#continuous learning 📚 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mingiatz · 10 days ago

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👥 Pairing: Choi San x Fem!Reader

💞 Trope: Fuckboy Falls First, Grumpy x Sunshine (but she's the grump), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining

📚 Genre: College AU, Romance, Angst, Fluff

🌟 Featuring: All ATEEZ members, Original Character (Jisoo – reader’s childhood friend)

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📖 Summary:

Reserved, logical, and emotionally guarded, Y/N never expected the campus heartbreaker to take interest in her. San wasn’t looking for anything real—until she became the one girl he couldn’t charm.

Masterlist

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Y/N never understood why people insisted that college was the best time of your life.

To her, university was something to survive — a meticulously calculated path to a stable career, free of distractions, social drama, and especially men who wore cologne strong enough to make your neurons short-circuit. That last category happened to fill most of her general education electives.

She wasn’t there to thrive. She was there to get through it.

The hallways of Seoul National’s pharmacy department were her sanctuary — organized, quiet, logical. Here, her obsession with structure and predictability wasn’t weird. It was respected or at least she had hoped that.

But the school required a handful of non-major classes to “round out” students’ education, which is how Y/N found herself in Interpersonal Communication 101, stuck in the back of a lecture hall with a half-dead highlighter, desperately trying to ignore the group of guys laughing near the front.

Loud guys.

Obnoxiously attractive guys.

“Bro, I swear she winked at you,” one of them said — the one with dimples and way too much energy for 9:00 a.m.

The one beside him, black baseball cap turned backward, just chuckled. “She winks at everyone.”

That voice.

Even without looking, Y/N knew exactly who it belonged to.

Choi San.

Campus heartthrob. Known for switching majors as often as he changed hair color. Rumored to have kissed a senior in the middle of a sociology presentation and gotten a B+ on the same project. Women loved him. Professors were charmed by him. Guys wanted to be him. And he never sat in the same seat twice.

Y/N had learned that by accident.

It wasn’t that she cared.

She just liked routine. And unfortunately, he was allergic to it.

Today, he slid into the empty chair two seats beside her with a loud yawn, stretching his arms overhead like he hadn’t kept half the dorm awake with late-night karaoke.

Y/N flipped her page and pretended not to notice.

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The professor cleared his throat. “All right, class. We’re starting our semester project today. Everyone’s going to work in pairs.”

Y/N blinked.

Pairs?

The word made her stomach twist.

She was used to working alone — methodical, precise, efficient. Group work meant compromise. Delay. Stress.

The professor continued. “You’ll be randomly assigned. This isn’t optional — part of the point is learning to navigate different personalities.”

Y/N groaned inwardly. She could already feel the migraine forming.

“Your names are on the sheet here,” he added, holding up a printed list before handing it off to a TA.

She tried not to panic. She really did.

But the universe clearly hated her today, because two minutes later, the girl sitting beside her peeked over and whispered, “Hey, you’re with… San?”

Y/N froze. “San?”

“Choi San,” the girl confirmed. “Lucky you.”

She blinked, slowly turning toward the front.

San was already looking at her — and smirking.

She gathered her things quickly and approached him at the front of the room. The professor was still talking, but her heart was pounding too loudly to hear it.

San looked up as she neared, tilting his head. “Y/N, right?”

Her throat caught. “How do you…?”

“I remember names.” His voice was smooth. Teasing. He leaned back in his seat like this was just another game. “You always sit two rows behind me. Except Wednesdays, when you come in late and grab the aisle.”

She stared.

Was he serious?

“You... notice where I sit?”

“You have that giant navy-blue backpack with the anime pins. Hard to miss.”

Her face flushed. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

He smiled. “Didn’t say it did.”

Y/N glanced around. Students were pairing up, chatting, laughing.

She turned back to him. “Look, let’s just agree on a schedule, get the project done, and stay out of each other’s way.”

San raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Wow. You don’t like me already, huh?”

“I don’t know you,” she corrected sharply. “And I don’t need to.”

Instead of being offended, San grinned. “You’re interesting.”

“I’m not.”

“See? That’s the kind of thing interesting people say.”

They exchanged contact info — her notes were neatly bullet-pointed in her planner, while San handed her his phone already open to a blank contact screen.

She typed in her number carefully. No emojis. No nickname.

“Do you always look like you’re solving a math equation when you type?” he asked.

“I like precision.”

“You’re a pharmacy major, right?”

She paused. “…How do you know that?”

San gave her a look. “I might’ve asked around.”

She stared at him.

He didn’t blink.

“Why?” she asked.

He shrugged, eyes crinkling. “You seemed interesting.”

She was beginning to really hate that word.

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That night, she got a text.

[Unknown Number]: “Hi, partner 😊 This is San. Let me know when you’re free to meet — I promise I can be focused. Kind of.”

Y/N stared at it for a full minute.

Then replied.

[You]: “Tomorrow at 4 in the library. No distractions.”

[San]: “So serious. I’ll bring snacks 🍪”

She didn’t respond.

But she didn’t delete the message either.

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The next afternoon, San actually showed up.

On time.

With snacks.

Y/N had expected him to flake, or worse — flirt. But instead, he sat down across from her and looked almost like a real student.

She laid out her notes. San pulled out a notebook that had maybe four words written in it.

“You don’t take notes?” she asked.

“I take pictures of the slides,” he said. “My brain doesn’t like bullet points.”

She sighed. “We’ll start from the top. I already outlined the assignment objectives.”

He watched her carefully, chin resting in his palm.

“You talk like a textbook,” he said after a while.

“You act like one never touched you,” she shot back without looking up.

San laughed. Loudly.

A few students turned to stare.

Y/N’s ears went red. “Can you not?”

“That was the most savage thing anyone’s ever said to me in a library.”

“Then your friends must be too nice.”

He leaned in, voice dropping a little. “You think about me often?”

She looked up, narrowing her eyes. “I think about finishing this project. You just happen to be the obstacle.”

San whistled lowly. “You’re good.”

“I’m efficient.”

He smirked. “You’re cute when you’re irritated.”

Y/N opened her mouth, then closed it again.

She hated how flustered she felt.

He noticed.

Of course he noticed.

“Tomorrow? Same time?” he asked, already packing up his untouched notebook.

She exhaled slowly. “…Fine.”

San paused. “Hey.”

She glanced up.

He smiled — soft this time. “Thanks for not judging me.”

She blinked, caught off guard.

“I’m not here to judge,” she said.

He winked. “We’ll see about that.”

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The sound of the dorm door slamming behind San echoed through the hallway.

“Bro,” Wooyoung called from the kitchen, “you’re actually back before midnight? Who are you and what have you done with our roommate?”

San dropped his backpack onto the couch. “I had a study session.”

Yeosang peered over the back of the couch. “You? Studying? That’s a plot twist.”

“Did you get her number too?” Seonghwa asked, barely looking up from the book he was annotating.

San raised an eyebrow. “We’re literally project partners.”

“Doesn’t answer the question,” Yunho said with a grin, throwing a chip at him.

San caught it in mid-air and ate it. “She gave me her number… professionally.”

“Ohhh,” the others chorused.

“It’s not like that,” San muttered, walking past them toward the fridge.

“So it’s not like the last three ‘study sessions’ you had this semester?” Jongho called.

San paused, bottle of water in hand. “Y/N’s different.”

They all looked up.

That was a word San didn’t use lightly.

“She’s… like, really smart. Organized. Kinda blunt,” he added. “She doesn’t care about social stuff. Or me.”

“That last one’s gotta sting,” Wooyoung smirked.

“It’s weird. Everyone else plays the game. She doesn’t,” San said, more to himself.

Hongjoong, who’d just walked in from his room, threw his bag down and narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Y/N? Like… the one everyone says is scary?”

San blinked. “She’s not scary.”

“Just quiet,” Seonghwa offered.

“And kind of intense,” Yeosang added.

“And maybe a little judgy,” Wooyoung grinned.

San shook his head. “She’s just focused. People don’t get her.”

“But you do?” Yunho asked, half-teasing.

“I want to,” San admitted before realizing how it sounded.

Everyone stared.

He cleared his throat. “We have another session tomorrow. So… yeah.”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung echoed, smirking. “Totally professional.”

The next afternoon, Y/N sat under a tree outside the library, a large pharmacology textbook open in her lap. San spotted her from a distance — headphones on, hoodie up, pen tapping lightly against her page.

She didn’t notice him until his shadow blocked the sun.

Her head tilted up, brows furrowing. “You’re early.”

San grinned. “Didn’t want to be late.”

Y/N pulled out her planner. “I bookmarked the sections we need to review. I’ve also outlined possible project frameworks.”

He sat beside her. “Do you ever just… chill?”

She blinked. “This is me chilling.”

He laughed, fully leaning back in the grass beside her.

“You’re gonna crease your notes,” he warned.

“I made a copy,” she replied without missing a beat.

San turned his head to look at her. “Do you always assume people underestimate you?”

“No,” she said quietly. “I assume they don’t care enough to try.”

He was silent.

She glanced up. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Just… that was honest.”

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Don’t be.” His voice was softer than usual. “I liked it.”

Inside the library, they sat in a tucked-away study corner. San kept glancing at her over the edge of his laptop, watching the way she chewed on her pen cap when she concentrated.

The way she didn’t fidget when things went quiet.

The way she spoke so clearly — like every word had been edited in her head before being said.

She caught him staring.

“What?”

He shrugged. “You really don’t care what people think, huh?”

Y/N hesitated. “People already think what they want. Trying to change that takes too much energy.”

He tilted his head. “People say you’re cold.”

“People say you’re a slut.”

Her words hit him square in the chest.

She immediately looked down. “Sorry. That was harsh.”

San just… blinked.

Then he laughed — full and real.

“Okay, ouch, but also fair.”

Y/N looked up, confused.

“You’re not wrong,” he said, still chuckling. “But you didn’t say it like an insult. Just… fact.”

“It is,” she said. “And mine’s a fact too. You think I don’t hear what people say about me?”

He looked at her, suddenly serious. “They’re wrong.”

“I don’t care.”

“I think you do.”

Y/N didn’t reply.

San leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Why do you pretend to be colder than you are?”

She met his eyes. “Why do you pretend to be less serious than you are?”

He froze.

No smile. No teasing comeback.

Just a heartbeat of shared stillness.

Then someone across the aisle hissed, “Look, that’s her. The one who never talks to anyone.”

San looked over.

A group of girls were whispering.

“She’s so rude. She ignored me in lab last week.”

“She acts like she’s better than everyone.”

San frowned.

Y/N’s expression didn’t change, but her hands clenched in her lap.

He stood up.

“Hey,” he said to the group. “Keep it down. Some of us are trying to study.”

The girls blinked.

San turned back to Y/N, grabbing his backpack. “Let’s go.”

She followed without a word.

Outside the library, she finally spoke.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

“I’m used to it.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay.”

She looked down. “People judge what they don’t understand.”

San exhaled. “Yeah. They do.”

They walked in silence.

Until she asked, “Why did you defend me?”

He gave a small smile. “Because I’m starting to understand you.”

She stopped walking.

San stopped too.

Y/N stared at him. “You don’t even know me.”

“I’m trying,” he said, voice low. “Isn’t that more than most?”

She didn’t answer. But her silence wasn’t cold — just uncertain.

San smiled. “I’ll text you later?”

She gave a small nod.

As she turned away, he called, “Hey.”

She looked back.

“You’re not cold,” he said. “You’re just… hard to read. And some of us like a challenge.”

She rolled her eyes.

But this time, she was smiling.

That night, San lay on his bed, phone open to their message thread.

No new texts. But the old ones made him grin.

His door creaked open. Yeosang poked his head in. “So? How’d it go with your ice queen?”

San threw a pillow at him.

“She’s not cold,” he said.

“No?” Wooyoung said from the hallway. “Then why are you suddenly warm all the time?”

San ignored them, flipping back to the photo he’d secretly taken of their notes side-by-side.

One line from her planner stood out.

“Control what you can. Accept what you can’t.”

He stared at it for a long time.

And for the first time in months, San wasn’t interested in chasing anyone else.

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San wasn’t used to feeling… second.

He wasn’t even sure that was the right word. But whatever it was, it didn’t feel good.

From the edge of the courtyard, he spotted Y/N standing by the fountain, talking to someone he didn’t recognize — tall, broad-shouldered, sharp jawline. The guy was dressed in athletic gear, logo of the Seoul Tigers stitched onto his jacket sleeve. San recognized it instantly: professional volleyball team. Big deal.

But what really caught San’s attention wasn’t the team logo.

It was the way Y/N smiled.

Not the tight-lipped, polite smile she usually gave in class. Not the quick, practiced smirk she used when San made a joke.

This smile was effortless.

Real.

He hadn’t seen that one before.

San stayed in the shade of the trees, watching without meaning to.

The guy leaned in and said something that made Y/N laugh. Her hand came up to lightly tap his chest — casual, familiar. He flicked her forehead, and she rolled her eyes, still smiling.

It hit San harder than he expected.

“You okay?”

San blinked. Yunho had come up beside him, holding a bag of convenience store snacks and raising a curious brow.

“Yeah,” San muttered, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket.

“You’re staring.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are. Hard.”

San looked away. “She’s just with someone.”

“Jisoo?” Yunho asked. “The volleyball guy?”

San’s jaw tensed.

Yunho whistled under his breath. “Damn. He’s, like, model-tier.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” San said flatly.

Yunho laughed, unwrapping a rice cake. “Well, I did. Your girl’s got taste.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“Right,” Yunho said, not bothering to hide the grin.

San watched a moment longer, then muttered, “I’m going back to the dorm.”

Yunho raised a brow. “You’re not gonna say hi?”

“No point,” San said. “She already looks happy.”

Later, at the dorm, San flopped onto the couch and pulled a blanket over his head.

“Drama queen,” Wooyoung said, poking his leg with a water bottle. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“He’s sulking,” Yeosang said from the kitchen. “Like a kicked puppy.”

“I’m fine,” San grumbled under the blanket.

Hongjoong looked up from his laptop. “Is this about Y/N?”

No answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.

“She was with Jisoo,” Yunho explained, dropping onto the couch. “They seemed… close.”

“Who’s Jisoo?” Seonghwa asked.

“Childhood friend,” Yunho replied. “Pro athlete. Basically a K-drama male lead.”

“Ohhh,” the room chorused.

Wooyoung smirked. “So our San is… jealous?”

San groaned from under the blanket. “I’m not jealous.”

“Then why’d you come back early?” Seonghwa asked.

“I didn’t feel like being there.”

“You were literally hiding behind a tree,” Yunho said.

San sat up, hair messy and face flushed. “Shut up.”

Wooyoung leaned in. “Aw, look at him. Flustered.”

“Stop teasing him,” Seonghwa said gently. “Feelings are weird.”

“I don’t have feelings,” San said too quickly.

Silence.

