his grip on the pan, surrendering it to Munson.

"Thank you Steve." He says, leaning to put the pan back on the stove, far out of Steve's current reach.

Then his hands return to Steve's wrists, and he finds himself staring at them in confusion.

Not because he doesn't know what happened--he does.

It's more that he's shocked Eddie is still willing to touch him after he nearly brained him.

"There's egg on the floor." Steve says, because it's the easiest thought to have at the moment.

Easier than apologizing.

Definitely easier than explaining.

"We'll clean the egg up later." Eddie says firmly, and Steve's never heard him use that tone of voice before. Firm and unyielding, like he has all the answers.

It's the kind of voice Steve can surrender his anxiety to and he finds himself almost sinking into it.

If Munson asked him to walk over a cliff just then, he would be more than a little tempted.

"Let's go sit down, just for a few minutes." Eddie tells him, a gentle tug on his wrists and Steve finds himself breathing out, his body shivering with the release of stress.

He nods, unable to speak, and allows himself to be maneuvered out into his living room, then down on one of the loveseats.

Eddie sits next to him, his thigh a line of grounding heat pressed against Steve's leg and he focuses on it to keep himself in the present.

"You back with me?"

Steve works his throat, hyper aware of how dry it is. "Yeah." He says.

Then adds, "sorry."

"Don't apologize, man. I've done plenty of trip sitting in my day. I know a panic attack when I see one."

Steve vaguely wants to ask what the hell trip sitting is, but finds himself unconsciously leaning towards Eddie instead.

Somehow he doesn't mind, even though Steve's practically squished up against him. Not that Eddie's ever been one to care about personal space, but Steve knows there's a difference between a teasing joke and whatever this is.

Eddie's thumb begins to rub gentle, grounding circles into the meat of Steve's wrist.

It gives his eyes something to track and gratefully Steve does, so he doesn't have to look Eddie in the face.

Isn't sure he can clear the tears trying to wet his eyes in time to brush this off.

Claim it's nothing serious.

"You wanna talk about it?" Eddie asks and somehow Steve didn't account for how direct the metalhead could be.

The tears strengthen and for a moment his vision blurs with them, before he sucks in a shuddering breath and forces himself back under control.

'God Steven, toughen up.' His father's voice rings out in his head, the memory branded into Steve's very being. 'It's ridiculous how much you cry. Do you think anyone wants to put up with that?'

Steve had answered no then, tone wobbling.

"I--" He starts, "--signed an NDA."

Which is not, at all, what he meant to say, but too late now.

"The cops and I aren't exactly on speaking terms, your secrets are safe with me." Eddie says, entirely unphased.

Which ghosts a smile over Steve’s face at least, even as he finds himself totally lost.

How exactly is he supposed to explain this?

The Upside Down, the Russians, hell even the way he's become hyper vigilant?

That certain words or references act like bullets, sending him to the floor in a spiral of burning panic?

Nevermind his finely honed instinct to use anything as a weapon when startled.

Sensing his discomfort, Eddie hums quietly before making a suggestion. "How about you tell me a totally fake, very unreal story?"

Steve croaks a laugh.

"I'm a really bad story teller." He warns.

"Practice makes perfect." Eddie tells him, leaning his shoulder into the taller man's.

Grateful--and feeling more than a little pathetic--Steve finds himself seeking out the touch.

"Okay." He agrees quietly, with a jerky nod of his head. "A--completely untrue, over exaggerated story. I can do that."

So he does.

xXx

The story Steve tells in halting, fumbling bursts of words involves monsters, the supernatural, government secrets and coverups.

The latter half of which doesn't even surprise Eddie--anyone with half a brain could see the sheer number of incidents that happened one after another was a cover up for something big-- but he can't help himself from trying to detangle reality from fiction.

Monsters he gets. It's easier to pretend the bad guy is an evil creature than a real person, to distance yourself from it in such a way it feels fake.

The supernaturally gifted girl is a little harder, but if you replace superpowers with some poor kid involved in some kind of shitty, abusive government program, then he can buy it.

What Steve never explains, is what set him off.

Eddie tells him so.

"I told you I was a bad storyteller." Steve says in response, which isn’t an explanation but then, Eddie realizes he is pushing awful hard for a guy who he barely knows to bare his soul--and who, in turn, barely knows him.

Not really anyway.

Not outside of rumors and old wounds.

"Is there anything that ever helps you feel safer?"

"People." Steve says immediately. "People always help but ah, well." His smile is pained, self deprecating. "I can't exactly ask for sleepovers every night, can I?”

He shrugs. “So I just keep a few things close.'

"A few things?"

"My nailbat."

"Is the nailbat a bat…with nails in it?" Eddie hedges, desperately attempting to keep a calm, straight face because what the fuck?

But this was a no judging zone, and it wasn’t as if a bat with nails in it was the weirdest thing Eddie had ever encountered. Not since Uncle Wayne’s friends informed him they had at minimum, seventeen guns hidden in their own trailer across town.

‘Things are happening at night, kid. Bad things. Don’t go too far into the woods looking for trouble.’

"Maybe." Steve admits.

"How about instead of hugging a nail bat to sleep, if things get bad you come over. Wayne works the night shift and I have insomnia anyways."

"Really?"

Eddie can’t blame him for sounding surprised.

"Yeah man. No skin off my nose, though you will be stuck hearing my beautiful sweetheart. She's a guitar sent from heaven. "

"I can handle that." He says, a smile ghosting across his face.

Then; "Thanks Eddie."

Eddie presses his shoulder against Steve’s. "Anytime, big boy."

(Crisis over, Batective Eddie returns, swooning.

Eddie mentally squashes him under his own notes.)

#I wasnt gonna write more of this but ya'llk talked me into it #Eddie doodles batective eddie everywhere #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve needs a hug #steddie fluff #0o0 fanfics #I guess this would be the new years special #god does that mean I should finish it with valentines day #nancy and eddie friendship supremacy

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loststarphounix · 2 years ago

Text

Soudam/FuyuSoudam Fic: Walls Could Talk

Title: Walls Could Talk

Fandom: Dangaronpa

Pairing: Souda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham, Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko/Souda Kazuichi

Summary: Fuyuhiko can hear them. Despite the fucking sound proof walls, he can hear them. It’s almost every night and he doesn’t know if he can take it anymore. Inspired by Walls Could Talk by Halsey

Tags: explicit, voyeurism, trans!Kazuichi

Read on A03

“Ah!”

Fuyuhiko’s ears twitched. It was barely audible, but he definitely heard the quiet moan that drifted into his bedroom. He felt his already present flush deepening as his body responded hearing Kazuichi, one of best friends, moaning as he’s about to get fucked. It took every ounce of his strength just to quietly sidle up to his headboard, making damn sure the bed didn’t creak.

“A-aaah…fuck~”

They were starting a little later than usual, it was well past the night curfew. That meant only one thing: it was gonna be the night. The night they were actually gonna fuck.

Fuyuhiko’s breath came out in a stuttering hiss at the realization - his heart pounding loudly in his chest. His cock strained against the waistband of his boxers as he trailed a teasing hand down his chest - fingers lightly brushing his already quivering stomach to wrap them around his length and squeeze.

His blue-green eyes shutter as another moan filters through the wall by his head.

Fuck, what did I do to get like this? He chastises, smothering a groan as he moves his hand up the length of cock; thumb smearing the pre cum as lubricant.

How it happened was majorly due to an oversight. When one thinks about it, it’s actually pathetically funny.

Hope’s Peak Academy prided itself on being state of the art - the best of the very best. It prided itself on being able to provide and sustain every known talent known to man; from something seemingly mundane to the extraordinary. If it was a talent to be explored and utilized to the best of its abilities, then Hope’s Peak had it.

Several buildings dedicated to sciences and arts; to the physical, mental and theoreticals of all life itself. All were housed behind its impenetrable gates. And it was possible thanks to the ample and very generous donations and stipends the school somehow always manages to score every fiscal year and it showed in every nook and cranny of the couple several hundred dozen acres of land.

It was a juggernaut. A titan.

The only thing of its kind.

And knowing that, it was inevitable that something as big and as money guzzling as Hope’s Peak Academy, would have tiny - barely a threat to the structure - dents. Tiny facial imperfections, if one was feeling generous to call them. Slivers of cracks. Barely blips on the most nitpicky radar.

And the most glaring and - to him - the most unforgivable of them all, was located in Fuyuhiko’s dorm room.

Many private schools and bigwig one percent colleges fucking wish they had a fifth of what they do in way of student housing: comfortable living spaces that gave allowance to ones talents; the softest bedding and pillows currently in production; high quality furniture worth more than a government official’s yearly income and the latest in technology all in one space. All nice perks for a very elite school - state of the art with frequent upgrades and accommodations.

But their bread and butter, their highest selling factor, was privacy. Each and every student dorm was insulated with a patent, highly sought after soundproof padding that lined the walls in between each dorm. Created by one of the very first students that attended Hope’s Peak and was later improved upon by them and another student of that time, it was so good at its job that unless someone had their bedroom windows open, they were encased in total silence.

It was a necessity when one surrounded themselves with individuals who had odd hours or would work well into the night and stop at the crack of dawn for projects and personal pleasure. This was an incentive that put many students at ease that their own work and peace wouldn’t be disrupted by their neighbors. Lord knows Fuyuhiko wouldn’t hesitate to kill a fucker if his sleep was being constantly interrupted.

Or at least, that’s how he felt about almost two months ago before the incident happened.

The night had started out normally enough: Fuyuhiko was in his room getting ready for bed. Since the start of his first year, Fuyuhiko had had his bed moved away from its previous position of being right under the glass bay windows, to be on the other side of the room comfortably by a corner.

His friends questioned him on it, but stopped when he snapped back defensively about the changeup. Being the sole heir of the largest yakuza clan made one a tiny bit paranoid, so fucking what? Glass shards and silk sheets do not mix well.

And since he had to move the bed, the blond had to move other things around to accommodate - tv, desk etcetera. That's where his new friends came in -they were pretty handy when they weren’t being nosy sons of bitches. But the bed was his task after Kazuichi and Hajime moved the desk, tables and chairs out of the way; mainly due to his blatant distrust of people being near and possibly tampering with the bed he slept with.

He knows the other three wouldn’t do that to him, but habits dying hard and all that shit. And him situating his bed, is how he first came across the weak wall. The wall looked the same as the others, so he wasn’t clued in to any obvious signs or tells. He simply set up his bed and tidied up his room after kicking his friends out.

