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marvelwitchergilmore · 3 days ago

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Longing Looks to Something More

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> You and Tyler have been friends for a long time, but one day things begin to change.

Disclaimer: Steamy moments, swearing, fluffy moments, oblivious idiots in love, love confessions (kinda), lots of pining. Not Proof Read.

You heard his boots scuffing the barn floor before he pulled out a chair next to your desk.

“Here.” Looking up, you found where he’d placed a fresh cup of tea beside you. “It’s too late for coffee, and Cathy said it’s good for sleep.”

“I don’t need sleep.” You lifted the mug. “But thank you.”

Tyler sat back in his chair, watching you as you went back to your work. You’d been sitting at that desk since four o’clock in the afternoon, and that hour was long gone.

“When was the last time you got some decent shut eye?” Tyler asked, picking up a folder you’d finished looking at so he could make the conversation feel less like an interrogation.

He smiled as he saw the small scribbled in the margins.

“Before college properly.”

He shut the document. “I’m being serious, Y/n.”

“So am I,” you said, holding in a laugh. But then he gave you the look.

Sighing, and relaxing your shoulders, you leaned to look at him. “I appreciate your concern, Ty, I really do. But I’m okay. I promise.”

He watched you for a moment before taking half of the scribbled notes from you and using the folder as something to lean on.

“What are you doing?” You asked, watching him.

“Helping.”

“Tyler-”

He looked at you. “You need sleep and I’m not leaving until you do. And that won’t be until you finish. Twice the people, half the work.”

You would have fought him on it, but in truth, you’d spent so much time looking at the calculations and data you thought you were starting to think in them, instead of words.

And he was right.

Whatever work you’d been distracting yourself with was as wrapped up as it could be until you gathered some more data. And by the looks of it, the tea was working. You’d been giving into your yawns rather than trying to fight them off.

Tyler had seen you do this for years. He was just glad they had Kate’s barn to work out of when chasing. You all finally had a home base now.

“Right, come on.”

Tyler practically hauled you from your seat.

“Bedtime.”

It was easier than previous nights to get you to move away from your work and head down to the farm house. There were three places to sleep on the farm. Inside the main house, which was where Kate stayed with Cathy and someone else would take the guest room. Then there was the guest house, with a couple different rooms which everybody had slept in at least once. Whoever fell asleep first, got the first pick of a room. Then there was the smaller guest house. It had one bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, a small sitting room and enough of a wooden stand in the back to be considered a porch.

That was where you and Tyler would be tonight since you were the last to go to bed.

“I brought your stuff down here earlier. I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

“Okay,” you yawned.

By the time you’d gotten dressed in your pyjamas, these days consisted of a random t-shirt which you were sure had belonged to one of the boys at some point, and cotton shorts. You joined Tyler in the bathroom, brushing your teeth whilst he washed his face.

Turning off the bath tap, he wrung out the face cloth before throwing it over the towel rail to dry.

“Come on.”

Finally rinsing out your mouth, you heard the clink of your toothbrush in the cup and wiped your mouth.

Tyler’s hand hovered by your hip as he led you out of the bathroom, turning the light off behind him, across the small living room and into the bedroom.

By that point, Tyler had practically wrangled and tucked you into bed before laying down beside you. For years, you’d shared a bed. You’d both shared a bed at least three times with each member of the crew. There was always a motel somewhere that didn’t have enough space.

So it didn’t freak you out to think you’d be sharing a bed with Tyler.

By the time the lights cut out, it wasn’t long before you were fast asleep.

When you woke up, you felt secure. Like you’d been wrapped in a weighted blanket. Only when you opened your eyes did you realise it was Tyler’s arms. With your back against his chest, his arms held you securely against him. He was fast asleep. His breathing even, soft snores coming from him as he held onto you for dear life.

It took you a minute but you eventually pulled yourself from his arms and headed for the bathroom. By the time you’d finished, you could hear him walking around the place before you heard the pans being moved around.

He was making breakfast.

“Hey.”

Tyler looked over his shoulder as he scrambled the eggs. “Hey, how’d you sleep?”

“Good. Better than college.”

Tyler smiled. “Good. Eggs’ll be done soon.”