Then Yeosang, deadpan: “Liar.”

San sank back into the cushions with a defeated sigh.

At their next scheduled study session, Y/N was already at the table when San arrived.

She greeted him with a quiet nod and didn’t mention Jisoo.

San sat across from her, pulling out his notebook.

The silence stretched a little longer than usual.

He glanced up.

Y/N looked tired — not in the dark-circle way, but like someone carrying something heavy internally.

“You okay?” he asked before he could stop himself.

She blinked. “I’m fine.”

He nodded. “Cool.”

Back to silence.

They worked without talking for a while — pages turned, pens scratched, screens glowed, until San closed his notebook and glanced over at her.

“So… that guy yesterday,” he said casually, pretending to stretch. “The one by the fountain.”

Y/N looked up. “Jisoo?”

San nodded, keeping his expression neutral. “You two seemed close.”

She blinked. “He’s a childhood friend.”

San hummed, tapping his pen on the table. “Is he studying here now?”

“No. He’s just visiting. He plays for the Seoul Tigers.”

San gave a low whistle. “Big deal.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly. “Why are you asking?”

He shrugged, eyes still on his pen. “Just curious.”

There was a pause.

“Do you always ask about people I talk to?” she asked, not in a defensive tone — just genuinely puzzled.

San froze for a split second, then recovered. “No. I just hadn’t seen you smile like that before.”

Her brows drew together. “Like what?”

“Like you were… comfortable.”

Y/N sat back in her chair. “We grew up together. That’s all it is.”

San didn’t respond right away. Then quietly: “Right.”

She watched him for a moment, but when it was clear he wasn’t going to say more, she returned to her notes.

He stared at the corner of his page, pen motionless in his hand, wondering what the hell he was feeling — and why it wouldn’t go away.

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San didn’t even want to go to the party.

But Wooyoung had dragged him out anyway — practically pulled him out of his hoodie and shoved him into a nicer shirt.

“It’ll get your mind off her,” Wooyoung had said, handing him a soda as they stepped into the neon-hazed chaos of the house party.

“I’m not thinking about anyone,” San had mumbled in return.

Now, thirty minutes in, San stood in the corner of a sweaty living room, clutching a lukewarm drink, eyes scanning the room like he was looking for a fire escape. Music thumped through the floorboards, lights pulsed red and blue, and people pressed too close, laughing and spilling drinks.

He felt out of place. Restless.

Not because the party was bad — it was the same as always. Same crowd. Same playlist. Same Wooyoung dancing in the middle of the room like he owned it.

No, San felt wrong because she wasn’t here.

And worse — she wouldn’t have come, even if he’d asked.

He didn’t notice the girl until she stepped into his line of sight.

Cute. Wavy hair. Confident smile. The kind of person who knew how to own her space.

“Hey,” she said, tipping her cup toward him. “You’re San, right?”

He nodded.

“Pharmacy building’s pretty far from music,” she continued. “But I’ve seen you around.”

He blinked. “How would you—”

“You’re the guy who always brings cold brew into 8 a.m. classes.”

Ah. That tracked.

She smiled again. “Want to dance?”

He hesitated.

But then something bitter bubbled up inside him — frustration, jealousy, the ache of being ignored, overlooked, unwanted.

He nodded and followed her onto the makeshift dance floor.

The music was loud, bodies swaying close.

The girl danced easily, drawing him in with playful glances and brushes of her fingers against his sleeve.

San moved with her, distracted and distant, his mind a hundred miles away. Every time she laughed, he thought of Y/N’s quieter chuckle. When she tugged him closer, he remembered how Y/N always sat just out of reach, even when they were alone.

He didn’t want this girl.

But he let her pull him into a quieter hallway anyway.

Her lips brushed against his.

They were warm. Soft.

But wrong.

So wrong.

San froze.

The girl leaned in again, but this time he gently caught her wrist and stepped back.

“Sorry,” he said, voice rough. “I… can’t.”

She looked surprised. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, guilt already weighing heavy in his chest. “No. You’re great. It’s not you.”

“Then what is it?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Then sighed. “I just can’t stop thinking about someone else.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his chest. “Fair enough.”

San walked home alone in the cold night air.

The streets were mostly empty, save for the occasional passing car. His jacket wasn’t thick enough, and the wind stung his face, but he barely noticed.

All he could think about was how miserable it had felt to kiss someone who wasn’t her.

Back at the dorm, the lights were low. Most of the others had either gone to sleep or stayed out later. Only Seonghwa was awake, sitting in the kitchen, flipping through a book.

San dropped onto a chair across from him and buried his face in his arms.

“Didn’t go well?” Seonghwa asked softly.

San groaned. “It was a disaster.”

Seonghwa waited.

“I kissed someone,” San mumbled.

Silence.

“Okay,” Seonghwa said slowly. “And? Isn’t that like normal for you?”

“And I couldn’t do it,” San admitted. “I stopped. I walked out.”

Seonghwa set his book down. “Because of Y/N?”

San didn’t answer, which was an answer.

Seonghwa nodded. “You like her.”

“I don’t even know what that means anymore,” San muttered.

“It means you like her.”

“But she’s… She’s quiet. She doesn’t let anyone in.”

“She let you in.”

San hesitated.

“You’ve been the only one who’s seen her, really seen her,” Seonghwa said gently. “You think that’s nothing?”

San stared at the table.

“I don’t know if she feels the same,” he whispered.

“Then talk to her,” Seonghwa replied. “Or don’t. But don’t pretend this is casual anymore.”

Meanwhile, across the city, Y/N sat in a quiet café with Jisoo.

He’d found her after her pharmacy lab, insisting on catching up before he returned to training.

They sipped tea in silence for a while. Jisoo was always like that — unhurried, content to sit with the quiet.

Then, out of nowhere, he said, “You seem distracted lately.”

She blinked. “Do I?“

Jisoo just looked at her.

She bit her lip. “I guess I’m just tired.”

Jisoo tilted his head. “Is it about someone?”

Y/N hesitated.

“Your study partner, maybe?”

She shot him a startled glance.

Jisoo laughed. “You talk about him. Not often. But when you do, your voice changes.”

Y/N flushed. “It’s not like that.”

“I didn’t say it was,” Jisoo said kindly. “But you seem… unsure. Like you’re afraid to want something.”

She looked down at her cup. “He’s not like me.”

“Meaning?”

“He’s loud. Confident. People like him.”

Jisoo smiled softly. “So?”

“So I’m not that kind of person.”

He took a sip of tea. “You’re kind. Smart. Funny, even if no one sees it. If he doesn’t see that, he’s the one who’s not enough.”

Y/N looked up at him.

“Do you like him?” he asked.

She didn’t answer.

Jisoo didn’t push. He just smiled and said, “I hope you find someone who makes you feel like being yourself is enough. And I hope you will let that person in.”

Back at the dorm, San sat on his bed, headphones in, scrolling through old photos on his phone.

He had a few saved from group study sessions. A blurry one of Y/N tucking her hair behind her ear. Another of her glancing up with wide eyes mid-note.

He’d never had the courage to send them to her.

He didn’t even know why he’d taken them.

His phone buzzed.

A message from Wooyoung: “You alive?”

San typed back: “Barely.”

Then paused.

And added: “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

The typing bubble appeared.

“100%. But a love-sick one.”

San groaned.

Then typed a new message.

To her.

[San]: Are you free tomorrow?

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Y/N stared at the message when it came in.

She’d been curled in bed, reading over her chemistry notes, trying to block out the conversation she’d had with Jisoo.

She reread it twice.

It was simple.

Still, she didn’t answer right away.

Not because she didn’t want to.

But because she didn’t know if it would be really okay to hang out with him.

Y/N wasn’t sure why she agreed to hang out.

San had framed it vaguely. Something about relaxing. Something about a reward for finishing their latest round of project drafts early. Her initial instinct was to decline, as usual, but San had asked with that persistent glint in his eyes. The one that told her he wasn’t going to beg, but would probably annoy her about it until she said yes.

„Just a few hours,“ he’d said. „You need fresh air. You’re starting to look like a locked-in alchemist.“

That line alone had made her snort.

Now she stood stiffly outside a noisy arcade and convenience plaza in Hongdae, watching San jog over, hands shoved in his hoodie, looking a little too pleased with himself.

„You didn’t tell me this would involve other people,“ she said flatly.

San grinned, unbothered. „Surprise.“

„I don’t like surprises.“

„Yeah, I figured,“ he said. „But I think you’ll like them. My friends are cool. Loud. But cool.“

Before she could protest, a cluster of guys waved from across the pavement. Seven of them, to be precise.

San gestured. „Come on. You’re already here.“

She rolled her eyes but followed.

„So *this* is the mysterious pharmacy major,“ said Wooyoung, eyeing her with a teasing smirk.

„She’s got a vibe,“ Yeosang added, nudging his glasses up.

„I didn’t know San knew how to be friends with someone so quiet,“ Hongjoong remarked, genuinely curious.

Y/N crossed her arms. „I didn’t know San knew how to be friends with women, period.“

The table of guys burst out laughing. Even Jongho let out a low chuckle.

San looked slightly betrayed. „I’ll have you know I’m very supportive of women.“

„You��re supportive of flirting with them,“ Y/N deadpanned.

Wooyoung cackled. „I like her. She’s terrifying.“

„She’s honest,“ Seonghwa said, amused. „It’s refreshing.“

„She’s blunt as hell,“ Yunho muttered, watching her curiously.

Y/N didn’t try to soften the impression she gave. They could take her or leave her. She wasn’t here to charm anyone. She was here because San wouldn’t shut up until she agreed.

Still, she found the group dynamic surprisingly tolerable. Even… interesting. There was a natural rhythm between them. Chaos, sure, but grounded chaos. They all treated San like he was both their favorite and most exhausting sibling.

And San, in return, was… different around them.

A little softer. A little less performative. Less flirt, more friend.

It unsettled her in a way she couldn’t articulate.

They ended up playing a few arcade games. Y/N didn’t care for the noise, but there was a certain joy in watching Wooyoung yell in disbelief as she casually beat him at a rhythm game on her first try.

„You’re a menace,“ he gasped.

„You just suck,“ she replied simply.

San was laughing behind her, head tilted back, eyes crinkled.

„I told you she’d humble you,“ he said, nudging Wooyoung.

„I didn’t know she’d eviscerate me.“

„She’s like that all the time,“ San replied, fondly.

Y/N glanced at him. That tone again. Like he wasn’t talking about a classmate. Like she was something… closer.

She looked away.

Later, they all sat near the street food vendors, eating snacks and talking over one another.

Y/N picked at her tteokbokki quietly. Listening. Letting their energy pass over her like a tide.

„Y/N?“

She looked up to see a tall figure approaching.

„Jisoo?“

He grinned. „Wow. Didn’t think I would see you here.“

She stood up slightly. „Didn’t know you were on this side of town.“

„Practice let out early. And I’m starving.“

The guys fell into a subtle hush, observing the interaction.

„You can sit if you want,“ Y/N said.

San blinked.

Jisoo sat beside her with a nod to the others. „I’m Jisoo. Old friend.“

„We’re San’s friends,“ Mingi offered. „Well, technically his babysitters.“

That got a few chuckles.

„Y/N and I used to live down the street from each other,“ Jisoo explained. „She was always reading manga under the slide while everyone else played soccer.“

Y/N nodded. „Still do. Just indoors now.“

Jisoo smirked. „She used to threaten to hex people with her chemistry kits.“

„Only you,“ she corrected.

„Still counts.“

San was quiet. Watching. An unfamiliar tension pulled at his jaw.

The ease between them grated on him. That Jisoo had known her first. That he could talk about her like a permanent fixture. That she smiled more during this ten-minute exchange than she had all afternoon.

He hated how much it bothered him.

When Jisoo left, the dynamic shifted.

Y/N went back to quiet, but it was a thoughtful quiet.

San, for once, didn’t speak much. He kept his hands in his hoodie pocket. Kept glancing at her when she wasn’t looking.

Hongjoong noticed. Raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Later, when the group dispersed and it was just the two of them walking back toward the station, Y/N finally broke the silence.

„You’re weird today.“

San didn’t look at her. „Am I?“

„You keep sulking. You didn’t even make fun of Wooyoung’s reaction time.“

„Maybe I’m just tired.“

„Or jealous.“

He stopped.

She turned to face him. Calm. Unbothered. But her eyes searched his face.

He swallowed. „Of what?“

„I don’t know,“ she said plainly. „You tell me.“

He held her gaze for a beat longer, then looked away.

They stood like that for a few seconds too long.

Then she started walking again.

He followed.

That night, Y/N lay awake, staring at her ceiling.

She wasn’t sure what to make of today.

The guys weren’t awful. San was… weird. Not in a bad way. Just less obnoxious than usual. Quieter.

Maybe she threw him off. Maybe Jisoo did.

Either way, she couldn’t stop thinking about the look on his face when she’d teased him about being jealous.

He hadn’t denied it.

Not really.

At the same time, San was pacing his room.

Wooyoung, stretched on the bed, was scrolling through his phone lazily.

„You gonna say something or just walk holes into the floor?“

„She invited him to sit.“

„Who?“

„That guy. Jisoo. The one who knows her manga preferences.“

Wooyoung looked up. „Oh, you’re spiraling.“

„I’m not spiraling.“

„You’re emotionally imploding. Which is cute, honestly.“

San groaned.

„Dude. Just admit it. You like her. A lot.“

„She doesn’t even like people.“

„Yeah, and yet she spent all day with us for *you.* That means something.“

San sat on the edge of the bed.

„I think I messed up.“

„Nah. You’re just not used to having feelings that aren’t ego-driven.“

San threw a pillow at him.

Wooyoung ducked. „Text her.“

San considered it.

Then didn’t.

°•°°°••••°°♡•••°°°°°°°•••••♡°°•°°•°°°°°♡•••

Y/N hated rain.

Not for the poetic reasons most people did. Not because it was lonely or moody or reflected some deep metaphor about emotion.

She just hated being wet. She hated soggy clothes, squeaky shoes, and the way her hoodie clung to her arms like a soggy second skin. And she especially hated that she’d stayed late in the lab, missed the last bus, and was now standing under a flickering awning as the Seoul sky dumped buckets of cold water. And to top it all she lost her keys and her grandparents are out of town.

Miserable didn’t begin to cover it.

Her fingers were pale and stiff as she tried to text her grandparents that she was fine. She was used to doing everything alone — the commute, the workload, the errands — but today had pushed her limits.

Then she heard the umbrella.

“Seriously?” a voice called out through the downpour. “You don’t own a single raincoat?”

Y/N turned her head.

Choi San. Hoodie, joggers, sneakers soaked at the toes. Holding an umbrella large enough for two.

“I’m fine,” she said flatly.

“You look like a drowned cat.”

“Again. Fine.”

He ignored that and stepped closer, tilting the umbrella over her without asking.