Fast Forward a few months later, and his Hope Peak career officially started, his friends became his best friends somehow. It was after 8, maybe 9 when his workload for the week was finally finished.

Pushing away from the oak table, the blond raised his arms above his head and stretched. A weary yawn escaped him as he began to shuffle the papers into a manilla folder before placing it into the upper right drawer. He pushed away from the desk with a groan, deciding that he finally earned a break.

One hot shower later, Fuyuhiko felt refreshed as he flopped onto the immaculate bed, his towel pooling underneath him. He shivered slightly at the slight difference in temperature, laying there as he entertained the thought of searching for Peko, but with it so late, he didn’t think she would still be up. He was considering saying fuck it and getting dressed anyway, when he heard the faint sounds of a door slamming and stomping noises and frowned.

What the fuck? He thought, turning to his side to face the wall.

Voices filtered through the room, their tone and volume slightly off but still discernible.

“- knew I liked Miss Sonia and you still-!”

“Foolish fiend-”

Oh fucking great, Rolling his eyes, he turned away.

Any good mood he had was chased away in irritation by hearing Kazuichi and Gundham fucking Tanaka bickering like old maids. Fucking Christ!

Why the hell was Tanaka even in Kaz’s room? The mechanic probably pulled some kind of stupid stunt to get Sonia’s attention again and the other forced his way in. And Kaz, the pushover that he is, just let him do it too, most likely. Dumbass.

“Cease your infernal yapping, dog!”

“Make me, Hamster Boy!”

Fuyuhiko glared hatefully at the corner wall, sneering when the voices grew even louder in volume.

Why the hell can I even hear these bastards? I thought these rooms were soundproof or some shit!

Huffing, he moved to bang the wall to get them to shut up, when he heard something heavy slam against it in a heavy thud and froze. What sounded like wrestling and muffled cursing has him staring wide-eyed in disbelief.

Holy shit were they actually fighting?

Now he wondered what the hell Kazuichi did now - cause Gundham was too much of a damn softy to resort to violence as his first response. Maybe the mechanic finally made him snap.

Just as fast as it started, it ended and all he heard in the resounding silence was muffled heavy breathing. It lasted so long that he jumped when heard the breeder’s voice, dark and booming.

“You are the most insufferable mortal!”

“Back at you, dickhead!” Kazuichi yelled back.

And then, there was sounds of a different kind coming from that room - wet, soft smacking noises and sighs and -

Oh.

Oh HELL no!

Fuyuhiko could only stare at the wall, face twisted. Those fuckers were not making out after trying to throttle each others. Fucking idiots.

At first, all he could do was lay there as they continued to kiss, completely oblivious to the imaginary audience behind their wall. He tried to cover to ears to block out the noise, but somehow the sounds of their making out became louder, until he couldn’t take it anymore and flopped back on the bed in simmering anger. As the young yakuza tried to figure out what the fuck he should even do in this situation, when a low moan shattered his thoughts.

“Fuck!” There was a sound of scrambling and Fuyuhiko felt more than heard Kazuichi press his weight against the headboard against the wall. “Oh fuck we shouldn’t be doing this! Right?! I mean - you’re dating Sonia-”

Oh so now she’s Sonia, that’s fucking rich. Fuyuhiko scoffed and gave the wall an incredulous look as the breeder interjected.

“I have already reiterated that the She-Cat and I are not romantically involved. My cursed heart was already stolen by a childish, impulsive mortal who may speak of desisting in this ritual, but even now still has his hand on my crotch.”

Fuyuhiko had to smother a snort as he nodded his agreement as Kazuichi tried to stammer out a reply. Like he said: those fucking idiots.

“I- well - fuck how are this big.”

There was a quiet groan and he imagined the mechanic had just jerked the other off through his pleather pants. He could just see it now: that pink haired idiot just sitting there, mouth gaped open like a caught trout as he runs his thumb up and down the length of the trapped cock with his eyes wide and the dark with desire as he rubs the growing wet spot -

Fuyuhiko didn’t realize that he was actually rubbing his thumb against the head of dick until he looked down at the thin line of pre that connected them. He stared at his hand, horrified.

When did he get hard?

What the fuck -

“- choke me.” Came a breathless whimper.

He jumped, surprised at the last bit of words. Since when did he zone out?

“I must admit that while that sounds lovely…your fangs deter me from doing so.”

Seriously Kaz? You were gonna give the man a blowjob with your rows of fucking shark teeth?

“I wouldn’t bite you! I can prove it too - theres not a single indent on my dildos.”

There was a moment of stunned silence and like -

Now the thought of his pink haired friend going to town giving a dildo a blowie filtered through his mind's eye - drool dribbling out the corners of his mouth as he worked up and down the plastic toy before curling his stupidly long tongue around the width. His cock swelled at the thought and bounced against his lower stomach, now full mast and aching.

What the fuck is happening?!

There’s some things that you should never learn about a friend. Even if his body was acting like a traitor, the bastard. Fuyuhiko was almost too busy glaring at his half hard cock that he missed the breeder’s breathless and…nervous? The hell? - chuckle.

“Another time perhaps. For now, I want your complete and utter attention.”

Kazuichi sounded breathless as well, so it was hard to tell if he was chuckling or groaning. But Fuyuhiko figured he was doing both. “Sounds good to me.”

And then the sounds of kissing resume, this time louder and with whimpers and groans interlacing. The yakuza sat on his bed, momentarily stuck in limbo as he listened to their growing urgency and his mind tried to decide whether to bang his hand on the wall or just try to find some headphones, when the kissing stop and Kazuichi sounded…worried? Scared?

The fuck did that goth freak do? They were seemingly good a moment ago! It made his pale chest redden in anger.

Before he could get himself worked up to grab a pit of shorts to run over and beat some pale skinny ass, he hears Kazuichi’s small, fragil voice.

“Just…don’t freak out, ok?”

If Gundham replied, it was too low to hear or it was no verbal, but the yakuza spent the last few seconds in agony as the occupants in the other room became silent. It feels like an eternity before Gundham’s deep voice vibrates through his he air.

“I see. The realm has denied you your true vessel.”

Fuyuhiko blinked.

The fuck does that mean? He thought incredulous at the taller teens weird speech pattern.

At least he wasn’t the only one - Kazuichi sounded as exasperated as the yakuza felt.

“That - you know what, let’s go with that. Yeah I…I was born in the wrong ‘vessel’.”

Oh.

When it clicked in his brain, he felt stupid that it never occurred to him why Kaz got so upset as he did. It wasn’t like Fuyuhiko didn’t know Kaz was trans - him and Hajime had a weird “dual coming out” moment one day where one needed help getting injected with testosterone that at the time Fuyuhiko thought was drugs when he accident entered the room just as Hajime plunged the syringe in the mechanics thigh.

A completely awkward clusterfuck, but he accepted them - honestly he always forgets that aspect of one of his best friends. It didn’t matter that he used to be a girl.

Stupid, clumsy Kazuichi was simply stupid, clumsy Kazuichi.

But, he conceaded to himself with a slight grumble, that wasn’t true for most. And Gundham ever gave him shit about it Fuyuhiko would deal with him.

“-I just didn’t want you to think that I wasn’t interested.”

Fuck. He had zoned out and missed the rest of the conversation. Gundham replied, and the smug, loaded way his voice whispered out into the air made Fuyuhiko’s arms break out in goosebumps.

“Believe me my dear, your interest is obscenely obvious.”

Was it weird listening to one of your friends continue to make half ass excuses as the sounds of fabric rustling gives way to the wetter noise of flesh?

Abso-fucking-lutely.

But to actually imagine it all - the lips forming both soft and loud sounds and dark pink eyes and sweat slick skin -

No one will ever know that shit.

There was a different kind of wet squishing sound and -

Oh fuck he was listening to his best friend getting fingered. And his damn cock refused to go soft - instead twitching almost in time to the sound of breathy sighs and high pitch whines. He didn’t know when his hand encircled his erection - it just seemed to suddenly materialize there and give the tiniest bit of friction that left him aching.

Then he heard something that made his entire pale body flush as bright and vibrant as the mechanic’s bubblegum pink hair.

“It’s just - I don’t wanna crush you-“

A long, breathy noise sighed loudly into the air and Fuyuhiko could just imagine that Gundham did something - switch their positions if the faint sounds of the bed creaking was anything to go by - before he spoke.

“To expire due to your heavenly thighs, is as close to Nirvana as one can hope to achieve. In simpler terms: let me die, Kazuichi.”

And then the pink haired teen got louder and fuck -

Fuyuhiko didn’t know what was going on. His hand was speeding up, trying to match the speed of Kazuichi’s raising voice until his vision whited out; eyes rolling to the back of his head as he came all over his stomach.

It took a long moment for him to regain his senses, but when he did, the yakuza panicked. What if they had heard him? Fuck he would be called out as a bigger pervert than goddamn Teruteru.

But sounds came crashing down on him like a tidal wave and he realized that he was - thankfully - still undetected as the mechanic babbled his way to his orgasm.

It was quiet for a few moments and he foolishly thought that meant that it was finally over and he could pretend he didn’t hear a single fucking thing.

But then there was the sound of slurping and gagging and his dick gave a halfhearted twitch in response.

“Look how perfect you are - so determined. You can barely take me in your mouth and yet you still try.”

Oh fuck was he really -

A low grunt filtered into the room and he imagined Gundham settling a hang on Kazuichi’s head as the other sucked his dick.

“I thought they wouldn’t do that tonight.” He muttered absentmindedly, seemingly mystified by the pictures conjured in his mind.

“What a wicked talent you have with that mouth. Our compatriots would ponder on such skills. Perhaps, if you displease me, I’ll let them discover your power.”

It didn’t surprise him that Gundham was a talker during sex as well as in anything else - but shit. Now his cock really tried to stand in attention and the blond stubbornly refused to touch himself. Once was fucking enough before his pride shattered to pieces.

There was a muffled moan - maybe a cry? - before a louder groan overlapped it and his heart hammered hard in his chest.

“Oh but you would love that, wouldn’t you? A bitch in heat has more modesty. Unfortunately for you dog - I am not a willful sharer of my property.”

And that?

Yeah that was it for Fuyuhiko.

The imagine of the breeder looking down at Kazuichi with dark, possessive eyes; hand forcing him down on his cock as he chased his climax was too much to bear and he let out a painful whimper as he hear md him cum

And in the resounding silence, he continued to sit in the middle of his bed, listening to their harsh breathing peter out to soft snores until he fell backwards with a numbing breath and the starts of a headache forming.