“I saw you leaving the building while I was walking Wooyoung’s laundry over,” he explained. “He’s too good for wet socks, apparently.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, cheerful despite the cold.

Twenty minutes later, she was at his dorm.

His room was neater than expected — spare, with soft lighting and a few posters, a desk piled with unread textbooks, and one rogue dumbbell by the bed. He handed her an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, then pointed her toward the small attached bathroom.

“Dryer’s on already,” he said.

Y/N changed in silence, grateful for the warm fabric. The hoodie swallowed her frame. It smelled like citrus shampoo and something deeper — like cedarwood and warmth. She tried not to think about it.

When she came out, San was toweling his hair dry. Shirtless.

She blinked. Once. Then turned and made a beeline for the bed, sitting stiffly on the edge. Not trying to think about his abs.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“You’re very ‘fine’ today.”

She folded her arms.

He tossed the towel aside, sat on the floor, and leaned against the bed with a heavy extrying. I tried not to stare at his bare stomache. “It was kind of cool seeing you lose your composure, you know.”

I blinked. “I didn’t lose composure.”

“You were frozen. You looked like you’d slap me if I touched you.”

“You looked… distractingly shirtless.”

That made him pause.

“You think I’m distracting?” he grinned, tilting his head.

“I think I was cold and tired and not in the mood for your abs,” she said, perfectly deadpan.

He snorted. “You are seriously something else.”

Elsewhere, the dorm was alive with noise.

“Where’s San?” Yunho asked, carrying snacks into the living room.

“Probably still sulking,” Mingi offered.

“Or trying to impress pharmacy girl,” Yeosang muttered, not looking up from his laptop.

“Y/N,” Wooyoung corrected. “She has a name.”

“She also scares you.”

“She beat me at rhythm games and roasted my ego. That’s fair.”

“I like her,” Seonghwa added. “She’s straightforward.”

“I think San’s in trouble,” Hongjoong said, voice thoughtful.

Jongho raised a brow. “Why?”

“Because I’ve never seen him act like this about anyone.”

San stretched out on the floor, eyes on the ceiling.

“I was thinking,” he said quietly.

“Dangerous.”

“Do you always deflect when people care about you?”

Y/N tensed.

He didn’t push. Just waited.

Finally, she said, “I don’t like assuming people mean things they don’t.”

“Do you think I’m pretending to care?”

“You don’t even know me.”

He sat up slowly. “I know you read medical case studies for fun. I know you pretend to hate everyone, but you stayed the whole day with my friends even though it drained you. I know you eat strawberry pocky when you’re anxious and you triple-check every experiment before you start. I know you’re lonely, and you don’t know how to let people in.”

Silence.

“You’re wrong about the pocky,” she said quietly.

He smiled.

°•°°°••••°°♡•••°°°°°°°•••••♡°°•°°•°°°°°♡•••

The next day, she met Jisoo for coffee.

He raised an eyebrow when he saw her. “You look different.”

“I got caught in the rain,” she said. “San helped.”

“San,” he repeated. “That the guy from the arcade, your study partner ?”

“He’s irritating,” she muttered, stirring her tea.

“Irritating?”

“He doesn’t give up. Most people would.”

Jisoo leaned back. “And that bothers you?”

“I don’t know what he wants.”

“Maybe he just wants you to stop pushing him away.”

She was quiet for a long moment.

“I don’t get him,” she said finally.

“Maybe you’re not supposed to. Maybe you’re supposed to accept his feelings.”

“That’s worse.”

Jisoo laughed.

Later that night, San stood in the dorm kitchen, fiddling with the water kettle. His mind had been racing since Y/N left that afternoon — she’d smiled a little more. Teased him a little more. Still blunt, still unreadable… but somehow different.

He didn’t notice Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong walk in.

“You good?” Seonghwa asked.

San blinked. “Yeah. No. I don’t know.”

“Spit it out.”

San turned, towel slung over his shoulder, eyes distant.

“I think I’m falling for her.”

Wooyoung choked on his soda. “What?”

“I’m serious.”

“You sure?” Seonghwa said gently.

“I know enough. She’s different. She’s not trying to impress anyone. She doesn’t care who I am. She’s blunt and kind and… intriguing.”

Hongjoong leaned against the counter. “Do you think she likes you back?”

“I don’t know,” San admitted. “She looks at me like she’s trying to solve a puzzle.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“Then don’t rush it,” Seonghwa said. “Let it grow.”

Meanwhile, Y/N lay in bed replaying every second of the day.

San in the rain. San offering his hoodie. San shirtless and smiling like he had nothing to hide.

Her pulse jumped just remembering it.

And the way he looked at her — not like a challenge, not like someone to conquer, but like someone worth knowing.

She hated how much it made her ache. So she decided to distract herself.

Y/N had never been good at parties.

The noise, the forced conversations, the social expectations—it was all exhausting. She had only agreed to join Jisoo and a few of his teammates because he practically begged her after their midterms. „Come on, just one night. You deserve a break,“ he had said, nudging her phone out of her hands.

Now, sitting stiffly at a round table in a private room of a barbecue place near campus, she regretted every decision that led to this point.

Beer bottles clinked. Laughter roared around her. Someone was shouting about chicken gizzards and sauce ratios. She stared at the amber liquid in her cup like it held the secrets of the universe.

„Y/N, you’ve barely touched your drink,“ Jisoo said, nudging her arm. He was already flushed, his easy smile a little looser than usual.

„It tastes like regret,“ she muttered.

Jisoo snorted. „One more sip. If you’re not having fun in fifteen minutes, we leave. Deal?“

She nodded. Deal.

A few sips turned into a few cups, and the buzz came on slowly. Warmth unfurling in her chest, dissolving the walls she usually kept so carefully built.

„Y/N, any romance in your life?“ one of Jisoo’s teammates called out, teasing.

She blinked. „What?“

„You’re always so serious. There’s gotta be someone making you blush.“

A few eyes turned to her, amused and curious. Y/N, still reserved but looser with alcohol, let out a small laugh.

„There might be… an idiot.“

„Oooh,“ they chorused. „Tell us!“

She swirled her drink. „He’s annoying. Always teasing. Never shuts up.“

„Sounds awful.“

„He’s also kind. Way too kind. And he doesn’t know how to give up. He keeps showing up.“

Her cheeks were flushed now, but it wasn’t just the alcohol. She didn’t see Jisoo watching her carefully.

„Y/N,“ Jisoo said gently a few minutes later, after pulling her aside near the entrance. „Do you mean San?“

She groaned, hiding her face in her hands. „I don’t know what I mean. He’s like… some virus that won’t leave my system.“

„So you like him.“

„I think I do. I think I hate that I do.“

She hiccupped.

„Okay, that’s enough soju for you,“ Jisoo said.

A few minutes later, when she couldn’t find her keys, Jisoo did the only thing he could think of: he called San.

San showed up ten minutes later in joggers and a hoodie, hair still damp from a shower.

„She’s a little out of it,“ Jisoo explained.

„What happened?“

„Midterm stress. She needed to blow off steam. I didn’t think she’d drink that much.“

San nodded, then turned to Y/N. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, hood up, eyes sleepy but sharp when they found his face.

„I lost my keys,“ she muttered.

„I’ve got you,“ he said softly.

The ride to the dorm was quiet. Y/N’s head leaned against the window, her breath fogging up the glass.

San stole glances when the lights turned red. Her lashes fluttered. Her hands were tucked into his hoodie sleeves.

She looked small. And kind of heartbreakingly beautiful.

Back at the dorm, he guided her to his room, where she flopped onto the bed with a dramatic sigh.

„You’re weird,“ she mumbled.

He laughed. „You’re one to talk.“

She sat up suddenly, eyes focused on him like a laser.

„Why are you so nice to me?“

He blinked. „What do you mean?“

„You keep… trying. And I keep pushing. You’re a flirt. Everyone knows it. But you look at me like… like I matter. Why?“

Her voice cracked on the last word.

„Because you do,“ he said quietly.

Y/N stared at him for a long moment. Then she stood, wobbling slightly.

„I shouldn’t say this,“ she whispered, voice slurred, „but you make it really hard to hate you.“

And then she kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle. It was clumsy and uncoordinated and sudden. Her hands curled into his hoodie. Her lips were soft but demanding.

For a second, San kissed back. His mind went blank. Just her, her scent, her warmth.

Then he pulled back.

„Y/N,“ he said, breathless. „We can’t. Not like this.“

She blinked slowly, confused. „Why not?“

„Because you won’t remember. Because I want this to mean something.“

She swayed, and he caught her, gently guiding her back onto the bed.

„Sleep,“ he whispered.

She closed her eyes.

„San…“

He froze. But she didn’t say anything else. Just curled into his hoodie and drifted off.

Later that night, San sat in the kitchen, staring into a mug of tea.

Wooyoung padded in, rubbing his eyes. „You look like you’ve seen a ghost.“

„Y/N kissed me.“

That woke Woo up fast.

„She what?“

„She was drunk. I brought her back. She kissed me. And I stopped it.“

„Wow.“

„I think I’m in trouble.“

„Do you want her to kiss you when she’s sober?“

San looked down at the steam curling from the mug.

„Yeah.“

„Then wait for her.“

„I’m trying.“

In the morning, Y/N would wake up with a headache, a faint memory of warmth, and the scent of citrus and cedar still clinging to her.

Y/N pretended she didn’t remember.

When she woke up in San’s dorm the next morning, her head was pounding and her mouth tasted like regret. He had already left the room. The blanket over her had been neatly tucked, a water bottle placed beside her, and her phone charged. But she didn’t ask what happened.

And he didn’t tell her.

She just stood in the doorway with the borrowed hoodie still on her back and mumbled, “Thanks,” before slipping out of the dorm and out of the moment.

Like it had never happened.

Three days later, and San still hadn’t heard from her.

He’d waited for a message. A knock on his door. A sarcastic jab. Anything.

But there was nothing.

It was driving him insane.

“You’re pacing again,” Wooyoung said, tossing a chip into his mouth. “Stop before you wear out the floor.”

“She kissed me, Woo.”

“I know.”

“And now she’s pretending it didn’t happen.”

“Because she’s scared,” Seonghwa said, entering the living room. “She probably thinks it was a mistake.”

San scoffed. “It wasn’t a mistake.”

“You sure?” Yeosang quipped from the kitchen. “You’ve kissed half the campus.”

San turned. “And I’ve never once stopped a kiss before.”

Silence.

“Fair,” Jongho muttereDd.

The next morning, Y/N walked into class like nothing had happened.

She took her usual seat three rows from the front, opened her notes, and stared straight ahead. Her posture was perfect. Her hair was pinned back. Her expression was unreadable.

San sat two rows behind her, struggling to breathe.

He watched her scribble down formulas, the same way she always did — left margin, bullet points, perfect loops. Not even a glance in his direction.

When class ended, he stood quickly.

“Y/N,” he called, catching up to her outside the lecture hall.

She didn’t slow.

“Y/N.”

She turned. Her eyes were tired, sharp. “What?”

“We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You kissed me.”

“I was drunk.”

“So you do remember.”

Silence.

“I don’t see how it matters,” she said, voice clipped.

San’s jaw tightened. “It matters to me.”

She scoffed and took a step back. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because—” he stopped. “Because I do.”

“That’s not a reason, San. You care about everyone. You flirt with everyone. I’m not special.”

“Don’t say that.”

She looked at him then — really looked — and something flickered in her expression.

“I don’t belong in your world,” she said, loud enough for others to start turning their heads. “So stop acting like I do.”

Students paused as they walked by. A few slowed, sensing the tension.

San didn’t care.

“You think I care about that?” he said, his voice rising. “You think this is some game to me?”

Y/N stayed silent.

“I’ve never felt like this before, Y/N!” he shouted, hands clenching. “Not for anyone.”

People were definitely staring now.

“I can’t sleep, I can’t think straight, I can’t even kiss someone else without seeing your face!”

Her mouth parted slightly. Her cheeks flushed.

“I don’t care that you’re quiet, or blunt, or awkward, or that you pretend you don’t feel anything,” he said, softer now. “I see you. I like you. All of you.”

The air felt heavy.

Y/N blinked.

“I never wanted to fall for you,” he said. “But I did. And you can pretend you forgot, but I know you didn’t.”

And then he turned — and walked away, leaving everyone stunned.

°•°°°••••°°♡•••°°°°°°°•••••♡°°•°°•°°°°°♡•••

Later that evening, Y/N sat on the floor of her room, her notebook forgotten beside her.

She couldn’t get his voice out of her head.

I’ve never felt like this before.

I can’t sleep.

I see you.

He had said it in front of everyone. No hesitation. No fear.

And she had stood there like an idiot, letting him spill his heart while she said nothing.

Why?

Because she didn’t believe she deserved it?

Because she thought he’d grow bored?

Because she was terrified of being vulnerable?

Her hands trembled.

She had spent her whole life protecting herself. Avoiding emotion. Hiding behind logic and structure and silence.

But San hadn’t just seen through that — he’d embraced it.

Back at the dorm, San sat slouched on the couch, hoodie pulled over his head.

“You okay?” Wooyoung asked.

“No.”

“That was… a bold move.”

San sighed. “She’s going to hate me.”

“Or,” Seonghwa said, “she’s going to finally admit what she’s feeling.”

“Or she’s going to block me and change Cities.”

“You did what you had to,” Jongho offered. “No one else would’ve gotten through to her.”

That night, Y/N stared at her ceiling for hours.

And in the deepest, quietest part of her chest, something cracked.

Because maybe she hadn’t forgotten the kiss.

And maybe she didn’t want to.

°•°°°••••°°♡•••°°°°°°°•••••♡°°•°°•°°°°°♡•••

It had been almost a full day since San’s confession, and Y/N still hadn’t moved past the overwhelming ache in her chest.

She had done what she always did. Pretended nothing happened. Built her wall higher. Said nothing. And he, of all people, had laid himself bare in front of everyone.

„I’ve never felt like this before, Y/N.”

His voice kept replaying in her head like a broken record.

She wanted to run away from it. From the weight of his feelings. From the terrifying possibility that he meant it.

So when Jisoo texted her „You alive?“, she asked if they could talk. Really talk.

They sat on a low bench at their usual spot in a quiet corner of the university courtyard. It was overcast, the kind of gray sky that dulled the noise of the world.

Y/N hunched over, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands.

„You heard of it, didn’t you?“

Jisoo tilted his head. „You mean the part where Choi San poured his entire heart out in front of the chemistry department? Yeah, I caught it.“

She groaned and buried her face in her hands. „It was a mess.“

„Only for you. He looked like a drama lead having his main character moment.“

Y/N shot him a look. „Not helping.“

Jisoo softened. „Sorry. But what’s really going on?“

She was quiet for a long time. Then: „I don’t know how to do this.“

„Do what?“

„Open up. Let someone care about me. Especially someone like him.“

Jisoo exhaled. „Y/N, you’re one of the kindest people I know. So what if you’re quiet? So what if you don’t say things easily? You’re not broken. You’re just scared.“

„He kissed me. Or I kissed him. I don’t even know.“

„And?“

„And it felt real. Too real. So I pretended I didn’t remember.“

He gave her a flat look. „That’s cruel.“

„I know.“

„You need to talk to him.“

„He deserves better.“

„Maybe. But he chose you.“

That shut her up.

„And for what it’s worth,“ Jisoo added, nudging her shoulder, „I’ve never seen anyone get under your skin like this.“

She gave him a sideways glance. „You mean besides you.“

„Yeah, but I’m family. He’s… something else.“

Y/N looked down at her lap. Something else. That was exactly the problem.

San had been slamming weights harder than necessary for a full thirty minutes when he noticed someone enter the gym.

Jisoo.

He was in full warm-up gear, towel around his neck, earbuds in.

San tried to ignore him. Focus on his reps. Channel the chaos in his head.

But Jisoo approached anyway.

„You trying to break your back or something?“

San gave him a look. „Not now, man.“

„Tough day?“

San dropped the barbell and sat up. „Let me guess. You’re here to tell me to back off.“

Jisoo blinked. „Why would I do that?“

„ I know you and Y/N are close.“

Jisoo snorted. „Dude. She’s basically my sister.“

San hesitated. „Really?“

„Yes. Always has been. You think I’d let just anyone embarrass her in front of half the campus without punching them?“

San blinked. „So… you’re not mad?“

„I’m protective, not possessive. There’s a difference.“

San let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. „She’s been ignoring me.“

„She’s scared. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t care.“

San nodded slowly. „I just… don’t know what else to do.“

„You already did it. You told her. Now you wait. And trust her to come to you.“

That night, Y/N sat curled up in bed, clutching her phone.

She scrolled back through old messages.

San: don’t forget to eat

San: this professor is trying to kill us

San: don’t let them make you feel small

The texts had always seemed like noise at the time. Friendly check-ins. Annoying persistence.

But now, each one felt like a thread in a tapestry she had never bothered to look at closely.

She opened her photo gallery. Found the selfie he’d taken on her phone when she wasn’t looking. Cross-eyed, grinning. A stupid peace sign.

She smiled.

Her thumb hovered over the call button. Then dropped.

Instead, she stood. Changed. Grabbed her coat.

And walked.

When she reached the dorm, her heart was in her throat.

She hesitated in front of the building. The windows glowed softly against the night. Her fingers trembled as she rang the bell.

It took a minute, but the door opened.

Hongjoong blinked at her, surprised. „Y/N?“

She tried to smile. „Is San home?“

He nodded slowly. „Yeah. Come in.“

The dorm was quiet. A soft murmur of music came from one of the rooms.

Hongjoong gestured. „Second door on the right.“

She knocked.

Inside, San called, „Not now, Woo. I’m not in the mood.“

Y/N opened the door anyway.

San sat up in bed, hair messy, hoodie loose. His eyes widened.

„Y/N.“

She took a deep breath.

„I remember everything.“

San stared at her like he couldn’t believe she was real.

Y/N stood just inside his room, the door still slightly ajar behind her. Her voice lingered in the air: „I remember everything.“

She looked nervous, but not unsure. Her fingers fidgeted at her sides, but her eyes didn’t leave his.

„You do?“ he asked, voice soft.

She nodded. „All of it. The kiss. The way you looked at me. How you put me to bed and didn’t take advantage of the moment.“

San let out a shaky breath. „Then why have you been acting like it didn’t happen?“

Y/N stepped further in, closing the door gently behind her. „Because I was scared.“

„Of what?“

She swallowed hard. „Of what it means to fall for someone like you.“

San blinked. His heart kicked against his ribs.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands in her lap.

„I’ve never been in a relationship before,“ she admitted. „I always thought… it wasn’t for me. That I was too quiet. Too awkward. Too reserved.“

„You’re not too anything,“ he said immediately.

She smiled, just barely. „But you’re everything I thought I could never have. You’re loud and open and charismatic. Everyone notices you.“

She looked up at him. „And you noticed me.“

San didn’t say anything. He sat next to her instead, close but not touching.

Y/N exhaled. „I don’t know why you would fall for someone like me. I say the wrong things. I overthink. I push people away.“

„And you’re kind,“ he said quietly. „You listen. You care more than you let on. You’re honest when it counts, and you have this quiet strength that makes people underestimate you. But I see it. I see you.“

She blinked back something suspiciously wet in her eyes.

San reached over, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. „I fell for you because you’re real. Because you didn’t pretend to be anyone else around me. And because for the first time in my life, someone saw me too. Not Choi San, the flirt. Not the guy everyone expects things from. Just me.“

The silence between them pulsed with energy.

Then she leaned in.

And so did he.

When their lips met, it wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t experimental.

It was inevitable.

The kiss started soft. A breath shared, a heartbeat held.

San cupped her cheek like she might vanish if he didn’t hold her steady.

But Y/N’s hands curled into his hoodie, pulling him closer.

His lips parted, letting the kiss deepen, and a quiet sound escaped him—a low, unintentional moan that made her shiver.

He pulled back just slightly. „We don’t have to rush this.“

Her fingers tugged at the hem of his hoodie.

„I know,“ she whispered. „But I want to. With you.“

His eyes searched hers. „Are you sure?“

She nodded.

San kissed her again, slower now, savoring it. „I just want to do this right.“

„Then stop thinking,“ she murmured against his mouth. „And stay.“

That was all the permission he needed.

Clothes were shed between breathless kisses. Her skin felt like warmth and want beneath his fingertips. He touched her like she mattered. Like she was precious.

Because she was.

Y/N had never done this before, but it didn’t feel foreign. It felt like trust. Like discovery.

San took his time, even as she guided him with quiet urgency. The air between them was charged but gentle, desire wrapped in reverence.

When it happened, it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t perfect. But it was real.

And when he held her afterward, bodies tangled in soft sheets and half-whispers, she buried her face into his chest and sighed.

„I think I was falling for you from the beginning,“ she said.

San kissed the top of her head. „Then I’m glad I caught you.“

San lay awake, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting gently on Y/N’s bare shoulder. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a pale glow across her features.

She looked peaceful. Vulnerable. Real.

And his.

He couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t stop memorizing every detail. The way her lashes brushed her cheeks. The slight part in her lips. The steady rise and fall of her breathing.

He reached out and brushed his fingers gently along her jaw.

“You’re the one,” he whispered, barely audible. “I want to build something real with you.”

Then, ever so softly, he leaned in and kissed her forehead.

Careful not to wake her, he slid out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, and padded quietly into the hallway.

He made his way to the kitchen, intending to grab two glasses of water, but was greeted by all seven of his friends sitting at the table, wide awake.

„Well, well, well,“ Wooyoung said, wiggling his eyebrows.

„Look who finally emerged from the love cave,“ Jongho teased, sipping his coffee.

San blinked. „What are you guys even doing up?“

„You weren’t exactly subtle last night,“ Mingi muttered into his cereal.

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. „So? What happened?“

San grinned, cheeks red but smile unstoppable. „She’s my girlfriend . Officially.“

A round of groans and claps echoed across the table.

„Gross,“ Yeosang said, mock gagging.

Just then, a soft voice drifted down the hallway. „San…?“

San turned just as Y/N appeared at the edge of the kitchen entrance, one of his oversized t-shirts draped down to her thighs, bare legs peeking beneath. Her hair was tousled, eyes still sleepy.

All seven boys froze.

San’s eyes widened. He moved fast, practically lunging to block her from their view.

„Hey, hey, hey! No peeking! Go back to bed, I’ll bring you water,“ he said, flustered.

Y/N blinked. „Why is everyone awake?“

„Because fate is cruel,“ Seonghwa said, shielding his eyes.

San wrapped his arms around her protectively, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her cheek, then her temple, then her forehead. „Ignore them. You look perfect.“

„Oh my God,“ Wooyoung groaned. „Make it stop.“

„Seriously, can’t you wait until we’re not in the same room?“ Jongho muttered.

But San just smiled and kissed her again.

Y/N rolled her eyes but leaned into him, hiding her red face against his chest.

And for the first time in a long time, San felt completely, irreversibly happy.

#8 makes 1 team #ateez #ateez fanfic #atzblogging #ateez fanfiction #ateez fic #fanfction ateez #choi san #san fanfic #ateez san #san fanfiction #san x reader

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inside0ut-dotnet · 1 year ago

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myfictionaldreams · 2 days ago

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⁀➷ Tangled in Secrets // Azriel x F!Reader

Summary: In the heart of Velaris, you, Rhysand’s sister, are learning how to live again after years in the dark. But in the shadows, something tender — and forbidden — has been blooming. As tension turns to touch, one night threatens to unravel everything you’ve tried to keep hidden.

A/N: I've had this idea for so long and needed a little break from my lovely requests! I love the idea of Rhys' sister & Azriel being together. I hope you enjoy the read!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, forbidden romance, mutual pining, reference to torture/trauma/kidnapping, size difference/size kink, (Az has a big dick lmao), body worship, oral (f receiving), shadow play, wing play, fingering, rough sex, slight pain kink, aftercare

Words: 4.4 k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The music at Rita’s was louder than usual. Velaris was still celebrating. Weeks had passed since the last successful negotiation with the Winter Court, but the city was riding the wave of peace like a drunken high.

You didn’t care about peace treaties or politics. You cared about freedom. You cared about nights like this, where the shadows of your past didn’t cling quite so tightly to your bones, where your wings didn’t feel like heavy reminders of a war you never got to fight in, where you weren’t just Rhysands’ poor baby sister, the one who had been stolen, tortured and thought to be dead.

Everyone still treated you like that fragile girl—everyone except Azriel.

The Inner Circle had taken over their usual booth in Rita’s, all leather seats and cramped spaces, but not one of them would opt for somewhere else. The drinks were bottomless, the laughter rich, and the conversations casual. The shadows of war felt far away here.

But no matter how many weeks passed, how many times you reminded them you were fine, the same pattern always formed: Rhys hovered, Cassian fretted, Feyre watched you like she was waiting for you to scream.

And Azriel… Azriel watched you.

From across the room, glass untouched, shadows curling at his boots like smoke. He watched the way your lips curled when Mor whispered something naughty into your ear. He watched the sway of your hips as you danced, the gold dusting your collarbone, the arch of your neck when you tipped your head back and laughed–gods, it had taken you so long to laugh like that again.

You knew why Rhys acted the way he did, why even Amren softened her voice around you. Why Nesta continually glanced over, unreadable. Why Cassial still called you “Kid”, even though you were the same age as your cousin Mor?

They remembered you as a ghost. Because that’s what you had become, stolen all those years ago, taken during the attack on your mother by the Spring court, presumed dead. But unlike her, you hadn’t died. You’d been sent away. A trophy for King Hybern, locked beneath the palace, used for leverage that never came to light.

You spent years in darkness. With only pain as your companion to remind you that death had not welcomed you yet.

And then, when your brother found you, when you had burst free from that cell and Rhys had caught your fragile body, you weren’t a ghost anymore.

But they still treated you like one, except Azriel.

Even now, you felt the heat of his stare from across the bar, like a phantom hand at the small of your back. Watching you twirl and laugh between Mor and Feyre and Nesta, your hands entwined with theirs, hips swaying as the music throbbed through your blood.

You were glowing tonight. You knew it. And he saw it.

Gold dust shimmered over your bare shoulders. Your dress clung like silk to every curve Hybern hadn’t stolen from you. Your wings were hidden for now, folded into nothing, but the base of them itched when Az stared at you like that.

He stood in full leathers, motionless, the chaos of Rita’s parting around him like waves around a rock. Rhys was to his left, distracted by Feyre now whispering in his ear. Cassian was telling some exaggerated story to Nesta, who looked vaguely murderous. Even Amren was smirking into her glass of blood.

“Someone’s got it bad,” Mor teased in your ear, grinning wickedly as she spun you.

“Which one of them is she talking about?” Nesta deadpanned.

You laughed, twisting away, letting the beat pulse in your bones. Letting your hands trail down your sides, hair sticking to your neck, heat rising from the friction of your body and the heady tension in the air.

You felt his gaze with every movement. You wanted him to feel you.

“I should be drunker than this,” you muttered as the song changed again, a low, throbbing rhythm with no name.

“You could be,” Feyre offered with a mischievous smile, handing you something pink and fizzy. “Rhys isn’t watching now.”

You took a long sip, just enough to make your lips tingle.

“Still dancing with us?” Mor asked, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

You cast another glance across the room. Azriel hadn’t moved. Not one inch.

Your body answered before your mind did, hips twisting toward him, eyes narrowing, blood turning molten. And then you had an idea.

You stumbled.

Not hard, but enough to catch Feyre’s arms, laughing lightly as your foot slipped. “Oops,” you say, “Might’ve overdone it with that last drink.”

Mor’s eyes narrowed. “You’re faking.”

“Shh,” you whispered, leaning into her shoulder with an exaggerated put. “Just want to go home and be out of this dress.”

Nesta looked entirely unimpressed. “You’re baiting a bat.”

“I am the bats’ sister,” you reminded her, giggling.

Feyre’s brows arched. “Are you sure–?”

But he was already moving. Azriel crossed the room like a predator, shadows enveloping his frame as he strode past the others, ignoring the table, the drinks, and the conversations.

Straight. To. You.

You didn’t look up until he was there, towering over you, his scent hitting you further. Leather, cold air, and something smoky-sweet you could never name. His hand slid around your waist without hesitation, his body crowding yours, his voice a low rasp.

“She’s done for the night. Say goodnight, everyone.”

“I’m not done,” you mumble half-heartedly, resting your cheek on his chest like a lazy feline. “Just so dizzy.”

“She’s not drunk,” Nesta retorted drily.

But Azriel ignored her. “I’m taking her home.”

“See?” you whispered, brushing your lips over his collarbone as you leaned fully into him. “You always catch me.”

His jaw ticked. His hand was a brand on your waist. And when you looked up, and up, because even in heels he towered over you, you knew this was only the beginning because he wasn’t letting you go.

“Alright, what’s going on here?”

Rhys’s voice cut through the velvet haze of the lounge, soft but laced with the kind of brotherly concern that made the others go quiet.

You were draped against Azriel’s side now, cheek pressed against his chest like he was your pillow and not a living weapon. His shadows had curled subtly around your waist, invisible to all but you. It felt possessive. Protective.

You blinked up at your brother with your best innocent smile, slurring just a little. “I jus’ danced too much, Rhysie.”

Mor snorted quietly behind her drink.

“She’s drunk,” Azriel said smoothly, voice like silk and smoke, his large hand spread gently along your waist. “Too many of those pink things.”

Rhys’s violet gaze narrowed on you, scanning your face, then flicking to Az. “She’s not drunk-drunk, right? She didn’t shift her wings out midair again, did she?”