He took him a long time to get up after that to head to his en-suite bathroom to clean up his shame before crawling into his bed. He slept facing the window, willing his body to stop the minuet shocks of pleasures that seemed to refuse to dissipate even what felt like hours after.

“What the fuck!?” He hissed.

So that’s how it started.

A month later and he still hasn’t filed a complaint to get the wall fixed. So he suffered an entire month of hearing one of his best friends get fucked nearly every night.

An entire month of sleepless nights and embarrassing dream; an entire month of refusing eye contact with Kazuichi because his mind traitorously circled back on him and Gundham fucking each other’s brains out a few times a week.

Fuck when he knew when he started to have inklings of romantic feelings for Kazuichi - or Gundham? It was complicated as fuckall. But the feelings came and they added a new level of shame into the already boiling pot.

A whole month of talking and hanging out with Kazuichi and soon Gundham and Sonia joining them as the two boys begin their relationship in earnest and watching and soon pinning for something like that - all while knowing how his best friend sounds like when he’s getting finger fucked or eaten out nearly half to death or knowing that the breeder had a massive Service Top kink and was also a fucking talker in bed.

It was insane and what he did during their little alone time in his bed - hours after spending time with them and in their company - was between him, himself and what whatever ran the fucking universe. His dignity and heart can only take so much.

The moans started off low, but grew louder and more frequent. Fuyuhiko lazily stroke himself as he remembered the first day - of how Kazuichi sounded so breathless and fucking needy and that was only because he was getting fingered.

As the month progressed, the two have been getting closer and closer to the ‘main event’. And each time Kazuichi sounded just like that first time, while Gundham seemed to be getting a bit more vocal as they progressed in their sex life.

It was interesting and somehow stupidly endearing, but the blond knew something was different when he heard the familiar telltale whine from the mechanic.

Harsh panting fills the air suddenly and the whining that used to annoy him now makes his dick twitch. “Come on, Gun! I’ve been a good boy -ugh! Jus- just please-””

“Patience, Cara Mia.” The wet sounds of messy kissing can be heard and the yakuza’s breath stuttered as Gundham continued in a deep, authoritative tone. “You are not the only one eager for this, but you must be prepared for me. I will not be the source of any discomfort or pain to you.”

There was a low, wet noise in the background. Fuyuhiko could imagine the taller teens' spindly long fingers spreading the others cunt wide with each thrust - maybe a thumb gently pressing circles against Kazuichi’s clit, adding just the right amount of pleasure -

Normally, Fuyuiko wouldn’t have been able to really hear all this, if he hadn’t all but pressed his ear against the wall. So he had a front row seat to all the audible whimpers and gasps as well as getting full snatches of conversations the two would have. As fucked as it sounded, it was damn near music to his ears.

The squishing sounds of the breeder finger fucking the mechanic’s pussy was a near nightly event. Gundham always made Kazuichi come first - something that the blond didn’t mind because he found himself enjoying hearing Kazuichi lose his shit and cum so hard he heard the latter complain of his sheets being soaked.

The sounds quicked for a moment and a low groan answered drowned out whatever the breeder was asking his boyfriend. Gundham tsked, but Fuyuhiko could hear the smug satisfaction behind it. He squeezed his dick, trying to stave off the building pleasure that simply sound surged through him.

“My, but you have become a glutton.” Now the squishing wasn’t so quiet and joined in the sympathy of whimpers and gasps. “Maybe Your Overlord has been too lenient in his mercy. You’re beginning to be disobedient -”

“I’m not!” Was mewled and Fuyuhiko began to stroke himself faster as the other begged. “I can be good. I can be so good!”

Holy fuck, but Kazuichi begging like this is fucking hot. Maybe it was because how breathless and wrecked he could sound just from the slightlest touch, but that shit was like catnip to Fuyuhiko. He forced himself to slow the pace of his strokes and to forcibly still his hips from their minute thrusts into his fist.

They were just getting started and already he was about to blow his wad.

Jesus Fucking Christ Fuyuhiko, get your shit together. He abashes. It does enough to reign in his eagerness and just in time too.

“Well…I suppose your Master can let your insolence go just this once. But only if you can prove your repentance.”

Then there was the sound of shuffling and ragged breathing before a tearing sound broke the quiet before it happened.

He doesn’t know how he knows, but he felt the moment when Gundham entered Kazuichi- how the air seemed to shift and grow exponentially warmer and the sweat broke out his skin. From the other side of the wall, the ragged breathing gets louder and there’s a subtle squeak from the mattress.

Then the moment is broken with a loud cry.

“Fuck! Gundham please-”

“What is it, Puppy?”

How the fuck could the goth be so damn composed right now?! Fuyuhiko felt he was losing his mind and he wasn’t the one buried deep in the mechanic. Even if his voice was steady, the strain he tried to conceal was blatantly obvious to the yakuza.

The was more creaking, and he could imagine Kazuichi squirming from the new pressure within his body.

“You’re too big - tearing me apart-” The plaintive mew cut off with a scream and the wall thudded with the bed frame making contact with it.

“Silence.” Gundham commanded, not harsh but firm. “Unless you want to be punished, you will be a good boy, and take all of me.”

Another whimper echoed through the wall, but Kazuichi kept all protest silent as he panted through the other entering him. Fuyuhiko wondered what he looked like - debauched most likely. Looking throughly fucked and they haven’t even gotten to the actual fucking. He must have made a pretty sight and he slowly stroked himself to the image behind his eyes as the goth praised his boyfriend.

“Hush now, Kazuichi. Hush. That’s it.” Ragged breathing prevails in the sudden silence, only broken with a few small kissing noises, before he hears the other question in a low hush, “Now, answer me honestly: what is your color?”

“Y-yellow.” The “Yellow, yellow yellow yellow -! Sir, please-“

There was a pleased rumbled - almost like a fucking purr and it would be hilarious if it wasn’t also kinda hot - before Gundham spoke, pleasure dripping from him like fucking honey.

“Good. So good. My Concubine has done so well. Your honesty pleases me greatly. Take all the time you need.”

And from there, it really started to go. The small, minute squeaking of the bed, grew louder with each minute passing from the initial stages of finding a pace and rhythm they both enjoyed.

The whimpering grew into breathy moans and half cut off curses as the breeder fucked into Kazuichi like he was a man on a fucking mission. Fuyuhiko tried to pace himself to the headboard hitting the shared wall, but gave up and soon went in his pace - one hand fondling his balls and nipples as the other moved in fast strokes.

And through it all, Gundham praised Kazuichi and talked to him so sweetly that it made the blond’s heart flutter in yearning even as his dick leaked more cum from his near purple head.

“There we are. Look how good you’re being - serving your Master so well.”

Fuck he sounded like a man drowning. Fuyuhiko’s eyes fluttered closed, imagining those dual color eyes pinning him down with a hooded glare and a wicked grin on his lips.

“Such perfection. What a perfect Princess.”

Kazuichi released a loud, ear piercing moan and it made everything stop. The breath stuttered out of Fuyuhiko, his cock painfully hard as the moan reverberated through his skull, eyes wide.

Holy shit.

It seemed to have an affect on the breeder as well, because he talked, his voice cracked with nearly repressed emotion.

“Did you like that, my dear? Do you like being called Princess?”

There was an attempt at a protest, but they fall silent as the other begins to thrust into him - this time so hard that the headboard actually makes Fuyuhiko’s own vibrate with the intensity. Kazuichi still valiantly tries to deny the accusation, but that’s kinda hard to do when you’re getting fucked so hard the wall is rattling. Fuyuhiko doesn’t hesitant to continue getting himself off.

“S-stop calling me that! Seriously! No fair!” He pants, words breaking with each sobbing inhale.

“Ah, but you tightened around me so deliciously. There is no shame in admitting your true form.”

“N-no-o!” The low mew that sang out made Fuyuhiko’s eyes widen as he imagined the taller sharply thrust into the whimpering mechanic below him. He hand sped up to match the quickened panting.

Gundham sounds like he’s barely holding on, voice harsh and panting as he demands, “Who’s my Princess?”

“I - ah!”

Fuck he sounds so fucking gutted. Kazuichi sounded like he was one step away from babbling incoherently and Fuyuhiko speeds up and begins to thrust into his hand.

“What was that? I’m afraid I could not hear you. Who’s my little, slutty Princess?”

“Me! I’m your slutty princess! Oh fuck, harder!”

The headboard bangs like its trying to slam into his room and connect the dorms. He feels himself getting and he reaches the hand fondling his balls up to pinch at a nipple. And then he hears it - Kazuichi’s telltale pitch shift as it heightens to near ear piercing levels before he starts cumming. He’s cumming for awhile, almost to a near comical length before his voice cracks and crackles into whining gusts of noise that escape his chest.

But the headboard is still banging, which means Gundham hasn’t cum yet. Fuyuhiko marvels at that - how the other somehow held on through the convulsing of the mechanic’s needy hole around his dick. But from the low, near animal grunts that filter through, he probably won’t last long.

Kazuichi probably knows that too, because his cracking voice whispers obscenely,

“Cum inside me! Please babe! Wanna be stuffed. Wanna feel you dripping out-“

And that’s what pushes Fuyuhiko over the edge. The image of Kazuichi as a panting, disheveled mess; begging pleading to be so full of his cum that it leaks out his used pussy, their combined seed just dribbling out and soaking the cotton sheets - is just too fucking much and he has to bite into his hand to try to stifle his loud groans as he spills all over his hand and even his forearm.

He collapses on his bed as a cut off sound, followed by a low, guttural moan that vibrates the entire wall and Fuyuhiko dimly registers Gundham most likely finishing inside the mechanic.

Harsh panting leaves the blond as he tries to control his breathing. The shared afterglow is the best part in his opinion - the quiet after the shared experience feels comforting almost; even if he’s the only one away from it.

Soon, the quiet spell is broken but a breathy chuckle from the other side. The bed creaks again, and he can imagine that the two are cuddling and being all cute and shit.

“Oh man! I can’t feel my hips, dude.”

“A-apologies, my Paramour. I fear I may have been too far gone to notice your discomfort.”

“Discomfort? Nah, dude that was fucking hot! I’m gonna feel you all day tomorrow. Thank fuck it’s Sunday I can just stay in bed all day.”

“Hmmm. We can enjoy a lazy day of rest. I have not done so in quite some time.”

“You wanna stay the night? I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m gonna take a shower. You wanna join me?”

“In a moment. I must regain my composure before we are in such close proximity again.”

“Like shower sex is a bad thing.”