“She’s not that drunk,” Azriel replied, calm as ever. “But she should rest. I’ll take her home.”

“I could-”, Feyre started, but Az’s shadows tensed subtly. No one noticed except you.

“No, it’s fine,” Rhys said, looking at Azriel with quiet trust. “You’ll take her to the House of Wind?”

Az nodded once.

Rhys looked down at you again, his features softening with that familiar ache. “You sure you’re okay, little one?”

You pointed, reaching up to pinch his cheek lazily. “M’fine, Rhysie. Just tired. Az’s warm.”

Azriel’s jaw flexed almost imperceptibly. Behind Rhys, Cassian chuckled and whispered something to Nesta, who rolled her eyes.

“Alright,” Rhys said, still watching you like he might change his mind. “Make sure she gets home safe, brother.”

Azriel’s wings unfolded smoothly, cradling your body closer to his chest. You tucked your face in, humming contentedly as if you couldn’t feel the thunderstorm of his heartbeat against your cheek.

“You’ve got her?” Rhys asked once more, softer now.

Azriel didn’t even blink. “Always.”

Rhys gave one last nod, and the moment he turned away, Mor caught your eye and gave you a knowing smirk behind her drink. You bite your lip, hiding your smile against Azriel’s warm throat as he gathers you in his arms, shadows cloaking you both like a secret.

And then, with one girl sweet on his wings, the two of you vanished into the night sky.

The wind was cold, but Azriel’s chest was warm. You nestled against it as he flew, his arm secured under your thighs, the other braced along your back, wings beating steadily through the sky. You could feel the tension in him, not from the weight of you, but from something far heavier.

Desire, restraint, conflict.

Guilt.

He always carried it. He’d carried it from the moment he met you.

You hadn’t even been full-grown yet, barely out of girlhood, wings still clumsy and new. He remembered it clearly, even if he pretended not to, the way you peeked out from behind Rhys that first time, your gaze already too bright, too curious. You’d watched him like a puzzle you wanted to solve.

And he looked away. He always looked away.

Even when you laughed like starlight. Even when your training leathers hugged your hips and you sparred with Cassian until your cheeks were flushed and your chest heaved. Even when your power flared in rare, breathtaking flashes, born of your High Lord’s bloodline. Even when you began to smile at only him

He stayed one step back, always because you were Rhysands’ little sister, because you had been missing, tortured, kept like a shadow under Hybern’s mountain. Because when you came back, graceful but fierce, everyone - especially Rhys - treated you like glass.

And Azriel? Azriel couldn’t look at you without burning from the inside.

Still, when you pressed your face to his neck mid-flight and whispered his name, “Azriel,” he nearly dropped out of the sky,

He handed on the balcony of the House of Wind with more force than usual, boots cracking lightly against the stone. His hands cradled you, steady and careful, as if your body were breakable crystal instead of carved muscle and magic.

You tilted your head to look up at him, smirking faintly. “You’re tense.”

“You’re not drunk.”

You hummed, unbothered. “Caught me.”

He sighed and finally set you down, but his hands hovered like he didn’t want to let go. Or couldn’t.

You smiled, sharp and knowing. “So why did you play along?”

He didn’t meet your eyes. “Because you wanted me to.”

You stepped toward him. “And maybe because you wanted to touch me.”

That finally earned you a look—a dark, dangerous one.

“I’ve spent centuries not touching you.”

You faltered, just slightly. That confession struck between you like a strike of lightning. He shook his head, wings shifting behind him. “You don’t understand.”

“I do,” you whispered, fingers twitching at your side to reach for him. “You think Rhy would hate you.”

“Wouldn’t he?” his voice was low and rough. “You’re his little sister. And I-”

“You’re his best friend. His brother. And he trusts you. He knows you’d never hurt me.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched. “I wouldn’t.”

“Then stop pretending that wanting me is wrong.” You stepped back before he could answer, backlit by the moon as you walked toward the open space of the terrace. The House was quiet, its walls echoing with your boldness and your hunger. You stood there, framed by night as you slipped off your shoes and turned slowly.

“Dance with me.”

He didn’t move. You lifted your chin. “Please.”

The House responded before he could. Music began, soft and gentle, string and piano blooming into the quiet. The kind of song that demanded closeness. The kind that had always belonged to lovers, not warriors.

Azriel’s eyes closed for a moment. You thought he might turn and vanish into the shadows. But when he opened them, you saw something fractured there. Something deafened. He walked to you in three slow steps.

And these arms were around you.

You melted into him without hesitation, your cheek resting against his chest. His heart was pounding almost as loudly as yours was. His wings shifted behind you as his hands gripped your waist, guiding you into a slow sway.

It wasn’t a soldier’s hold, it was a lover’s, protective and reverent.

You tilted your head back, eyes on his mouth. “You’re still holding back.”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t.” You bite your lip, slowly, and feel the way his breath caught, his shadows withered and tickled at your heels. “You’ve always wanted me, haven’t you?” He didn’t deny it. He just stared at you, his hands trembling slightly where they helped your hips. “I knew the first time you looked away,” you said. “I’ve spent years waiting for you to stop.”

The music slowed as his hold tightened. And when you rose to your toes, brushing your lips just barely against his. He finally stopped. Stopped pulling away, stopped fighting how he felt.

Azriel’s shadows surged around you like smoke and silk, coiling at your spine, sliding under your dress. His body pressed flush against yours, towering, hot and desperate. And still, he didn’t kiss you back. Not fully.

He looked like a man teetering at the edge of a cliff, scarred hands clenched, wings trembling, shadows circling like vultures.

You cupped his jaw gently, “Az…”

He inhaled sharply, like your voice burned. His hands on your waist flexed, like he wanted to drag you closer, but still didn’t trust himself.

“I can’t,” he rasped, voice strained and cracked. “You’re-”

“Don’t say it.” You stood on your toes once more, lips rushing his. “I know who I am. And I know who I want.”

He groaned, a low, guttural sound, and suddenly, your back hit the wall of the terrace. Not hard, not rough, but urgent.

His body caged yours completely, towering over you. Wings spread wide and trembling behind him like a predator mid-hunt. His chest heaved, his hair falling over his brow in wild, unkept waves, and his shadows writhed between your legs, around your wrists, your neck, like they couldn’t decide where they wanted to taste you first.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he growled.

You looked up at him, flushed and breathless. “I hope so.”

His pupils blew wide. “I’ve wanted to run you for centuries.

“Then ruin me, Azriel.”

He snapped. Finally.

One second, he was still. Next, you were in the air. He’d lifted you like nothing. Like your weight didn't matter, just one massive hand around your waist, pinning you to the wall, legs wrapped around his hips as he pressed flush against you.

“Az-”

He kissed you. Devoured you completely. His mouth crashed into yours with a desperation that bordered on violent, hot, slick, claiming. His tongue parted your lips and swallowed your gasp. He growled again when your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, like you wanted to crawl inside his skin.

He let you pull, but he held all the control. His shadows surged behind you, pinning your wings gently to the stone wall, bracing you so his hands could roam freely. One slid up your spine, while another gripped your thigh, yanking it higher around his waist.

“You don’t understand,” he panted between kisses, voice breaking. “I’ve dreamed of this. Every fucking night. And I wake up hating myself.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted that I wasn’t allowed to have.”

You kissed his jaw. His neck. His scarred shoulder. “Then take me anyway.”

His hand came to rest on your face, cradling your jaw so gently that it made your heart ache. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours.

“You won’t. I can handle more than you think I can.” You bite his lip, teasing.

He snarled, and then his shadows exploded.

They coiled around your waist, pulling you away from the wall, only to wrap you up in them like silk restraints. His winds closed around you, a protective cocoon of night and wind, hiding you from the stars, from the world, from everything that wasn’t him.

“You’re mine,” he growled against your mouth, lifting you effortlessly again. “Do you understand me?”

You whimpered, nodding. “Yours.”

His mouth crashed into yours again, harder this time, hand sliding beneath your thighs to grip your ass as he carried you through the halls of the house like you weighed nothing. One arm around your back. The other is between your legs. His shadows wrapped around your ankles and wrists like a crown.

Your back met the softness of your bed, but your attention was solely on the male in front of you. Azriel couldn’t stop staring.

Not even as he knelt between your spread legs on the massive bed, the House had now been lit with candles. Not even when you reached down and touched his face, a whisper of fingers over his jaw. Not even when you whispered his name, as if it were something past.

“I never thought...” His voice broke, deep and rough as he withheld his emotions. “I’d get to touch you.”

Your hand curled into his black hair. “You’ve always touched me.”

“You know what I mean.”

Yes. You did. The weight of years pressed between you. All the stolen glances, the tension, the desperate little almost-touches. All the time he’d spent holding himself back because you were Rhys’s baby sister and off-limits. But now, Azriel was looking at you like you were the only star in the night sky. He was done pretending, done denying himself.

And when he kissed you again, it was like he breathed you in.

He kissed your lips like he wanted to memorise the shape of them. He kissed down your throat, over your dress, reverent as he went, until he reached your breasts and kissed them through the fabric, your nipples firm and scratching beneath the dress.

You arched into him, and he groaned. That sound was enough to send a deep shiver down your body.

“I want to taste every part of you,” he almost begged against your clothed abdomen, continuing to kiss your body.

He didn’t undress you, not at first. His shadows peeled back your dress only enough to bare you. A shoulder, your breasts finally spilling free. Then your underwear, soaked already, pulled gently aside as he kissed your hips, your thighs, desperately. His hude hands slide beneath your ass and lifted you like you weighed nothing, bringing your cunt closer to him.

And then he buried his mouth between your legs.

Azriel didn’t eat you out to tease. He did it like he needed to live. He moaned when he tasted you, lapped at you like he was desperate, tongue working slow, steady strokes until your hips bucked into his face.

His hand came down on your thigh, “Let me,” he said, almost a plea.

You whimpered. “I need you.”

“You have me.”

He kept going, longer strokes with his tongue, deeper. Until you’re crying out, grinding relentlessly against his mouth and nose, crying out for more. Until you came with a choked sob, hands in his hair, thighs trembling as your orgasm dragged on and on.

Even after, he didn’t leave you empty. Two ice-cold fingers slid inside you, slow and deep, and your whole body arched. You could feel it then. The stretch. The slight ache of being filled.

“You’re already tight, I don’t know how you’ll take me,” he said against the sensitive area of your inner thigh where he was continuing to kiss and bite.

“I will,” you say breathlessly, looking down your body at him. “Azriel, I want to.”

He pulled back, eyes wild as he undressed, shadows tugging his elathers off his broad chest, his powerful thighs, until he was kneeling there above you, naked and gorgeous.

And then you saw his cock. You gasped.

It was massive. Thick, long, veined and dark, flushed at the head and already slick with precum. It twitched under your gaze.

Azriel groans, hands clenching into the sheets as his wings flared behind him. “I knew I’d hurt you.”

“I want it to hurt.”

He froze, as if he were internally conflicted.

You reached for him. “Azriel, I want to feel everything, I want you to fill me until there’s nothing left but you.”

With a growl, he surged over you. Mouth deouring yours,, cock griding against your soaked pussy. One hand cradled the back of your head with unbelievable gentleness. The other pinned your hip in place/

And when he started to push in, you felt every inch.

The pressure was unbelievable. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your mouth open in a silent moan as he slow, so fucking slowly, workings his thick lengt insude.

“Gods,” he breathed. “You’re–fuck, my love, you’re so tight. So perfect.”

You whimpered, overwhelmed as your thighs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer.

“Does it hurt?” he rasped. You nodded, biting your lip. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head, eyes widening as you looked up at him. He kissed your forehead. “You’re taking me so well.”

He rocked deeper, letting you adjust, your breath coming in shaky gasps as you stretched around him. It burned and throbbed. But it was precisely what you needed.

And when he finally couldn’t inch in any further, your wings snapped open behind you, shimmering with raw pleasure.

Azriels groaned like it broke him. “You like it?” you asked hopefully.

He looked down at where you were joined, a dark flush on his neck, sweat beading at his temple. “I’ll never be the same again.”

Then he started to move. Slow, grinding thrusts, deep enough to make your vision blue. He held you down, kissed your throat, fucked you like he was carving his name into your soul. Every time you clawed at his back or tugged his hair, he snarked and moved harder.

You sobbed his name; he kissed your tears. And when he felt you tighten again, your second orgasm crashing through your body like waves of thunder, he growled into your neck, “That’s it. Cum for me. Let me feel it, my love.”

You shattered urgently, and still, he didn’t stop. He thrust through it, holding your hips steady with his huge hands, shadows crawling up your spine, pressing into your wings like a second mouth. You moaned louder, not thinking or caring who might hear you.

“I can’t stop,” he said, shocked, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re too fucking perfect. You were made for me.”

And then, when you whispered that you wanted it to hurt again, his control finally snapped. Az flipped you onto your stomach. And he retook you, deeper, rougher, worshipping every inch of you until you were sobbing into the sheets, begging for more. Until he, too, finally came inside you with a broken cry and buried himself so that it felt like you might never breathe without him again.

You didn’t remember returning onto your back in the middle of the bed. You only remembered his arms around you. The weight of him, the tremble of your own body, how sore and sensitive you were, how it still somehow wasn’t enough. How you wished you could pull him closer, deeper, keep him inside you forever.

Azriel was still above you, breathing hard, body slick with sweat. Your thighs shook where they clung around his waist, and he was still inside you, buried to the hilt, as if letting go would make this moment break apart.

You blinked up at him, dazed. “You stayed.”

His hand slid gently across your cheek, eyebrows drawing together in concern, “Of course I stayed.”

Your eyes pricked with tears. His mouth was immediately there, kissing your temple and catching every tear that fell. “Don’t cry.”

You let your eyes close, focusing on the warmth of his body, the burn between your thighs. The thrum of his heartbeat was still fast beneath his ribs. But he was already moving, slowly and carefully and lifting off you only just enough to keep from hurting you.

“Wait…”, you whispered, but he was already shushing you gently.

“I’m not leaving,” he said, brushing sweat-damp hair from your face. “Just taking care of you, sweet love.”

His shadows slid across the room. A warm cloth appeared in his hand, summoned by the House. You flushed when he knelt between your legs again, as if he hadn’t just spent the last hour inside you.

“You don’t have to”

“I want to.” So you let him.

He cleaned you carefully, being cautious of your tender body, gentle even as he wiped away his release leaking between your legs. Every pass of the warm cloth made you sigh. His hands were so big, drawing your waist, your hips, your thighs. His shadows curled protectively around you both, brushing your calves in coolness, your wrists, your neck.

When he was done, he vanished the cloth and pulled the sheets up over your body, settling behind you, letting you curl into the heat of his chest. Your body ached. It sang. But slowly, the world crept back in.