“With your clumsiness, that would only end in disaster.”

“Fine. Just don’t take too long, the water’ll get cold.”

And then the sounds of Kazuichi’s retreating feet, sluggishly brings Fuyuhiko back from his pleasure-fueled daze. He lays there, considering if he should just forgo his usual dry clean up and shower himself, when he freezes at the sound of his name.

“Are you still there, Kuzuryuu?”

Cold sweat brings goosebumps up Fuyuhiko’s neck. He stares at the wall, mouth opened in muted horror at the painfully dull beige coloring.

No fucking way -

“I know you can hear me. I had thought I was going mad until I heard your pitiful attempts to smother your moans. Did you have your fill?”

Shame and guilt war with the shock and anger that curdle in his stomach, chasing away the pleasant feeling he basked in mere moments before. He scrambles away from the wall, feeling as though a hole would appear and swallow him whole.

“I - I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

He would spin this. Maybe this was the first time that he was actually heard. If so, he could play dumb and act like none of this fucking happened and it could be a kept secret between him and his best friend’s boyfriend. And it wasn’t like Gundham would use it against him- he’s not that kind of person -

But all that hope was dashed away, when the other continued.

“Come now. This corner of the walls has a weakness in the foundation-since you can hear us it’s only natural that the same for us is true.”

Well….fuck.

If Gundham knew this long, why the fuck didn’t he say anything?! Was this all for his amusement and at Fuyuhiko’s expense? Laugh it up with Kazuichi or some shit?

Oh fuck! Did he tell Kazuichi?!

“Do not fret - I can smell the fear radiating off you. Kazuichi is not aware that you have heard us.”

“And how long have you known?” There was no point denying it now - not when it was so obvious the other had him backed in a corner.

“Only a short time.”

Fuyuhiko banged his head against the headboard, all pretense of pretending not to eavesdrop, vanishing with his sagging shoulders. He hits his head against it for good measure. Of course it would go both ways. Why didn’t he ever think it would? Is stupid contagious or something?

His silent lamenting was interrupted by Gundham, who quietly cleared his throat in a bid to recapture the others' attention.

“I must admit,” The breeder began, “that at first I was very vexed at the idea of unworthy mortals bearing witness to such a private ritual between my Paramore and I. However, the knowledge that you could hear us and my claim on Kazuichi grew on me until I began to….anticipate our nightly passions whenever we retired to his private domicile.”

Fuyuhiko tilted his head back just enough to stare incredulously at the white colored wall.

The fuck does that mean?

“If you are amiable, I would not mind ensuring you are more…involved in my and my Hearts private sessions.“ Gundham offered, his tone taking on a more light, expecting tone.

The yakuza’s eyes widened as he wheeled back, landing his bear ass in some of his cooling cum. He stared hard at the wall, thinking he must have misheard or something - cause there ain't no way this bastard just - wait, invited him into their sex life?

This can’t be happening.This can’t be fucking happening!

Fuyuhiko didn’t realize he was muttering this out loud until Gundham silenced with a quick, hard knock against the shared wall.

“Do not misunderstand me, fool! I am bound to Kazuichi in both body and soul. I have never felt the need to stray from his side. However…we have discussed perhaps having a third involved with our rituals every now and again.”

“And what- he’d be ok with me - his other best friend - hooking up with him and his boyfriend?!” Fuyuhiko hissed.

This couldn’t be real life. Gundham was such a possessive idiot when it came to Kazuichi. There is simply no way he’s offering this to the blond now, even if hes traitorous dick twitches in interest at the prospect.

Seemingly unmoved by the others plight, the taller teen continued, voice even and calm in his certainty, “My Hell Rose is most agreeable to exploring his body and experiences of carnal pleasure. Plus, you have the ability to make him feel safe when I am unable to. Additionally, he has willingly admitted to a small crush he had developed for you prior to our courtship. He would not be put off if you decided to join us.”

“This is is crazy. You’re crazy.”

All he got was a hum in response, before he heard the rustling of sheets being moved as the other made to get out of bed.

“Think on it,” Gundham offered - commanded really, the fucker, “there’s no rush. Take as much time as you need to come around and seek me out with your answer. But I believe you will make the right choice.”

There a pause, before he continued, voice husky and deep and all satisfied and - fuck! His dick really needs to take the fucking back seat.

“Personally, I would love to see him choking on your dick. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must bathe.”

And with that finally ‘what the fuck’ statement, Gundham’s footsteps faintly retreated towards the others bathroom. It was quiet for a few long moments. Fuyuhiko cleaned himself up with a washcloth he brought out of his bathroom earlier in preparation for a night that did not go the way he had planned.

Gundham’s proposal circled around his lazily like a moth or buzzard - it ensnared his whole attention so thoroughly that he failed to hear the couple return to bed until he heard Kazuichi complaining about another set of his sheets being ‘ruined’.

So he worked on throwing his boxers and washcloth into his hamper - quietly because just because the goth knew didn’t mean Kazuichi did - and silently settled himself in bed. He curled into himself, back resolutely facing the weak spot where low moaning and sounds of wet kissing echo loudly like a clock chime. Again, he felt his dick twitch in interest again and he groaned quietly into his pillow.

There was no way he was going to get any sleep tonight.

God fucking dammit.

End

#I come bearing soudam #and fuyusoudam if you squint slightly #happy bday Kaz #soudam #fuyusoudam #soudam fic #sdr2 #danganronpa #fuyusoudam fic

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apinklion01 · 3 years ago

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Ghostly Phic Phight

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A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38574756

For @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics and @silverwing013

Who Needs a Heart When a Heart Can be Broken?

Ember heard the creak of the floorboards before she spotted Jazz. The teen always wore shoes that looked like they belonged at an office rather than a school. Her hair was held back by her signature blue hairband which matched with her blue eyes.

The ghost knew something was up. Sure she was fine performing around the city, whether it was an official concert or not. But only teens that needed a more private talk about romance knew to look for her in Amity Park’s park, specifically on a small bridge overlooking a river.

It started with Hannah, an average cheerleader whose crying was enough for the rockstar to take pity on her. Then after her, it was Star. Then Kwan, Angella, Marco, Pablo. In the span of a month, Ember accidentally became the source to talk about relationship issues.

Ember gave a nod in the teen’s direction. “Sup Red. I didn’t take you for the kind of girl to have trouble with anyone.”

“Oh, it’s not with me!” Jazz immediately corrected, pulling a hair back behind her hairband. “It’s um... actually my brother, Danny.”

“Dipstick? What did he do?”

“It’s more like what he’s doing. He seems really quiet when it comes to mentioning things between him and Paulina.”

Ember grew confused, leaning away from the bridge’s rails and standing shifting her weight onto her right leg. “Well what do you want me to do about it? You’re his family, pretty sure it's not that different from the shit you two talk about.”

“Well... I-I don’t have any experience myself romance wise to talk about it, and he's not exactly opening up to anyone,” Jazz admitted, leaning over and peering at the river. “Not me, not Tucker, or Sam.”

“The goth and the tech geek didn’t pry anything out of him?” Ember said, holding back any shock that ran in her mind. Those three were usually thick as thieves. “Mmm, yeah, this is spelling out a classic case of denial. How long has he been like this?”

Jazz paused to count her fingers, muttering words to herself and shaking her head. “Three months, going on four… He keeps saying it’ll get better and they’ll work things out, but I don’t think it will.”

“How long has he been eyeing her?”

“Since 8th grade, apparently. Not that I was paying attention at the time...” Jazz paused and looked up at Ember. “Am I a bad sister for not being able to help him out?”

The ghost rockstar blinked and subconsciously pulled back a hair, the question unexpected.

“I uhh... I dunno. I was an only child, I don’t know how siblings work… But it is a lot easier dealing with bad relationships of any kind with someone to support you.”

“I just wish there was something more I could do,” Jazz muttered, looking gloomingly at the river again. Her hair drooped over her eyes.

“You did all you could, Red,” Ember answered. “Like you said, romance isn’t your expertise. Can’t exactly half-ass an answer for babypop’s problem.”

Silence again.

The ghost sighed before putting a hand on the her shoulder, giving a comforting pat. “Tell you what. Bring your brother to the Nasty Burger at around 7:30 PM tomorrow, I’ll see if I can talk some sense into him.”

A blue eye peeked out from the hair. “You promise?”

“Promise is a strong word, but yeah, I’ll do it.”

Jazz pulled her hair back, revealing a faint smile. “...Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Ember answered back. “Try telling him you think it’ll cheer him up or something like that. Anything that avoids spilling the beans. Sure you can keep it under wraps?”

The teen gave a small half-hearted laugh. “I’ve been keeping his big secret under my parents’ nose for three years. I can handle this.”

“Now there’s the Red I know,” Ember chuckled. Jazz started laughing as well.

_Pink Lion_

The Nasty Burger had existed since before Ember and a lot of other ghosts were born. The 50s style diner charmed a good number of locals and tourists yearly, hitting a peak around mid summer.

It wasn’t summer yet by any means. Winter hung around Amity Park until late April, despite weathermen claiming spring arrived a few weeks ago.

A freak snowstorm firmly put them in their place.

Ember was just a block away from the Nasty Burger. Despite having a fire core, it wasn’t enough to shelter her from the cold, so she was wearing a warm jacket. She glanced at her phone waiting for Jazz’s text.

Message history

Eternal Flame

Are you guys there yet?

Message read

Red

Red is typing…

Red

We just got here.

I don’t think Danny’s suspected a thing. He’s trying to distract himself by looking at his phone.

Eternal Flame

Would now be a good time to make my dramatic entrance?

Red

I think.

Just don’t do anything too rash, otherwise he’ll think you’re asking for an actual fight.

Eternal Flame

Nah don’t worry

Won’t even hurt a fly

Mosquitos are another thing, I’m toasting them to a crisp

Red

Ember

Eternal Flame

Right, I’ll go talk to babypop, you just wait a bit

If I don’t show up in thirty minutes max, assume your brother decided to put me in the thermos

“Alright, show time,” The ghost muttered to herself as she flew up towards the Nasty Burger, turning invisible to not draw the attention of any possible fans. Snow stopped falling from the sky, the clouds breaking away and revealing a bit of the night sky.

“Good riddance too. Not enough of a crowd on cold days outside…”

Peering through the glass, she made out a familiar face: Red. However, her raven haired brother wasn’t around.

Turning intangible, she weaved through the crowd till she found Jazz, who was glancing around worryingly.

“Where did babypop go?” She whispered. She heard the teen give a quiet gasp out of surprise.