“What do we do now?” you asked into the hush. Azriel didn’t speak right away. You turned slightly, and your wings brushed his. “Azriel…”

His arms tightened. “We go back to pretending,” he said quietly. “At least for now.”

You flinched. “Even after–”

He kissed your shoulder, aching. “You think I want to hide this? Hide you? I’ve wanted you since I was barely a grown male.”

“I don’t care if Rhys finds out.”

“I do,” he said with great gentleness. “I care about you being safe and protected. Until we’re ready, we keep this between us. Just a little longer, my love.”

You didn’t like it. You hated that the fear still clung to both of you, that what you had to say goodbye to in the morning had finally happened after so many years. But you knew him. And you knew he was being careful with your heart. With your future. With you.

So you nodded. “Okay.”

His nose pressed to the back of your neck. “Get some sleep, love.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?”

Silence. Then: “no”.

You still. “But I’ll stay until you fall asleep. I promise.”

Your eyes fluttered shut. “You always keep your promises.”

His breath hitched. “Only for you.”

You didn’t fight the heaviness dragging you under. Not with his arms around you. Not with his scent in your lungs, his warmth cradling you from behind. You fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat in your ear.

And when morning came, the bed beside you was cold. But the ache in your body told you it hadn’t been a dream. And the pillow still smells like him.

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x rhysands sister #azriel one shot #actoar smut #acotar one shot #azriel smut #mine*#actoar

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ranikyani · 3 months ago

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The Richmond Archives 🏛️ I [A-I]

A collection of fics centered around Terry Richmond as a main character, exploring different stories, relationships, and adventures.

💌: Make sure you read warnings before engaging + Take care of yourself while reading, mwah💋

🏡: Return to Daddy's Library or…

💬 Readers Remember: Supporting our writers goes beyond just liking a post! Yes, likes are cool but comments/reblogs and kudos can be incredibly meaningful and make a huge difference! Many talented writers feel discouraged by the lack of engagement and recent foolishness, so let's uplift them by showing appreciation for their work. Don't make our favs beg for a crumb of attention!

✍🏾 Writers, this is a work in progress... but if anything needs to be changed or removed immediately pls lmk.

Status: Completed 🏁 - Ongoing📝 - Hiatus ⏸️

Length: Drabble✨ - OneShot 🎯 - Series 📚 - MiniSeries ⌛️- Universe 🌎

Note: Summary will be provided for stories without one included. If anything should be changed pls lmk. I haven't read 1/2 these fics yet… will continue to update summaries/emojis as I make progress.

Act Right 🎯

Summary:

Author: @nayaxwrites

After Hours ⌛️

Summary: terry does his damndest to let you know those whispers in your ear in his office weren't meaningless.

Author: @kenshisluvrgirl

Aligned ⏳

Summary: Right place, right time. When Cleo meets Terry, the rugged pretty boy, at the club on a celebratory night, it seems like the first in a string of divinely twisted moments. But will fate be enough to move their love along, or will they have to weather some storms before their happy ending?

Author: @venusincleo

All I Want Is You 🎯

Summary: Terry’s had his eyes on you for a while, like predator to prey, watching, waiting to strike. The only problem was that you were slippery, hard to get a hold of, he was gonna have to work extra hard to catch you.

Author: @mrsknowitallll

Assistance 🎯

Summary: Aaron is head of an architect firm who just hired a new assistant who is very nervous yet severely attracted to him.

Author: @mymindisneverhere

Around The Park 🎯

Summary: Essence had always found solace in Meadows Park, where the scenery, gentle sounds, and lively community events provided the perfect escape. Whenever life became overwhelming, she knew the park was her safe haven. But what she didn’t anticipate was an encounter with a mysterious, handsome stranger, whose presence not only drew her back to the park time and time again, but to him as well. And he to her...

Author: @enticingmelanin

The Art of Moving 📝📚

Summary: Noelle “Noa” Jameson knows what she wants—success, love, and the freedom to live life on her own terms. But when ambition and romance collide,she learns that not everything can be planned.

Author: @onherereading

Baby Mama 🎯

Summary: terry asks amina a question.

Author: @keyaho

Bad News 📝📚

Summary: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Author: @theereinawrites

The Beast in the Woods ⏳

Summary: Don’t let the wolf in through your back door…

Author: @nayaesworld

Bed Rest 🎯

Summary: Injury, light swearing, implied smut.

Author: @purplelily247

Big Mama 📝📚

Summary:...

Author: @theereinawrites

Bundle of You. 🎯

Summary: See Ask. You and your husband Terry just had your little one, and happily married. However you're having a hard time adjusting with everything, your mom babysitting. But your husband comes to the rescue.

Author: @notapradagurl7

Brat 🎯

Summary: Sasha is a brat. On purpose. Now Terry is mad. Big mad.

Author: @uzumaki-rebellion

Bunny & Her Man 📝⏳

Summary: in which Terry is head over hills for his girl, and shows it.

Author: @theblacklewinsky

Buttery Soft N' Sweet 🎯

Summary:...

Author: @2neaky

By Your Side. 🎯

Summary: You were a gifted professor for all black magic academy, teaching your students alongside Terry, where you discover a strange flower and leaves you alone with him.

Author: @notapradagurl7

Break A Sweat 📝⏳

Summary: Terry ‘TJ’ Richmond was recommended to you by your brother who is a Marine. He’s now your personal trainer and Krav Maga teacher.

Author: @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

Can I Take You Out? ✨

Summary: neither lovers or friends, but he'll always treat her as his woman.

Author: @saturnville

Can We Talk 🎯

Summary: Whenever Friday night rolled around, you were right back to World on Wheels with your best friend, Elle. The intoxicating mix of lights, music, skates, and vibes ensured a good time always. But that wasn’t all there was to see. Terry ‘T-Bone’ Richmond took to skating like he was born for it. He had women fainting left and right. You would too, but he singles you out to dance with him and you can’t miss your chance.

Author: @megamindsecretlair

Can't Fake It 🎯

Summary: At your last family reunion you said you were done with, tired of the constant questions about your love life. You told a little white lie about having a boyfriend, enlisting your friend and roommate Terry Richmond to pretend to be your boyfriend, only for a few days. But you didn't expect the former Marine to be this nasty on this trip.

Author: @notapradagurl7

Clearwater Bay 📝📚

Summary: A woman returns to her childhood home—a coastal military town —after years of being away. Her family left the town abruptly under mysterious circumstances when she was young. Now, she’s back to investigate a recent string of murders — and whether she likes it or not, she’ll have to rely on her reclusive, former military neighbor, Terry Richmond, to help uncover the town's dark secrets.

Author: @onherereading

Clocking In 🎯

Summary: Terry Richmond x blackfemreader

Author: @slippinninque

Come and See Me 🎯

Summary: “sexually reserved men are THE best. Well behaved, won’t steal a kiss, won’t touch you inappropriately but boy if you give them consent? FINISHED…”

Author: @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

Crimson Obsessions 📝📚

Summary: After a steamy encounter with a sinfully handsome man in New Orleans, Camille DeWaterson returns to her life as a soon-to-be-married paralegal in Houston, Texas. But the incident becomes difficult to forget when the otherworldly stranger waltzes into her law firm, bringing a series of strange and enticing events with him. Terrence “Terry” Richmond, is an incredibly disciplined, calculating, and ambitious individual, at least… that’s what he is to the average mortal. But in reality, he’s a bloodthirsty supernatural with a keen interest for money, power, and beautiful women. When the gorgeous Camille DeWaterson slips from his grasp one fateful night in New Orleans, he vows to track her down and make her his bride. It doesn’t matter to him that she already has a fiancé or a commitment to join two families together. He isn’t going to rest until she belongs to him… body, mind and soul.

Author: @ch33z3grits

Dance In The Dark 🎯

Summary: One drunken night, you giggle with your friends as you dared each other to sign up for a fetish dating website that matched your kinks with others. The site took its reputation seriously so you knew that the man on the other side of the screen was real. And he really was that gorgeous. Terry acknowledges that it's time to meet and he makes sure this Halloween is unforgettable.

Author: @megamindsecretlair

Dancing with Terry ✨

Summary: slow dancing with terry richmond in the kitchen after he comes home from a long day at work.

Author: @kenshisluvrgirl

Daughter of Akasha 🎯

Summary: akina longs for companionship and terry isn't sure it should be him.

Author: @keyaho

A Daughter's Plan 🎯

Summary: Terry Richmond is a lonely single dad caring for his ten-year-old daughter, Pilar. When Pilar's mother re-marries and moves overseas to start a new job and family, the pre-teen thinks her dad needs to find someone for himself, too. Unbeknownst to Terry, his clever daughter has her sights set on the new neighbor, Allegra, who might be the perfect match.

Author: @uzumaki-rebellion

Debt Collector 🎯

Summary: Reader’s boyfriend steals money from his boss. When he’s caught, his boss teaches him a lesson starring you.

Author: @nayaxwrites

Deliver Us From Eva 🎯

Summary: In a rush to stake her claim in the bedroom, Eva unknowingly signs a deal with the devil…

Author: @nayaesworld

Divine Indeed

Summary: Divine Wells, an autistic seamstress, deals with waves of change after she picks up her life and moves to San Diego for a new job. She thought she’d finally found peace in her new normal; until Oshun decided to push her path to collide with her fine ass neighbor, Terry Richmond.

Author: @mermaidchansons

Do It Scared 🎯

Summary: Aaron left your shared apartment in New York three months ago to film the biggest movie of his career, and every day since, the distance between you has grown. When photos surface of him looking a little too comfortable with an actress at an event, you hit your breaking point and decide to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Author: @lifeisbutadream444

Doppled Distraction 🎯

Summary: With the rising population of doppleganger attacks in Yohnville, Drea is a little past worried when her boyfriend Terry doesn't make it home on time.

Author: @simplyzeeka

Double Team 🎯

Summary: Terry invites his best friend David over to chill while he’s in town. After noticing his “girlfriend” Ava’s fondness for David, Terry lets Ava give his friend a happy ending before he leaves.

Author: @mymindisneverhere

Drunk Off You ✨

Summary: Terry Richmond x Black!Reader (Solai)

Author: @dxddykenn

Echoes In The Heights 📝📚⏸️

Summary: In the quiet town of Riverside Heights, Terry Richmond seeks a fresh start, but his growing connection with the guarded Elara Taylor forces him to confront the past he’s tried to leave behind—and the future he’s afraid to embrace.

Author: @saturnville

The End 🎯

Summary: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Author: @theereinawrites

Exhale 🎯

Summary: The last leg of your world tour has finally arrived, and you find yourself suffering from burnout. Thankfully, your boyfriend knows just how to rejuvenate you.

Author: @dpennedit

Fantasy blurb ✨

Summary: professor!Terry

Author: @ripeandsoft

Favors 🏁📚

Summary: Terry starts a new job at a warehouse after losing his life savings. He becomes acquainted with all of the workers except for one… the boss’ daughter.

Author: @mymindisneverhere

Finding Refuge 📝📚

Summary: Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse with Terry.

Author: @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

Fontaine Street 🎯

Summary: kyra returns to her hometown after ten years away. she ends up braiding the hair of the one man that had and still has her heart.

Author: @keyaho

Frazier 🎯

Summary: plus-sized!Billie Frazier x Terry Richmond

Author: @zillasvilla

From Over the Cubical Wall ✨

Summary: In which a coworker ships it

Author: @slippinninque

Get Back 🏁⏳

Summary: Tension develops between you and your baby’s father when he discovers you might be moving on. Terry’s unhinged ass is going to do whatever he can to get her back.

Author: @writingsbytee

Give Me Everything 🎯

Summary: Thanksgiving Day was always a hustle and bustle of activity and noise, two things you don’t usually like even coming from a big family. While you flitted around checking in on everyone, you couldn’t help feeling a little selfish. After sending Terry a sexy picture while he was seated next to your father, you sneak off to your childhood bedroom to fulfill a little fantasy of yours.

Author: @megamindsecretlair

Good & Plenty 🎯

Summary: Terry stops in a small town for a late-night bite to eat and ends up moving on with more than he expected.

Author: @planetblaque

Grapple ✨

Summary: In which Terry lends a hand

Author: @slippinninque

Happy Birthday, Mr. Richmond 🎯⏳

Summary: Happy Birthday, Mr. Richmond. 😘 You plan a sweet and sexy surprise, presenting Terry with a small cake in nothing but an apron. Terry treats himself to his first present, your delicious body.

Author: @megamindsecretlair

Happy Birthday, Terry! Love, Havana ✨

Summary: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Author: @theereinawrites

Happy Birthday Terry Richmond 🎯

Summary: Terry Richmond x Charlie Richmond

Author: @novahreign

Helpful Neighbors 🎯

Summary: You confront your noisy neighbor about his loud late night company, he allows you to retaliate.

Author: @theblacklewinsky

Hematology 🎯

Summary: psycho!surgeon terry richmond x surgeon!black oc

Author: @keyaho

Hidden 📝📚

Summary: You’re running away from an abusive ex when you meet Terry working in one of his clubs.

Author: @writingsbytee

Hot for Teacher 📝⌛️

Summary: terry's daughter has been raising concerns for her teacher, prompting a parent-teacher conference and a potential match for her father.

Author: @kenshisluvrgirl

House Calls 📝📚

Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his cousins bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.

Author: @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

The Hotline 🏁⏳

Summary: Set in the early 2000s. Taking your best friend’s tipsy advice, you decide to call a sex hotline for help with dirty talk and your overall insecurities surrounding sex. When you call your local sex hotline, you get more than what you bargained for when Terry pics up the other line.

Author: @writingsbytee

I Get Filthy 🎯

Summary: sanai and terry go out with their friends. between shot and music, terry let’s loose, or was it all a game?

Author: @keyaho

I Love You 🎯

Summary: The reader and Terry say ‘I love you for the first time��

Author: @writingsbytee

I Need Your Lips On Mine 🎯

Summary: While Terry’s away on a special teaching assignment, you decide to be a little gremlin and not listen to him. You wear your sexiest dress out with your girlfriends to a rooftop bar. But Terry comes home early to ring in the New Year’s with you in a very special way.

Author: @megamindsecretlair

I Still Don't Want You To Go 🎯

Summary: A prequel to “I Swear I’ll Never Leave”. Four months ago, things came to a head for you, the loneliness getting too loud for you to ignore. You wanted your husband home, safe and sound with you. As you reminisce about the good times, it’s the bad times you can’t get over. And though your timing sucks, you have to finally tell Terry what’s really on your heart.

Author: @megamindsecretlair

I Swear I'll Never Leave 🎯

Summary: See Ask. When Terry comes to pick up your daughter, you can’t help picking a fight with him. He sends your daughter outside to wait with Mike while he makes sure you understand a few things.

Author: @megamindsecretlair

In Your Arms 🎯

Summary: Terry and Sienna share a peaceful, intimate Sunday morning in their cozy country home.

Author: @planetblaque

Is My Love Enough? 🎯

Summary: After spending all day racing from task to task, Terry knows exactly what you need.

Author: @megamindsecretlair

The Itch 🎯

Summary: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Author: @theereinawrites

It's Always Been About Love and Hate 📝📚

Summary: Terry Richmond x black!o.c

Author: @sillyteecup

#ranireads💌#aaronpierre #aaron pierre #terry richmond #aaron pierre x black reader #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x black reader #rebel ridge #aaron pierre x black!oc #terry richmond x black!oc #aaron pierre smut

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themarbledstudy · 24 days ago

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Spencer - The Outline

📃Masterlist || WC: 4249 || Unwritten Bloodlines Series

📚 Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader x BAU!Team

📚 Warnings: Angst.

📚 Context: Retelling of the Spencer Reid prison arc but now there's a lot more at stake.

📚 Author's Note: This is going to be a long series. I really wanted to rewrite the entire Prison!Reid arc with more at stake but all the while sticking somewhat closely to the original storyline. The story won't focus solely on Reid x BAU!Reader but also on the entire team and the effort to get him exonerated. There'll be small side stories and minor events, all in an effort to get Spencer out. There are a lot of twists and turns coming into play later in the series so I hope you enjoy this one! Also, I'm trying to gauge how long to make these stories. I'm not sure whether or not to keep it short (4k) or a little longer (10k). Anyways, this one kind of sets everything up for the rest of the series.

“What’s wrong?” JJ asked.

Prentiss responded. “Reid’s in jail.”

“Jail?” JJ repeated.

Prentiss continued. “In Mexico.”

Spencer was in jail. The weight of it all pressed down on your shoulders like a vice. Around you, everyone exchanged confused, unsettled glances. JJ’s eyes locked onto yours—pleading for answers, but also stricken, as if the news had hit her like a bullet.

This wasn’t just a team. This was family.

In the briefing room, the team sat in tense silence. You still didn’t know what to say—or even how to feel. None of it made sense. There had to be an explanation. This couldn’t be real. You knew Spencer. You’d known him long before the Bureau.

“It says here that Reid was involved in a high-speed chase,” Garcia read.

You and JJ sat together, puzzled.

“What? He hardly ever drives,” Emily said. “None of this sounds like him.”

You thought back to when Spence was learning to drive—he was terrible at it. Honestly, you were the better driver by a mile, which is why he rarely ever took the wheel during cases. It became an unspoken rule, a running joke. One of many small memories that now felt like a lifeline.

“Where are you with the searches?” somebody asked but you couldn’t focus on who was speaking.

Was Scratch behind this? Peter Lewis. The same guy who drove Hotch out of the bureau, not by choice but by force, in an effort to keep his son safe.

“Maybe he has a contact down there,” Stephen said.

That’s when it hit you. A memory surfaced—Spence had mentioned something about a doctor in Houston.

“It’s not in Mexico,” you said, your voice steadying with the thought. “But Spence did mention a doctor down in Houston.”

JJ’s hand found yours, a flicker of hope in her eyes. “Did he say who the doctor was?”

You shook your head. “No.”

She rested a comforting hand on your shoulder, her touch warm and grounding. She could see how hard this was for you—how deep it cut. And in that moment, words weren’t necessary.

Out of everyone on the team, she was the one who truly understood how personal this situation was for you. From the start, she’d treated you like a younger sister—always including you, always looking out for you. You’d known JJ even before Spencer met her. Funny how small the world felt, despite the millions of people in it.

She had confided in you about everything. It had been a surprise to you both when you ended up at the Bureau at the same time—new hires in the same department, though in very different roles. She’d been brought on for her exceptional skills. You, on the other hand, had been recruited quietly, bound by an NDA, your deep knowledge of sensitive government sectors—especially those involving biological weapons—deemed too valuable to ignore.

But more than any of that, she knew about you and Spencer. Or at least, as much as you were willing to share. She was the only one who knew about the quiet, careful relationship that had formed between you and him. So when the news broke—Spencer in jail—she was the only one who noticed the way your breath caught and your eyes faltered.

Her gaze flicked to yours first. Then to Emily.

“Okay, so I dug around his desk,” JJ said. “Found a bunch of medical journal articles—no big surprise. All about alternative medicinal treatments for fighting Alzheimer’s.”

Emily had already left with Rossi and Luke; they’d flown to Mexico to see Spencer.

You took a deep breath. “Well, he told me he was supplementing her meds with omega-3s and making sure she ate plenty of leafy greens. Since it takes years for the FDA to approve treatments, a lot of holistic medicine happens outside the States.”

Garcia and Tara quietly slipped out, heading to the FBI library, leaving you and JJ alone for the first time all day.

“You’re starting to sound a lot like him,” she said, trying to lift your spirits.

You let yourself soften a bit. “I guess that’s what I get for knowing him the longest.”

JJ handed you a small, leather-bound booklet—wallet-sized and worn at the edges. “I found this in his drawer. Thought you should have it now. Something to hold onto.”

“Thank you.” She gave you a brief, comforting hug.

Opening the booklet, you found just a few photos—mostly of the three of you with Spencer. The first was from the Redskins game, the one Spencer had tried to make a solo outing with JJ before she invited you and Garcia along. In the picture, he held a cap, barely interested in the game. You sat beside JJ, who squeezed both you and Garcia so tight it looked like she was trying to squeeze the love right out of you.

You laughed softly. “Remember the Redskins game?”

She smiled. “Yeah. How could I forget? You begged me not to make you go, but once I roped Garcia in, she wouldn’t let you sit it out.”

The next photo was just you and Spencer—one he’d taken himself. It was from his first trip to New York City, the city blanketed in snow.

“Where was this taken?” JJ asked gently, trying to distract you, though you weren’t ready to be distracted.

“My hometown,” you said. “At my childhood home in Manhattan. It was his first time in the city—and meeting my grandparents. Years before we joined the Bureau.”

The final photo was just of you—standing, looking toward the camera, holding your PhD diploma tightly to your chest.

JJ had already slipped out again, searching for more clues in Spencer’s desk, leaving you to yourself.

You flipped to the very last photo.

It was the two of you at your courthouse wedding in New York City—the one you kept buried deep in your personal records, sealed away from the world, from everyone. Only you, Spencer, and Gideon knew. You were both so young then—26, compared to the 34 and almost 35 you were now. Gideon had snapped the picture as the judge allowed you both to kiss, sealing your vows in the courtroom forever.

Nobody else knew. JJ only knew you were together—nothing about the marriage. Everyone else on the team thought you were just best friends, close for over a decade.

That’s why it stung. Your husband was in jail for a crime you knew that he did not commit.

It begged the question: Did you really know him at all? (Of course you did.) This wasn’t the Spencer you knew. You just didn’t know how you’d prove it.

“Hey, JJ” Luke said through the phone.

“Is he okay?” she asked.

You were sitting next to her, foot tapping against his chair, the one you were sitting in, searching through his desk again for answers.

She pressed something on her phone. “You’re on speaker by the way.”

“I’m not sure he recognizes us,” he continued.

Your heart sank.

Stephen chimed in. “It’s the drugs.”

The phone call ended. The silence that followed felt heavier than any words could.

“He worked so hard to get sober,” you said quietly, your voice cracking. “I just—I don’t understand. He knows we’re here for him. He tells me everything. So why didn’t he tell me about this?”

You were unraveling by the minute. Holding it together on the outside, but inside, everything was coming apart. The sharp pang in your chest kept returning, like clockwork—reminding you just how wrong this all felt.

Right now, none of that mattered. Not the pain, not the questions. The only thing that mattered was getting Spencer out of jail—or at the very least, back on U.S. soil, where he could be within reach. Within protection. Within reason.

Everyone had gathered in the briefing room again, the air thick with tension and unanswered questions. Garcia sat at her station, typing furiously, her screen casting a faint blue glow across her face.

“I didn’t even know he crossed the border once,” she murmured, disbelief curling in her voice. “Let alone three times. What was he doing down there?”

The words hit you harder than you expected.

You’d never thought to check where Spencer was going. Why would you? You trusted him—with everything. When he said he was visiting a clinic in Houston, you believed him. You’d offered to go with him, to stay behind and take care of his mother when he couldn’t. You never once thought he’d hide anything from you.

But now?

Now it all looked different.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly unsure. He was brilliant, yes—but so were you. Maybe you didn’t have his memory, but you had instinct, and your gut told you something had been off for a while. It puzzled you—not just what he was doing, but why he didn’t think you’d eventually discover it. Maybe that was the worst part. That he didn’t try to keep you in the loop.

That he didn’t think he needed to.

“He told me he was going to Houston,” you said softly, voice barely carrying across the room. “Said there was a clinic running an experimental Alzheimer’s treatment. I didn’t know he was crossing into Mexico.”

Emily spoke over the phone. “He’s being extradited back to the States. Our jurisdiction applies—Dr. Nadie Ramos is a dual citizen.”

Everyone exhaled—quiet, collective relief washing over the room like a low tide. It wasn’t over. Not even close. But he was coming home. Back where you could see him. Talk to him. Ask him the questions that had begun circling in your chest like storm clouds.

You clutched the little leather booklet JJ had given you earlier, the edges soft from wear. Your thumb brushed over the picture of you and Spencer in the snow outside your childhood home, his arms wrapped around you like he’d never let go.

He was your husband. No one else knew. Not JJ. Not Garcia. Not even Emily. It had been your secret—sacred and quiet, sealed in a courthouse years ago with Gideon as your witness. You loved him. You still did.

But now, sitting in that room, surrounded by people trying to unravel his actions, a small crack had formed inside you. And no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, one aching question kept rising to the surface:

What else didn’t I know?

You wanted to believe in him. You needed to believe this was all a misunderstanding. But for the first time, you weren’t sure if the man you’d married had trusted you enough to tell you everything.

And that, somehow, hurt more than the rest.

On the Jet

On the jet, the hum of the engines filled the quiet space between them. The calm after everything wasn’t peaceful—it was too still, too fragile.

“I’m glad you sound like your old self again,” Emily said gently, her voice carrying more meaning than the words alone.

Spencer offered a faint smile. “Me too.”

She watched him for a beat longer than necessary, then turned her eyes back to the folder in her hands. “We can stop by the BAU when we land,” she continued, tone shifting into something more procedural. “But after that, we’ll be taking you to the district. You’ll be processed at the federal jail.”

A heavy pause settled over the cabin.

Spencer sat motionless for a moment, then parted his lips—as if something needed to be said. But nothing came. The words caught in his throat, dissolving before they reached the air.

Does she know?

His gaze lingered on Emily. She hadn’t said anything… not about her. Not about them. But something in her tone, in the way she kept looking at him—like she was waiting for something—made his stomach turn.

The silence stretched, filled with unspoken truths. And for the first time since this nightmare began, Spencer wasn’t just worried about getting out.

He was terrified of what he might lose when he did.

At the BAU

You were still in the briefing room, eyes scanning over Spencer’s old personal records—files you'd read a hundred times before but suddenly felt like you’d never really seen. Everyone else had gathered near the elevators, waiting for his arrival. You couldn't bring yourself to leave the room yet. Not until you were ready to face him. Not until you understood something—anything.

Down the hall, JJ was the first to hug him. Garcia followed, then Tara. The moment was brief but heavy, each embrace carrying more than words could.

“Y/N?” Spencer asked quietly, glancing toward JJ, his voice unsure.

JJ gave him a small, sympathetic smile. “She’s in the briefing room. I’ll go get her.”

A gentle knock pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to see JJ leaning in the doorway, her expression soft, careful—like a mother coaxing her child from behind a locked door.

“Spence is here,” she said. “He’s asking for you.”

Your legs moved before your heart caught up. You followed her silently through the hallway, your mind racing, your chest tightening with every step.

He stood by the elevator, flanked by agents, his hands still cuffed but draped in an FBI jacket—as if that could hide the reality. But it didn’t. Not even a little. That’s when it hit you—not like a blow to the chest, but a fracture through your whole life. Past, present, future—all cracked at the foundation.

His eyes found yours instantly. And in them, you saw the same thing reflected back: this isn’t just bad—it’s personal.

You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him. The room faded around you. Emily was already speaking with the team about legal protocols, the logistics of his protection. But none of it reached you.

Luke stood close—close enough to maintain control, far enough to give a sliver of privacy. Spencer leaned in just enough to whisper, voice low and urgent against your ear.

“You can’t get involved,” he said. “You have to go. Witsec.”

You pulled back slightly, trying not to make a scene. “Spencer, no. I’m not leaving. I need to be here—with the team. With you. I’m going to find out what’s going on. We’re going to fix this.”

He shook his head, locking eyes with you—his gaze desperate. “Y/N. Baby. I want you here when I get out. If Scratch is behind this... he’ll come after you next. He pushed Hotch out of the only place he ever felt in control. He’ll do the same to you. We can’t let that happen.”

Your eyes stung, but you didn’t let the tears fall. You held the line, even if it felt like it was breaking inside you.

“Don’t cry,” he said quietly. But there was something in his tone—firm, commanding. The same tone he used with unsubs when he couldn’t afford to lose control.

He leaned in and kissed your forehead, just once. Soft, grounding.

“You’re strong, baby,” he whispered. “Stay long enough to let things cool off… then go.”

You shook your head, the denial barely visible but full of meaning. “I can’t. I won’t.”

He looked at you—really looked at you. There was a plea in his eyes, something raw and afraid and protective all at once.

“Please.”

But still, you didn’t move. You just shook your head again, the smallest gesture that meant everything.

You weren’t going anywhere. Not yet. Not without a reason.

JJ stepped in, trying to ease the weight in the air, her voice light but laced with care.

“I took my boys to see your mom. Garcia made sure she’s been eating every night. Y/N handled the nurse situation—you know how she is. And she’s been keeping an eye on those early trial studies you were so interested in.”

Spencer offered a small, grateful smile. He meant it. He appreciated it all. The care, the loyalty. The way the team—his family—had stepped in. And especially you.

But his eyes never left yours.

Not for a second.

It was like the two of you were having an entirely different conversation—one without words, just looks exchanged with the weight of everything left unsaid. He was asking you to listen. To leave. To protect yourself. You were asking him to stop. Let you stay. Let you help. For better or for worse.

JJ’s House

JJ stepped quietly out of her sons’ rooms, the soft hum of a white noise machine trailing behind her. They were finally asleep. Will was still on duty for a few more hours, so she’d called in reinforcements—their boys’ favorite person outside of family: Aunt Y/N.

You’d come without hesitation. And being godmother to Henry? That had been one of the happiest surprises of your life.

Spencer had been a little more hesitant when JJ asked him to be godfather, unsure if he could live up to the role—but he said yes. Of course he did.

You smiled, remembering the moment at the hospital when Henry was born.

“You’re gonna go to Harvard,” you had whispered, brushing a finger over his tiny hand. “I’m sure of it.”