“Shit, you almost made me jump,” The other muttered, pulling back a few strands of her hair.

“Sorry, hard habit for a ghost to drop Red.”

“It’s fine. I think he went to the roof of the diner. He didn’t seem in the mood to talk to me.”

“Guess that beats me setting off car alarms,” Ember answered. The teen let out a huff, a small smile appearing on her face.

“You sure you can handle him?” Jazz asked, her voice tinged with worry.

“Look if someone doesn’t talk to him about this, it won’t be good for him or anyone he cares about. Might as well be me.”

The rockstar gave her one more reassuring pat before she passed through the ceiling till she was once again outside of the diner. It was silent except for the sound of cars passing by, and a faint song. It wasn’t just one that passed on the radio or one of those streaming apps.

Her core began ringing. The song was one about heartache.

Glancing around, she found the source of the music: a small speaker that was loud enough for someone on the rooftop to hear, but quiet to anyone passing below. Danny was sitting nearby.

Ember had thoughts about walking up, but then she heard the first lyrics of the song play.

~You must understand, though the touch of your hand~

~Makes my pulse react~

She stopped dead in her tracks.

~That it's only the thrill of boy meeting girl~

~Opposites attract~

The gentle guitar riff from the start, the steady R&B beat, the hoarse but soulful voice.

‘No way... Tina Turner?’ A thin bittersweet smile appeared on her face as the song continued. ‘Haven’t heard her in forever...’

“Oh-o-oh, What's love got to do, got to do with it?” Ember heard Danny sing along, his voice cracking up. “What's love but a second-hand emotion? What's love got to do, got to do with it?”

“Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken,” She softly mouthed along, walking till she was beside him. Listening to the song brought back both good and bad memories from the last few months as a human. It was almost fitting that the half ghost was singing along to the same tune.

Closer up, she saw Danny’s eyebags seemed darker than usual, a hoodie slipped over his messy hair. His eyes weren’t the usual eyeburning neon, but a dark green, a few flecks of yellow green trying to spark up to no avail.

‘Now I know why Jazz wanted my help... He's trying to deny it so badly, and it’s not easy at all...’

Ember slowly turned visible, and waited for the song to end.

Danny didn’t seem to notice her at all, his ghost sense blending right along with the cold air around them. Tears threatened to leak down his face, but he kept scrunching his eyes hoping they’d go away.

She didn’t mind though. ‘He needs to let off a bit of that pain on his own terms before I can start talking.’

As the song faded out, she couldn’t help but let out a wistful sigh. “I haven't heard that song since I was alive...”

Danny finally noticed his ghost sense going off and jerked his body away from her. The brief moment of fear faded back into suspicion.

“The hell are you doing here, Ember?” The half ghost asked, pausing the playlist on his phone.

“What, can’t I stop by and listen to that tune you were playing before getting stopped by the fun police?” She joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

He sighed. “Just go, I’m not in the mood to fight.”

“I’m not exactly looking for one, babypop,” She said with a shrug. “What’s eating you anyways?”

“Why do you care?”

“Well for one, I’m not getting my ass thrashed right now, two, you didn’t think about throwing around any banter, and three, you’re not calling any of your buddies for backup. So either Spectra paid you a visit earlier or something else is up.”

Danny sighed. “No, but I’m pretty sure whatever emotions I’m giving off would make her look forever 31 for a hundred years.”

Ember grimaced at the thought. “Gross, but maybe you’re being a bit harsh on-”

“My sister asked you to talk to me, right?”

Whatever sort of a grin she had on her face began to waver. ‘So much for trying to not look suspicious...’

“I already know about the good handful of rumors about you being a romance counselor,” Danny answered, his voice starting to grow distorted from her core’s ringing. “Even the actual counselors know, and that’s saying something.”

“They do?” Ember said.

“Yeah,” Danny continued. “Of course you’d try acting surprised, it’s probably inflating your ego. I doubt there’s any real reason you’d try to help me.”

Genuinely, Ember knew a lot of students talked to her about their problems, and she didn’t mind that sort of attention.

It felt different from trying to name any of her so-called number one fans from a rock concert. Unlike them, they put in the effort to make themselves memorable from their quirks. A rock collection, super computer skills, a love of horror, a drive to help others. Even to the point where she gave them a nickname.

‘I never expected this to go so far,’ She thought to herself. ‘Not until Red started bringing along her friends to see if I could help out. And if she trusts me to talk with her brother alone, I need to make sure it gets done.’

‘After all, there’s more than one way to break a heart...’

Ember knew she had to say something. Her core was practically screaming from the emotions coming from the half ghost, and it was really getting hard to concentrate, her vision starting to strain.

He already had the speaker in his pocket, and his shoes were just starting to phase through-

“Tina Turner dropped that song in 1984,” She started. “I never really listened to it until the last months of my life in 1990.”

Mentioning when a ghost died was a very touchy subject. For Ember to outright say it was another thing all along, a secret that should only be entrusted to those who could keep it.

Danny hovered in the air, one foot already gone, the other mere inches away from the floor. The ringing was still strong, but she had his attention.

“I met this guy when I snuck into a party,” Ember continued. “I was heads over heels for him, thought he was a prince. I managed to get his attention after he heard me singing, and we started dating.”

She remembered him too well. Strong build, a denim jacket with a few patches, curled dark hair, eyes that were deep brown. A voice that was smooth as butter, but just as easily deceiving. An ever tempting devil in disguise.

“We hung out, but I always did the talking and the hugging. Sometimes he told me that he had to go hang out with some buddies right before a date or two. I didn’t think it mattered at first. After all, I was with my dream boy, and things were going to go happily ever after.”

Danny was still there, his head held up a little higher, his deep breathes starting to create a trail of fog. His other foot appeared, and he settled down solid onto the floor.

“But the thing about dreams is that some can turn into nightmares,” Ember went on, the same sadness from over 20 years ago starting to cling to her throat.

“Two weeks passed since I last talked to him. I thought it was just from school or some shit like that. But then I caught him and another chick, hand in hand, walking down the hall like they just fell in love in a movie. I thought it was the most fucked up thing that ever happened to me.”

The half ghost sat quietly on the ground, his eyes focused on the snow lying around. He began hugging himself as some source of comfort.

She softly sighed and walked closer to Danny. It wasn’t easy for her to tell the story, especially when it looked like the person listening knew how it went as well.

“I broke up afterwards… It was a few months afterwards that my house burned up with me in it. I didn’t leave the zone for a good decade afterwards cause not only was I suddenly dead, but I died without really moving on from my first guy…”

The first five years were the hardest for Ember. Every day she woke up hoping her breakup and death were just a dream, and every night she cried to sleep. Mourning the chance to never grow up and live a life on her own terms, mourning the chance to never make friends who would’ve stayed by her side.

Mourning the chance to never fall in love... never saying the vow of til death do us part…

‘Even now I’d give anything to have that chance again…’

A ring of light began to form over Danny, and she turned away. As soon as it faded, she sat down right besides him and checked his face. He did the same and stared back. Tears starting to pool from his eyes, stained green from his ghostly glow. His legs tense, curled up closer to his body.

“Why are you telling me this?” He whispered.

Another question hung in the air unsaid: ‘Why can’t I stay with her?’

“Because you need to let her go,” Ember whispered, her core starting to tremble. She sucked in another breath, hoping it would stop.

“Jazz told me how much you’ve wanted Paulina for the longest time, and how much effort you’re putting in to make it work. But if she isn’t interested in getting to know and love you, both sides of you, she doesn’t deserve to have you in your life... and if you don’t let go now, you’re never going to find the right one.”

“...W-What if I mess up again...” He asked. “I-I’m freaky Fenton, Fenton the failure, puny Fentino, w-who the hell would want to date me anyways?”

Not waiting for an answer, Danny hid his head under his arms. Only his raven black hair was visible.

Ember didn’t respond for a moment, her own memories of dealing with a breakup resurfacing her mind. It was so tempting to fly away, to run back into the Ghost Zone, to bury the pain again.

‘But Red’s counting on me...And I can’t- No...I won’t let her down.’

She put a hand on his shoulder, just like she did with Jazz, and gave a reassuring pat.

“High school won’t last forever, Danny. Breaking up with someone is gonna feel like hell for a while, not gonna lie. But if I can become an 80s themed rockstar who’s first hit was about my breakup, you can find someone who sees your worth like all of your buddies who’ve done their damn hardest to help you out.”

A green-tinted teal eye peeked out from under the black hair, ever so similar to the way his sister did it.

“And you’re lucky to have them,” She paused to chuckle. “I’d give anything to have known people like them way back then.”

She was met briefly with silence. For a moment, Ember thought she made things worse.

“Danny...? Are you-”

A sudden hug stopped Ember, her hair flaring up from surprise. Danny’s body shook, the sobs loud, but the ringing in her core dimmed. Snow started falling from the sky ever so softly.

When she was alive, she never felt comfortable enough to talk to anyone about her breakup, feeling too ashamed. It was hard talking about the experience to anyone.

But that’s why Ember comforted teens every time they cried.

“You’re good, babypop,” She whispered, returning the hug. “Just let it all out now... Shhh...”

It was rare for Ember to give hugs, much less to someone like Danny. But for once, she didn’t mind it, even as tears began dropping on her jacket.

_Pink Lion_

The diner was nearly empty except for Jazz, Danny’s friends, and a few employees starting to clean up the place when Ember and the half ghost walked back inside.

“He’s a little chilly, sorry we took a while Red,” She apologized to Jazz.

Glancing over, she saw that the goth and the geek didn’t waste a second to cover their friend in a blanket. He stood still before giving his friends a hug, crying again. Her core rang, but not as loud as before.

“It’s okay, Em,” Red told her. “I think this is the first time in a while he’s talked to them. Just getting him to open up is all that really matters.”

“You might want to head back home, think more snow’s coming down. And I don’t think a diner’s the best place for shelter."

“Yeah you’re right. My parents already called me twice, and if I don’t go right now, they might think Danny and I were kidnapped by ghosts again.”

“Oh dear ancients, now that is a disaster I’d like to avoid,” Ember laughed, Jazz doing the same.

“I guess my work’s done, so I better head back to the Zone,” She added, beginning to walk away.

“Wait!”

The rockstar paused and turned around to the Red again. She looked oddly flustered, her hand held in a pause position.

“Y-You could stay in my room until the storm passes,” Jazz offered, her hand pulling back a few strands of her hair. “My dad said that w-we’ll have to shut down the portal temporarily to conserve energy.”