JJ laughed from the hospital bed, cradling him against her chest. “You hear that, little guy? Ivy League already.”

“Harvard?” Spencer had scoffed, seated beside you with his usual edge of sarcasm. “I could get him into CalTech with one phone call.”

“Don’t worry, JJ,” you’d replied, shooting Spencer a mock glare. “I’ll make sure he goes to the better school.”

Spencer gave you a look—whatever written all over it—but you caught the twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. He knew exactly what you were doing. The Harvard-CalTech banter was an old dance between you two.

Will had just laughed then, standing beside JJ with awe in his eyes. “Kid’s already got more love than he’ll know what to do with.”

And he was right.

Back in the present, JJ moved into the living room where you were curled up on the couch with a mug of tea. She smiled, soft and tired.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Always,” you said. “They’re angels.”

She nodded, sitting beside you. For a moment, the house was still. The kind of stillness that only came when kids were asleep and the grown-ups could breathe again. But beneath the quiet was something else—a subtle knowing in her eyes.

“You holdin’ up alright?” JJ asked, her voice low, careful.

Your fingers tightened around the mug. You didn’t look at her, not right away.

“Not really,” you admitted. “But I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

You tried to brush it off, but your voice cracked at the edges. The weight of everything—Spencer, the silence, the fear—hit you all at once. You dragged a hand over your face, as if wiping it away would help.

But it didn’t.

The first tear slipped down without permission. Then another. And another. Until you weren’t just holding back—you were falling apart, quietly and fully, for the first time that day.

JJ moved closer without hesitation, handing you a tissue and rubbing your back in slow, comforting circles. She didn’t speak at first. She didn’t need to. She knew the language of grief and pressure far too well.

You swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper. “He wants kids, you know?”

She stilled, letting you continue.

“We talked about it one night… years ago. We were at a Target, of all places. Just wandering around. He was standing in front of the baby clothes, touching this little onesie with dinosaurs on it.” You laughed faintly, choked by tears. “He leaned down and whispered something about our future kids. We’d only been together officially for a couple of months. But he meant it. I felt it.”

JJ smiled softly, her own eyes glistening with emotion—not just for you, but for Spencer too.

“You’re all he thinks about, you know?”

You looked at her then, something searching in your eyes. Needing more.

She hesitated. Not because she didn’t want to tell you—but because the story in her mind was his. And yet… it was yours too.

“Emily and I once took him to an outlet mall in Virginia,” she said slowly, settling back into the couch. “You were in California on that expert witness thing with Hotch. We thought it’d be good to get him out of the office for a few hours. Big mistake—he was miserable in the sun, whining about exposure and bacteria on food court tables.”

You cracked a weak smile, letting her keep going.

“We stopped into a store—Emily wanted to look for baby clothes for Henry. Nothing serious. We were goofing off. But then we turned around, and there he was. Just... standing there. In front of a row of cribs. Reading every label like it was a bomb manual. Safety ratings, materials, recall notices—everything.”

You stared at her, stunned. You hadn’t heard this before.

“I asked him—jokingly—‘Thinking about having kids?’” JJ paused, her smile faltering a little. “He didn’t laugh. He just nodded. Said, ‘We both are. Just waiting for the right time.’”

Silence filled the space between you. Heavy, tender, real.

It was the kind of story that cracked your heart wide open—not just because he wanted a future, but because he was already planning for one.

With you.

And now, everything felt so uncertain.

JJ leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on her knees as the soft hum of the living room settled around you both.

“You know,” she said, voice low and careful, “I’ve known for a long time.”

Your eyes flicked toward her. “Known what?”

There was no accusation in her tone—just understanding.

“You and Spencer.”

You tilted your head slightly, eyes softening. Of course she knew. Part of you had always known that she’d figured it out—years ago, even before you'd had the courage to call it what it was. But JJ had never said a word. Never pushed, never teased. She just… let it be.

Because she respected you. Respected him. Respected whatever it was the two of you were building behind quiet glances and unspoken promises.

JJ offered a small, knowing smile. “I don’t think you ever really meant to hide it from me. Not intentionally. But you never told me either.”

You sat in silence, heart picking up pace.

“I figured it out in Boston,” she continued, her gaze drifting like she was watching the memory play out in front of her. “That case with the museum director’s daughter. We were all running on fumes—late nights, freezing cold. The kind of case that lingers even after it's solved.”

You remembered. That bitter wind off the harbor. The endless hours in the field. And the final, quiet relief when it ended.

“Everyone was getting ready to pack up and head out. I was across the street grabbing coffee when I saw you two walking back to the precinct. Just the two of you. Laughing. He was carrying your bag for you, which wasn’t weird—Spencer’s always been thoughtful—but something about it was... different.”

JJ’s voice softened as her eyes returned to yours.

“He leaned in a little too close when he said something to you. You laughed, and then—he looked at you like you were the only person on the planet.”

You swallowed.

“And when you thought no one was watching,” she added, “he kissed you. Quick. Barely a second. You were behind a row of parked cars, and it was dark enough that I think you thought you were alone.”

Your chest tightened. You remembered that kiss. It had been spontaneous, a quiet moment in the dark—Spencer’s gloved fingers brushing your cheek, your lips meeting his just once before you both slipped back into your roles.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” JJ said. “Not because I didn’t care. But because I did. I knew what that moment meant. That kind of quiet love—it’s the kind you guard with your whole life.”

You blinked rapidly, throat tight.

“I saw it again, after that. Not always a kiss. Usually just… the way he looked at you when you weren’t looking. Or how your voice softened when you said his name. It was subtle. You two were good at keeping it quiet. But it was there.”

JJ leaned back slightly, exhaling.

“I didn’t need a label. I didn’t need the details. I just knew.”

You wiped your cheek with the side of your hand, voice barely audible. “I didn’t thought we hid it well.”

JJ gave a quiet laugh. “To most people? You did. But I’ve always paid attention. Especially to the people I love.”

There was a pause before you spoke again, your voice barely above a whisper. “I thought he told me everything.”

JJ’s expression shifted, more serious now. “He probably thought he was protecting you. That whatever he’s holding onto… maybe it felt safer for you not to carry it too.”

“But we’ve never—” your voice broke, and you tried again. “We never kept secrets from each other. At least not like this.”

JJ leaned in, brushing your hand gently. “I know. And I don’t think it’s about not trusting you. I think he’s scared. Of what it might cost. Of dragging you into something that could hurt you.”

You let out a long breath, eyes glassy. “He doesn’t get to choose what hurts me.”

“No,” JJ agreed softly. “But love makes people do irrational things. You and I both know that.”

She gave your hand a final squeeze.

“And no matter how far he tries to push you away, you know in your heart that you could never live– wouldn’t ever leave.”

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hsangel64 · 5 months ago

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࿔📚*:･ crushing on the teacher ࿔📚*:･

pairings: abby anderson x fem teacher! reader

synopsis: reader is a teacher in the WLF and abby loves learning

warnings: mostly fluff a small amount of freaky-

a/n: let me know how you guys like this one!!

pt 2 !

abby never realized she could like someone so much, i mean she was head over heels. all she could think about was you, where you were, what you were doing, just about anything. manny always made fun of her for asking about you. the only problem was she was a stuttering mess or she talked too much around you. everyone knew her for her strength and she was intimidating really, but there was just something about you that she really didn’t know how to speak. she had a routine every day you worked, she woke up early and made you lunch to bring to you, every single day you were teaching, literally everyday. she’s that head over heels. today like no other she’s up by 6 am doing her morning routine, getting dressed and refreshed and then grabbing what she had to make you lunch. what abby didn’t know was that you always looked forward to seeing her, you thought it was super cute that she brings you lunch every day. every morning you made sure you looked your best, with the makeup you did have and the very few skirts you had that you could tell abby loved. you loved how she gets with you.

abby packed it up in a small paper bag and started to make her way to your classroom. you were in your classroom by 7am setting up for the day and abby was there right after to drop your lunch off. as she was walking to your classroom manny stopped her.

“hey abs, off to your girlfriends classroom?” she rolled her eyes at him, he always had something to say about this…relationship.

“shes not my girlfriend shut up manny.” he laughed and abby started to walk away from him.

“hey wait abs!” she scoffed irritated at the fact that he was going to make her late. she didn’t want to make you wait on her.

“what manny.”

“ooo feisty.” abby stared at him plainly waiting for what he wanted in the first place.

“am i gonna make you late?” she started to walk away again and heard him cackle laugh behind her.

“issac wants us at the FOB!!! don’t be late!!” he yelled and continued to laugh all the way down the hall. abby sped walked down the hall right to your class and right on time. she sees you at the white board writing down your lesson plan, abby takes a second to breathe before walking up to your door and knocking. she heard footsteps approaching and the door opened, today you had on something new that she didn’t recognize. you had a big sweater on with some tights and a black skirt on, she felt the lump in her throat and almost comical sweat drop appearing on her forehead.

“hey abs!” you greeted her and walked inside the class asking her to close the door on the way in. you guys had been doing this for what felt like forever now, you figured abby might ask you on a date by now but she hadn’t so you felt like you had to take it into your own hands, you were going to ask her today. little did you know she was thinking of doing the same thing. you walked back to your desk and abby came and sat at the seat you had by your desk. she handed you the small bag with your lunch in it and you thanked her.

“so what’s your lesson plan today?” abby shifted in her seat nervously, trying to find the right time to ask you.

“since it is friday i have something light for the kids, we have some art activities, a math worksheet and a movie!” she nodded and watched as you got your papers ready to put on each desk.

“you wanna put these on their desks for me?”

“oh uh ye-yeah.” she cursed herself for stuttering, she was trying to figure out a way to start to ask you.

“so-“ you both said at the same time.

“you go- no u-“ you both said and then laughed, you gestured abby to go and she nodded.

“um do you have anything planned tomorrow?”

“i don’t think so! i just have some stuff to grade and then ill be in my room the whole day basically. my rest day, why what’s up!”

“well- well i was wondering…wondering if you’d want to maybe…” she couldn’t find the right words, they just weren’t coming out.

“go on a date with you?” abby looked surprised, how did you know-

“earth to abby?” she shook her head and didnt even realize she was staring at the ground having to pick her head up to look at you.

“oh um ye-yeah, go out with me?” what an idiot, she shook her head at her response. you giggled at her and made your way over to where she stood. grabbing the side of her arm, you caressed it gently.

“of course ill go out with you abs. just let me know what time and where you want me.” you went onto your tip toes and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, her face went red at the affection and was stuttering like crazy.

“now go get my kids outside.” you stopped for a second as you were walking away and walked back. you grabbed both her arms and put them around you.

“be safe out there okay abs, for me?” bringing out all the stops, your voice being soft, puppy dog eyes, and you’re touching her. the room was so quiet you could hear her gulps.

“of course yeah yeah, ill be- ill be safe.” you were very close to her lips feeling her breathing quicken.

“ill see you tomorrow abs.” you whispered and walked back to your desk, her face was red and she quickly went and let the kids inside.

abby was like a deer in headlights, she couldn’t believe you wanted to go out with her, and you getting close to her basically kissing her?! she knew you’d be the death of her. as abby was walking out and trying to control the feeling she felt one of the kids asked her a question.

“ms. abby why are you always here to see mrs.l/n?” she was stunned by the question.

“yeah ms. abby why are you here all the time?” before she could respond another kid yelled from a bit away.

“i heard she likes her!” all she could hear were ‘ooos’ she rolled her eyes, how do these kids know this shit.

“who told you that?” abby asked wondering who opened there damn mouth.

“manny told me so!! she likes ms.l/n!!”

“oh shut up.”

“no you shut up!’

“no you!” that went on for a little bit until you came back over and stopped their bickering.

“hey its time for class lets go, leave abby alone guys!” they all said ‘awe’ but listened nonetheless. you winked at abby and closed the door waving through the glass. abby waved back and made her way to the cafeteria to eat and head off to her assignment. tomorrow should be fun.

———————————————————————————

a/n: i kinda want this to be two parts so if anyone wants it please let me know!!

#abby tlou #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby x you #abby anderson #abby x fem!reader #the last of us part 2

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vikkirosko · 5 months ago

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Hey, I saw your Metal Family fic with Dee and the reader taking care of the baby. I was thinking, what if the child was 3-4 and the reader asked for another baby. (Dee and the reader are both adults now). If not, then that's cool. Love your work! - Anon🌻

📚 adult!Dee x adult fem!Reader headcanons Second child📱

You and Dee have been taking care of the baby for the last few years. You were a young family, and you learned from your own experience what it's like to be a parent. You coped with all the difficulties together, rejoiced at your child's success, and now you felt a little more free, because your child started going to kindergarten. Dee remembered what difficulties there were in his childhood, and therefore he tried to make sure that your child did not have this. You both wanted your child to have a happy childhood and worked hard for it

At some point, Dee noticed that you were more thoughtful than usual. You watched your child play with a soft smile and sometimes talked about how your child would go to school in a couple of years. It started to seem to him that you were sad about it, but when he asked you about it, you just waved him off and said that everything was fine and he didn't have to worry about it. The whole situation seemed strange to Dee and he continued to worry about you, but he understood that he would not be able to find out from you about what was bothering you if he continued to insist. He was hoping that you would decide to tell him what was on your mind

One evening, after you put your child to bed, you went to the kitchen. It wasn't so late yet that it was time to go to bed, so you planned to sit a little longer. Dee noticed your serious expression and looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to start talking. However, he didn't expect you to ask how he would feel about having a second child. Dee was silent for a few seconds, trying to make sense of your words. He just opened his mouth to ask the obvious question, but you interrupted him, hurriedly telling him that you're not pregnant. He saw the blush on your cheeks, but you really tried to stay calm and explain to him what you meant

You told him that lately you've been thinking that maybe having a second child wasn't such a bad idea. You have already had the experience of caring for a baby, and your child has already managed to grow up, which means you would be able to take care of two children. At least that's what you thought. Dee didn't expect you to bring this up. He didn't think about having a second child, but he didn't feel any rejection of the idea. But you both needed to think about it properly to be sure that you really want it

Dee recalled how he himself grew up with his younger brother. Heavy annoyed him sometimes, but it was a happy time. He still cherished his younger brother, who often came to visit you, and now the idea of your child having a younger brother or sister seemed really good to him. He was going to tell you that. It may only take a few months before you tell your family that a new addition was expected to your small family

#Metal Family #Metal Family x Reader #Metal Family headcanons #Dee #Dee x Reader

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thewhimsicalarchives · 6 months ago

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📚 daily study reminder: study & continue working hard

"the most beautiful thing about learning is that nobody can take it away from you,"

~ B.B. King.

today's tv study icons of the day:

Elle Woods (Legally Blonde), Rory Gilmore (Gilmore Girls), Blair Waldorf (Gossip Girl), Seungwan (Twenty Five-Twenty One)

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artemiseamoon · 7 months 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.