“Oh,” Ember answered, scratching her head. “So that explains why no one was able to come in and out as easily from the Zone the other day.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“No worries Red, beats bunkering down with the Box Ghost by accident again.”

A snort was heard from the trio nearby. “You really did that?” Sam asked, attempting to cover her grin. Tucker and Danny were both glancing in shock and amusement.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, that’s the last time I’m ever saying something like that in front of you three,” Ember muttered as she facepalmed, unable to shake her own smile off her face. The trio only started to laugh harder.

The snow started to fall harder outside, the sky now dark. “Alright, let’s get in Red’s car, the snow’s gonna make Amity Park look like the Far Frozen.”

“Wait, who’s Red?” Tucker asked.

She heard a tiny high pitched hum from Jazz, her face starting to flush from what was presumably embarrassment.

“Um, Jazz?” Ember answered. “Ain’t it obvious?”

“Well now it is,” Sam said, giving a look that was ever so smug as all five started to walk outside of the diner.

Now the rockstar was confused. “What did I say?”

“Oh, just ask Jazz later when we get home,” The goth assured her. “I’m pretty sure she can explain it better.”

“Sam!” Jazz said, her face now fully red.

“Fine, I’ll drop it!”

_Pink Lion_

It was strange being in the home of not only the half ghost, but the ghost hunting parents of said half ghost. Somehow the geek managed to find a way to let Ember go inside without setting off any alarms in the process.

Red distracted her parents while Ember waited quietly in the kitchen until Jazz came, the sweater she wore earlier switched with some pajamas. It was well past 10 PM by that point, the lights almost turned off, Ember’s ghostly glow the only remaining light left.

The trio were sound asleep in Danny’s room, sleeping together on his bed. It was admittedly a cute sight to see: Sam’s hair covering her eyes, Tucker’s mouth open giving a small snore, and Danny hugging his friends even while unconscious.

“And to think I thought they’d be up till the sun comes,” Ember muttered, peering through the door.

“You’re forgetting that they usually do that every night,” Jazz added quietly, closing the door after making sure the trio were alright. “It’s rare for them to sleep without worrying about ghosts.”

“Oh…” Ember made a note to not do anything rash for a while. Babypop would definitely need a break for a solid three months.

“So... am I snoozing on the couch, or somewhere else?”

“Oh, no,” The teen told her, her face once again flushed. “I-I’ve got a window ledge in my room that has cushions, you can sleep over there. I-I don’t think I’d want my parents to accidentally shoot you in the morning, much less destroy the living room.”

Ember raised a brow. “What’s up with you, Red? You’ve been acting weird ever since we left the diner.”

“I-It’s nothing, really. The guys caught me off guard by the question they asked about my nickname at the diner,” She said, looking down at the floor in embarrassment.

“You sure?”

“Yes, nothing else-” She went to open the door to her room.

“Red,” Ember said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Jazz froze before she looked up with her blue eyes.

“You can trust me,” She added, giving a gentle smile.

The teen inhaled softly. The rockstar could even feel a faint fast pulse coming from her.

“You know... when I said I couldn’t help Danny cause I didn’t have any experience with romance?” She started.

“Yeah?”

“Well, um... I-I’ve never managed to tell a-anyone I have a crush on a-about any feelings I’ve had for them.” Jazz looked away, her face fully red.

For some reason, Ember began remembering one of the first teens who talked to her, Kwan. He seemed to react the same way when she asked about who he had a crush on, revealing it was a guy on the football team.

He seemed pretty embarrassed about the whole thing, just like Jazz was right now-

‘Wait a minute.’

‘Nervous glances, racing pulse, stuttering only at me…’

‘... OH .’

Now it was Ember’s turn to blush a bright blue. She silently thanked the ancients that the trio was asleep. She was the fucking romance counselor, but she didn’t see any of the signs before till now?

"I… I-I didn't think you'd think of me like that. I-I mean yeah, I know we hang out a lot," She said, using her free hand to scratch the back of her neck nervously.

Jazz began looking down at the floor, pursing her lips. Her core made a worried chirp.

"...But, y'know… I think I'm okay with it," She added, giving an awkward smile.

The ringing from her core quickly faded, the teens' pulse picking up, but her anxiety fading.

"Y… You mean it?" She whispered.

"Of course, Red. You’re really smart, and willing to help people, even if they’re not sure about it. Hell, I think babypop definitely feels better after our talk tonight.”

“You’re a great person, Jazz, no doubt about that,” Ember continued. Was it hot in here, or was it just her fire core acting up? “Though, if you want us to be a thing, you might want to wait at least a month. I haven’t dated a girl before, and I also think it might be good to let your brother have some space away from romance.”

“Oh. Shit. Right,” Jazz said, giving a nervous chuckle. “Like I said, clueless a-about how this works.”

A giant snore was heard down the hall, catching both teens off guard. A faint mutter followed before silence filled the house again.

“Don’t worry, that’s just my dad,” The teen quietly spoke up.

“I thought that was a bear,” Ember whispered.

“No, but I’m pretty sure he can wrestle one.”

“Good to know...”

Both teens walked into Jazz’s room. Ember’s glow excluded the need for the light to be on. The rockstar glanced around as Jazz went to find some spare blankets.

A few lights and pale pink curtains dangled over her bed. A desk was covered in papers, presumably homework assignments she had yet to finish. A few shelves had books, some about psychology and the human body, others in fiction or about ghosts.

The window ledge couch looked comfortable, plenty of extra cushions nearby, though Ember was certain she didn’t need all of them. Curtains covered what would’ve been a view of the city, but tonight the snow and darkness didn’t leave much to see.

The ghost felt a nudge and turned around. “Here you go,” Jazz said, holding out the blankets.

“Thanks, Red,” She thanked the teen. “G'night.”

“Night.”

As she lied down on the ledge couch, Ember felt a small shiver go down her back.

‘Am I really ready to try again? After all these years, after so many times, so many failures?’

She glanced at Jazz, curled up in her bed, giving a few quiet murmurs in her sleep. She looked absolutely at peace, and, admittedly cute.

Ember smiled. ‘...I guess it couldn’t hurt to try.’

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2022 #ember mclain #jazz fenton #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #paulina sanchez #dp kwan #dp star #kind of

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leswansong · 6 years ago

Text

Marichat May - Kitty Cats & Ballet Shoes

Day Nine: Ice Skating

[ A03 ]

Marinette really hated Chat Noir sometimes, he wouldn’t listen to her no matter how many times she brought up the fact that he was injured so after three days of him begging she finally agreed to go with him.

The snow had come early this year, they still had three weeks until winter was supposed to arrive but that didn’t stop Chat from taking the opportunity to have some fun. The first day after heavy snow was when he asked she said no because she was far too worried about him slipping and hurting himself further so when she returned home from her long shift at the library he had surprised her with an impromptu snowball fight, she had won of course but mainly because she was being more competitive. The second day he had asked again and she once again said no but it was for her own selfish reasons and when she returned home the next day a snowman was waiting for her at the foot of the steps that lead up to her apartment. This morning in her half-asleep state she had said yes, yes to Ice Skating.

Chat had healed a lot in the week and a half that he had stayed with her, she had pushed him to stay with her a lot longer when he tripped and fell headfirst into her wooden coffee table, he didn’t protest much.

Marinette snivelled and groaned, she was already coming down with her dreaded yearly winter cold. She had to dig around in her spare wardrobe for her winter coats and boots just so she wouldn’t freeze out on the ice and so she wouldn’t freeze out in the cold winter Parisian streets because Chat insisted that they head out after midnight just as an extra precaution. She hated that idea because it would be close to freezing or just past it which meant she was going to be cold and miserable for most of the night, she was just glad that she didn’t have work or any dance classes to attend to the next morning.

Sighing she tugged on her blush pink scarf and beanie knowing that she couldn’t procrastinate forever no matter how much she really wanted to, her hand reached for the cold doorknob and reluctantly she opened it. Chat was waiting on the other side for her, her eyes instantly noticed the large black case in his right hand and her curiosity had peaked, she wondered what was in it. Then she noticed his black suit wasn’t its usual form fitting as it used to be, it looked as if he was wearing several jackets underneath it but somehow not at the same time, a few tuffs of fur stuck out around his collar and Marinette really wanted to know just how warm his suit was.

“You ready?” he asked distracting her from her train of thought.

“Yeah…” her voice trailed off.

Chat took her hand and started to lead her to her own front door, she could see the excitement in his face, she wished she could feel that way but the looming sense of dread in her stomach wouldn’t leave her alone, she wanted to tell him what her heart was telling her at that moment but as soon as she opened her mouth her anxiety chased it back.

She struggled with her keys because of how much her hands were shaking, Chat took them from her and unlocked the door for her, she stepped outside and instantly wanted to return to her somewhat warm apartment. She buried her hands into her pockets to save them from the stinging cold and waited only for Chat to hand her back her keys, she reluctantly removed her left hand to take the cold pieces of metal from him.

“Are you cold?” he queried.

She quickly nodded her head.

He chuckled slightly, “Let’s get you moving then, you’ll warm up faster.”

She started walking down the steps leaving Chat at her front door, he raced down the steps after her. His hand dug into her pocket to take her right hand, he forced it open and gave her the set of gloves from his suit, she hadn’t seen him take them off but she graciously took them from him and quickly put them on. The inside had been made with soft fur, the softest she had ever felt, it reminded her of the fur of the sleeping kittens safely tucked away in her apartment. The gloves were surprisingly warm; her hand hadn’t grown hot or sweaty in them making her love them even more. She looked over at him to see him bury his hands into the gloves she had bought for him, she smiled and bravely she removed her now warm gloved hand from her pocket to hold his hand making the thief’s already red cheeks grow slightly darker; she tried to hide the smile tugging at the corner of her lips from him.

She allowed him to lead her towards the ice skating rink, it had been a very long time since she had been there, she cast her mind back to try and remember the last time she had been there, her mind eventually settled on… Luka. She groaned internally, no matter what she did he always wormed his way to the forefront of her memories, there was no escaping him not when he had played such a major role in her life for so long.

“Marinette? Are you okay?”

She pulled herself from the start of a long and dark spiral of sad memories long since passed. She looked at Chat and tried to give him her bravest smile to try and calm his worried look. An ungloved hand reached up to her cheek and wiped away a tear that she hadn’t realized that she’d cried. She looked to see where they were only to find that they had arrived at their destination.

“We- We don’t have to do this if you-“

She cut him off, “No I want to do this,” she tried to reassure him but it was more for herself.

She needed to do this, she needed to prove to herself that she was past him, that she was okay, that she didn’t need him to survive.

“Are you sure?” Chat asked again.

She nodded her head, “let’s go before I freeze out here.”

He gave her an uncertain smile then whispered something beyond her range of hearing, he pressed his hand to the lock on the doors and it crumbled to ash, her eyes grew wide, this was now the second time she had seen him do something beyond her imagination but he didn’t seem to notice her shock when he took her hand and led her into the darkened arena.

“Stay here,” he whispered dropping her hand.

She heard his feet walked off somewhere very quickly and a door open, she wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to stay warm when the lights and the small amount of heating the building had turned on. She headed over to where the skates were kept and she wandered over to where the ones in her size were stored. She looked up to see Chat walking over the ice, he seemed to be inspecting it, she frowned but kept her eyes on him as she sat down to put her skates on.

“What are you doing?” She called out to him.

“Making sure the ice is solid,” he called back and he started walking towards her, “Need some help?” he asked.

She shook her head, “I’m fine.”

He shrugged his shoulders and sat down beside her, he opened the case he had brought with him revealing a nice pair of sleek black leather skates, she really wanted to know where he got them so she could get herself a pair.

“You ready?”

She took a deep breath and nodded her head.

Chat helped her to her feet, she could dance with perfect balance but somehow when she was out of her pointe shoes she had the extreme tendency to trip and fall; she found it strange that she had yet to fall in front of Chat and really didn’t want to jinx herself.

Slowly he led her out onto the ice, her feet wobbled and her anxiety rose higher within her causing Chat to hold on her slightly tighter. She had never been any good at skating whether it was roller or ice no matter how much time Luka sank into trying- No, she shook her head having already gone down that route many times before.

“You okay?” Chat asked leading her further out on the ice.

She nervously nodded her head.

Her legs grew stiff and tense, she was terrified of falling. Slowly her mind registered that Chat was running small circles on her wrists with his fingers, calming her and eventually her mussels loosened and her fears dissipated. Soon a wave of confidence filled her, she let go of him and she skated carefully around the outside of the rink. Chat smiled and clapped giving her even more confidence, he started to skate faster than her and she quickened her pace.

They went around the rink several times before she took her attention off of her skates to look over at him and that’s when she felt her foot slip, she braced herself for the cold hard impact. Her arms made contact first then her chest, she slid along the ice a bit before coming to a complete stop. She slowly sat up and tried to stand but her skates kept slipping out from under her, she was about to resign herself to crawling off the ice when the sound of Chat’s skates headed towards her. He held out his hands to help her up, her feet wobbled a bit but he helped balance her out.

She pushed herself away from him as soon as she was standing so she could tear her jacket off to inspect the bruises that were starting to form.

“That was a hard fall,” he commented.

“Felt like it too.”

She threw her large bulky jacket aside just managing to get it over the tall glass. She was angry with herself and in that moment she decided to force herself to continue skating even if her legs protested.

Chat speed up beside her, “Marinette… Maybe you should take a break.”

“No,” she shook her head and she tried to make her legs move faster.

Chat sighed and reposition himself so he was once again skating beside her, “Marinette stop, please.”

She didn’t listen and continued to skate, his hand flew out and pulled her into him, using himself to slow her down she came to a stop. She didn’t protest, she looked everywhere but his eyes but the empty ice rink only brought her distant memories from a time when she wasn’t running from her heartbreak.

She had avoided those memories, locked them away to try and escape the pain but somedays…. Somedays she wasn’t strong enough to keep that box locked and today… today seemed to be one of those days.

Ice skating was something that she and Luka tried to do every two weeks, he loved the activity and looking around at the rink and at the sidelines all she could see was him. He was like a host on the ice, she could see him clear as day leap and twirl in the air and still make the perfect landing. Marinette knew the move all too well but she could never replicate in on the cold ice. She tried to look somewhere else but she could see herself with him sharing what used to be her favourite flavour of ice cream.

She was confused when a tear rolled down her cheek, when had she started crying? And then her heart realized that she had opened the forbidden locked box and it clawed at her bringing all the pain she had buried trying to forget the black haired boy, but unlike the other times she couldn’t close it and she cried, she cried like she had never done before. She hadn’t even cried when Alya had flown back to try and comfort her. Somewhere in her grief Chat had pulled her into a tight embrace, she clung to him as if her life depended on it.

The flood gates had opened and there was no closing it until the dam had run dry. She had instantly packed away all of her feelings when it was happening, she moved on and pushed herself to dance, she threw herself into any and every production even if it was a minor role. Her parents where the only ones that saw it for what it truly was and tried to convince her to slow down but nothing could, not even a hospital stay for exhaustion could stop her.

She had never faced the pain and hurt that Luka had left her with and regretfully she let the painful memory resurface. Images of her old apartment that she shared with him came first, then came that day, she had just returned from landing her first major role when he said those hurtful words, she packed her bags with everything she could carry and boxed up the rest. She had sent a quick message to her father and once everything had been packed into the small family delivery truck. She hadn’t said a word to him not even when she slammed the door in his face. That day she vowed to herself to never see him or mentioned him again.

Slowly the tears dried up and now she was dry crying, all the pain she had kept buried deep down slowly subsided, it felt good to finally get it all out but it didn’t disappear, it was now slightly dulled. She wiped away the remaining tears that were running down her face.

Marinette slowly realized that she had been moved off the ice to the sidelines and was now sitting in Chat’s lap facing away from the massive sheet. He didn’t say anything; her head was still slightly buried into his chest so he probably didn’t know that she had calmed down. She felt safe in his arms and really didn’t want to move but eventually, she had too; gently she pushed against him and he loosened the tight embrace that made her feel safe and loved from around her leaving her exposed to the world.

“I-“she tried to explain but no words formed.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

She tried to smile but couldn’t so she nodded her head instead.

“I think we should get going, I don’t know when the owner gets here to start setting up,” he told her.

Shakely she nodded her head relieved that they were going to be leaving the rink and the memories behind.

Chat shifted her off of his lap to the seat next to him, he kept hold of her legs and started to remove her skates, she didn’t protest she just sat there as he swapped them for her winter boots, then packed away his own skates.

“I’m guessing you want to head home.”

She sniffled and nodded her head, her face felt red hot and puffy from crying.

A mischievous smile spread across his face. “Hold this,” he instructed and handed her the sleek black case his skates were in.

She rolled her eyes but followed his command.

Chat quickly scooped her up into his arms and picked her up bridal style, she threw her free arm around her neck to steady herself.

“Hold on,” he murmured.

He headed out the door of the ice rink, his slow and steady pace slowly rocked her to sleep.

Marinette yawned and stretched, the warm glow of the morning or afternoon sun, she didn’t know, floated in through a window. Her mind was hazy but she felt the soft familiar sheets of her bed, her eyes adjusted long enough to read the small note on her bedside table before she fell back into a deep sleep.

‘Hope you slept well Princess,

I wish I could have hung around

to say goodbye but duty calls.

I’ll see you again soon Mari.’

-Chat Noir

Made For @marichatmay

<—Previous Drabble Master List Next—>

#marichat may #marichat #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #Kitty Cats & Ballet Shoes #SwanSongWrites #I keep drabbling on

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aswithasunbeam · 7 years ago

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One Summer Day

Summary: On a hot, rainy summer day in 1794, Hamilton finds his daughter bereft of other company and determines to spend some quality time with her. An adventure to the Philadelphia Museum, a sweet shop, and several hours of singing, dancing, and playing follow.

[Also available on A03]

Hamilton flipped through the morning paper somewhat lethargically. The words on the page kept blurring together. He closed his eyes for a moment and reached for the cup of coffee on the table. Eliza’s letter telling him baby John was out of danger had eased him greatly, but the heat and continued anxiety for his wife and baby conspired to make sleep difficult last night. The air was still hot and humid this morning, doing little to aid his focus. He’d forgone his jacket entirely this morning and rolled his shirtsleeves up when he’d sat at the table. Even so, he could feel sweat beading on his brow.

Footsteps on the wooden floor had him looking up to see Angelica coming to the breakfast table. She wore a light-weight white dress appropriate for the late summer heat, and one of the maids had drawn her dark curls back with a pink ribbon. She came up to his chair and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled. “Good morning, my little angel.”

“Morning, Papa,” she replied apathetically, sliding into her own seat.

He frowned at her lackluster greeting. “Are you feeling well, sweetheart?”

She nodded and reached for a bread roll. He studied her a moment longer and perceived no reason to doubt her, so he turned his attention back to the paper until he heard her heave a great sigh. His eyes snapped back to his daughter.

“What’s wrong?” he pressed, placing his paper down on the table.

She looked at him with a mournful expression. “It’s raining.”

He nearly laughed, but managed to hold it in. “I saw. Hopefully the rain will break this terrible heat we’ve been enduring.”

“Philip and Alex went back to school yesterday, Fanny is visiting Mrs. Morris, and it’s raining.” All those statements were factually true, but he struggled to reason out why she was reciting them. She sighed again. “I have no one to play with.”

Ah. He considered for a moment. As it was Saturday, he wasn’t expected at the Treasury office, but he did have work to do this morning. Still, he could schedule in some time with his little girl, he reasoned.

“Perhaps we could spend some time together today,” he suggested.

Her brow furrowed lightly. “Don’t you have to work?”

“Well, I do have some things I need to do at my desk this morning. But you could sit in my office with me while you study or work on your embroidery. After that, we can do whatever you like.”

“Really?” Her dark eyes lit up with wary delight.

“Really,” he assured her.

She bit her lip, considering. “You could help me with my French lessons,” she suggested, clearly seeking his approval with this first request.

“Whatever you like, my darling girl,” he promised.

“Could we play the piano?”

“Of course.”

“And play marbles?”

“If you wish.”

“You could watch the new dance I learned.”

“I’d love that.”

She grinned, and dug into her breakfast with a new enthusiasm. He began to read his paper once more as he picked at some of the fruit on his plate. Still having difficulty focusing, he found himself glancing over the top at his daughter. The watermelon pieces disappeared rapidly from her plate, he noted with a smile.

When Angelica had finished her breakfast, he asked, “Have you finished all the work your tutor assigned?”

She nodded, her curls bouncing in their pony tail. “Yes, Papa.”

“Mama wants you to practice your needlework, then,” he directed, repeating the instructions Eliza had included in her last letter.

He laughed quietly as he watched her scurry away from the table to fetch her sewing, bounding back into the dining room in record time. Pushing away from the table, he motioned for her to follow him into his office. He settled in at his desk and looked back to see Angelica tucking her feet under her in the big armchair across the room. Her tongue poked out between her teeth as she focused on the needlework before her. With a sigh of his own, he set to his work.

Over two hours passed before he heard his active nine-year-old begin fidgeting in her seat. He smirked as he finished the letter he was writing, casting his eye over the rest of the papers on his desk. All the most pressing matters seemed to have been handled, he noted, thumbing through the stack beside him. A printed newsletter sat on the bottom, and he paused, reading over the heading.

He turned in his seat and announced, “I have an idea.”

Angelica sat up eagerly in the armchair.

“How would you like to visit Mr. Peale’s Museum?” He’d been a supporter of the Philadelphia Museum for several years, even serving on the board two years ago, but he’d yet to bring Angelica along for a visit. Despite his yearly subscription, even he had not been since it had reopened in its new location closer to the State House.

Angelica’s eyes lit up at the prospect. Philip had clearly shared details of an earlier visit with his beloved little sister, because she immediately began chattering about all the creatures she wanted to see. “We need to see the panthers, Papa. And President Washington’s Chinese pheasants. And the fish in the pond. And the cranes.”

“We’ll see all of them,” he assured her. “Do you know they have a yard outside with a live eagle?”

Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Can we go now, Papa?”

“I’ll call for the coach,” he agreed.

When he stood, Angelica surged forward and wrapped him in a tight hug.

He ran upstairs to put on a jacket and cravat, then had one of the servants bring the coach around and walk them out under an umbrella. Angelica bounced in her seat the whole way. Seeing her uncontainable excitement made him regret not thinking to bring her sooner.

The coach stopped outside the entrance to the hall of the American Philosophical Society, where Peale had rented the upstairs rooms for his expanded museum. A sign out front indicated the menagerie of live creatures could be found around the back of the building. Angelica spotted it immediately and asked, “Can we see the eagle first?”

A steady drizzle persisted in the muggy August air. He frowned and suggested, “Why don’t we go inside first, and see if the rain lets up so we can enjoy the animals longer.”

A flash of disappointment crossed his daughter’s face, but disappeared quickly when the entered the grand hall. Much of Philadelphia society seemed to have had the same idea to visit the museum today; crowds of ladies and gentlemen filled the space, the excited chatter of children echoing around them. He took Angelica’s hand and guided her to the ticket booth, where he gave his name and a shilling to cover Angelica’s ticket.

“We hope you have an enjoyable visit, Mr. Secretary,” the gentleman behind the counter wished.

He nodded his thanks and lead Angelica to the staircase and up to the second floor where the animal exhibits were housed. She was bouncing on her toes again, her head whipping rapidly from side to side as she took in the excitement around her. When they reached the long exhibit hall, Angelica halted, staring up in wonder.

Peale had suspended stuffed birds of all kinds in the air, positioned as if in flight. Hamilton guided her to the side a bit so families behind them had space to pass, smiling down at her delighted expression as she took in the scenery. After a long moment, Angelica clasped his hand and tugged him forward towards the glass encased exhibits along the walls.

“What’s this one?” she asked breathlessly, her nose nearly pressed against the glass of one window.

He found a plaque nearby that identified the stuffed creature as a pelican. “They scoop prey up from the water in their long beaks, and then drain the water before they swallow,” he read aloud.

Angelica’s head bobbed as she stared.

She turned around and gasped. “Look, Papa,” she exclaimed, tugging him over to a preserved grizzly bear standing on its hind legs, towering over the surrounding crowds. She pushed past a group of gaping children to examine the creature more closely.

“Have you seen the live one outside?” a little boy standing nearby queried.

“There’s a live one?” she gasped.

“Two,” the boy confirmed with a grin.

She turned back towards her father and begged, “Can we go outside and see, Papa? Please?”

He laughed. “We will, my darling girl, I promise. Why don’t we finish up inside first, though, hmm?”

She sighed in agreement, turning back to examine the stuffed bear more closely. When she had studied the creature to her satisfaction, she took his hand again and moved back to the walls to see the rest of the creatures. At the end of the hall stood a mound of grass covered earth and an artificial pond, surrounded by lizards, turtles, and frogs. Inside the pond were stuffed fish of all colors and varieties. Angelica released his hand and crouched down to examine a turtle more closely.

He paced over to look at the birds standing on the mound, and noticed the Chinese pheasants President Washington had donated some years ago. The birds had been a gift from Lafayette to Washington when they were alive, and the President had donated them upon their death to Peale to be preserved and enjoyed by the public. He smiled fondly as he thought of his old, dear friend.

“Angelica,” he called. She looked up and hurried to his side as he pointed out the pheasants.

“Were they really from Monsieur Lafayette?”

He nodded his confirmation.

“Mr. Secretary,” a voice called from the crowd. He turned to see Charles Willson Peale himself fighting through the masses of people to approach him. “I didn’t know to expect you today, or I would have greeted you when you arrived.”

“This was a rather spontaneous visit,” he replied, bowing respectfully in greeting. “My daughter was anxious to see your curiosities. She loves wild animals, and holds a special fondness for birds.”

“Have you seen our eagle, yet, Miss Hamilton?” Peale asked, bowing to Angelica.

She shook her head. “Papa said he wanted to wait for the rain to stop,” she sighed.

Peale laughed. “I see.” He turned his attention back to Hamilton. “Might I show you around our expanded space, Mr. Secretary? We have some new additions you wouldn’t have seen before. And perhaps we could visit the back room so Miss Hamilton can see our latest acquisitions not yet out for public view.”

Angelica grinned at the offer.

“Thank you, sir,” he nodded.

Peale took them around on a private tour, pausing for Angelica to marvel at the tiger and the panthers on display. When they had completed the circuit of the room, he took them back into the private offices to see several more animals in the process of being mounted to go out on public display.

Just as they were finishing, Angelica glanced at one of the windows and noted happily, “It’s stopped raining, Papa.”

“So it has,” he agreed, looking out the window see that the sun was peeking out from behind the thick cloud cover.

“I’d lay odds that there’s a rainbow about somewhere,” Peale added.

Excitement was coming off of his daughter in waves. “All right. Let’s go outside.”

Angelica let out a yip, which made him laugh. He turned to Peale and shook his hand warmly. “Thank you for the tour.”

“Anytime, Mr. Secretary,” Peale assured.

He and Angelica made their way outside to the menagerie. A monkey, two grizzly bears, and the American bald eagle were all on display. Angelica threaded her way through the crowds to get close to the eagle, where she stood for a long time simply admiring the creature. Glancing up, he noticed that indeed a vibrant rainbow had formed between the dark clouds and the struggling sun. He tapped Angelica’s shoulder and pointed up at it, pulling her against him in a hug as she beamed up at the bright colors. She turned to embrace him fully, and he bent down to kiss the crown of her head.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked, petting her curls lightly.

She nodded against him.

“Are you ready to go?”

She looked up at him and nodded again.

He took her hand and moved away from the crowds down the path to the front of the building, where their coach was waiting. Before climbing inside, however, he noticed a sweet shop across the road. “Would you like to stop for sweets?” he offered, pointing the shop out to his daughter.

“Yes,” she said decisively, practically skipping across the road with him.

A little bell jingled overhead as they pushed inside. For a penny, he purchased a little bag which Angelica took around to fill with brightly wrapped chocolates, candied cherries, and a host of other delights. They settled back into the coach to go home, and Angelica unwrapped a chocolate, glancing at him warily.

He was sure Eliza would say something about spoiling her dinner were she here, but he decided this was as good a day as any to do so. Rather than stopping her, he leaned forward and asked, “Might I have a candied cherry?”

She grinned and dug around the bag to find one for him.

Arriving back home, he immediately pulled off his jacket and cravat, rolling his sleeves up once more to cool off. They sat down for a light meal, then moved into the parlor to practice at the piano for a while. Abandoning any serious pieces, they played several lively duets and sang loudly, often breaking off in giggles.

“What shall we do next?” he asked, when Angelica seemed to tire of the piano.

“Marbles,” she decided.

“Marbles it is,” he nodded. “Why don’t you go fetch them.”

He stood and dug around in one of the drawers for a piece of chalk. This was typically a game the children played outside, but the ground was still far too wet. He got down on his knees and drew a large circle around himself in the middle of the parlor, making a mental note to apologize profusely to the maid who would need to scrub out the line. Angelica looked both shocked and delighted when she returned to see the circle drawn on the wood floor.

“Ready?” he asked, moving out of the circle and motioning for Angelica to dump the marbles inside. He let her go first, watching fondly as she carefully lined up a shot.

She beat him soundly at each of the three rounds they played. After the last, she sat back on her haunches and asked, “May I show you the new dance I learned, Papa?”

“Yes, of course,” he agreed. He gratefully stood from his hunched position on the floor and sat on the sofa while Angelica demonstrated the latest steps she’d mastered in her dance lessons.

“Very well done,” he praised, applauding softly when she’d finished. He stood and offered, “Would you like me to show you a new dance?”

She bobbed her head excitedly.

He bowed low, as he would to any lady from whom he was requesting a dance. “Might I have the honor, Miss Hamilton?”

She took his hand and nodded primly, then giggled.

“If you would be so good as to step up onto my feet,” he invited.

She giggled harder. “That’s not how you dance, Papa.”

“Ah, I disagree. It is the best way to learn to dance.”

Still looking somewhat skeptical, she placed her little feet on top of his, and he held her around the waist to keep her balanced as he began to demonstrate the steps to one of his favorite dances. She picked up the steps quickly, and they began to dance more properly. Her whole face radiated joy as he spun her around at the end, her dark curls bouncing. She looked just like a tiny version of her mother, he thought, spinning her around again for good measure.

As night fell, the excitement of the day began to catch up with both of them. He settled back on the sofa after a light supper and suggested, “Why don’t you select a story for me to read aloud?”

Angelica did so, bringing him a book and curling up beside him on the sofa as he began to read her selection aloud. At the end of the first chapter, he glanced down to see her dozing against his shoulder. He pressed a kiss against her head to rouse her.

She blinked up at him sleepily, and he told her, “You should go get ready for bed now, sweetheart. I’ll come up to say goodnight when your ready.”

She reached her thin little arm around to embrace him. “That was the best day ever, Papa,” she declared.

“The best day ever?” he repeated softly with a fond smile.

She nodded decisively. “The best day ever.”

#hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #angelica hamilton #father daughter bonding #short and sweet #oneshot #cross post #Also #Hamilton was on the board of the Museum #The year Jefferson wasn't #because of course

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