“Thanks. Want some coffee?”

Tyler nodded and you started brewing it from the pot, grabbing two mugs and setting them beside each other.

After breakfast and coffee, Tyler headed for a shower and you got changed into some fresh clothes. You’d also found his inside one of the closets so, after pulling back the bed covers, you laid his clothes out at the foot of the bed.

“Hey, Ty? I’m gonna head up to-”

You’d been focusing on tying the bottom of your shirt up as you walked the short distance out of the bedroom and past the sofa, ready to call through the door to him. However, without looking up, you ran into something.

At first, you figured it was the door, but when the door suddenly grew arms, steadied you and spoke, you realised what had actually happened.

Stood, his waist wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping a little from the water, Tyler had opened the door.

And there you stood, suddenly dumbfounded, in his arms, unsure of what to do.

“Uhh, sorry. I-I didn’t.” Your mind seemed to take a mental picture of the Tyler that stood in front of you in that moment, and for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why.

“You okay?”

Clearing your throat, you stepped back and out of his grasp. “Yea-yep. Yes. All good. I was just gonna…”

You forced yourself to look at his face before he thought you were checking him out.

“I was gonna head up to the barn. I’ve, uhh, I’ve left your stuff in..in the bedroom.”

You started to make a break for it towards the front door and Tyler remained in his position, watching you.

“Sure you’re okay?”

You nodded firmly. “Just peachy.”

Tyler couldn’t help but smile a little as he watched you leave after getting so flustered. But, shaking his head, he turned back towards the bedroom. He hadn’t meant for that to happen, but something inside of him was glad it did.

The rest of the day, you tried to keep your mind focused on your tasks rather than constantly replaying what had happened that morning. Tyler. His arms. His grip. His body. His eyes. His voice. Him.

None of that was helped when you saw him walking up the small hill towards the barn, his wranglers being filled in all the right places.

“Stop it.” You told yourself over and over and over again. Even more so when he leaned over you from behind your chair, asking about the data collection. How was it that a man could still smell so good hours after taking a shower? Immediately, your mind projected the towel-wrapped image of him from that morning.

“Stop it.”

Tyler hummed a response, not having heard you.

“Nothing,” you brushed it off. And he just shrugged.

However, you weren’t the only one confused by your sudden replay of the morning going over in your head.

“Stare at her any longer and somebody might think you’re in love.”

Tyler turned and looked back at Dexter. “What are you talking about?”

Dexter smiled. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at her. If you’re not looking around this barn for her, you’re looking at her.”

“No, I’m not.” Tyler tried to laugh it off. But then he found himself looking back at you. Your reaction to him coming out of the shower kept playing on his mind. As did the feeling of you being in his arms this morning before he woke up again.

Standing and leaning behind you as you sat at your desk allowed for your shampoo to fill his senses. And it took him right back to being in bed with you after ushering you to bed. He’d woken up just a little before the sun had come up. His arms were already around you, but he wouldn’t have moved in fear of waking you considering you were holding his arms to you.

Calming himself down, your shampoo filled his senses and imprinted the feeling and image of you in his mind. So, when he stood with you, that feeling came right back.

He must have fallen back to sleep, too, because when he woke up, he heard the sink running in the bathroom.

“Dex, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. So long as it’s not how to read Y/n’s handwriting. What does this even say?”

Leaning over him, Tyler read it. “Continued on page five.”

Dexter nodded, a little shocked. “What’s your question?”

“When…” He looked back at you for a moment before tearing his gaze away. “When do you know something is changing?”

“Is this about you and Y/n? Because I have to say, I think you might be the last to know.”

“What?”

Dexter started listing things off. “The way you look at her? The way she looks at you? The fact you’re the only one she’ll listen to, or you’re the only one who can read her handwriting?”

Tyler shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. But, I…”

“Did something happen?”

Tyler shook his head. “Technically, no.”

“But you wish it had?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know if I did or not. We’re friends. We’ve only ever been friends. Why would things start changing now?”

“Maybe now is the time.” Dexter said. “It’s like you say, a tornado is part science, part religion. Some things, or at least part of them, can’t always be explained. You and Y/n have a deep connection. You’re friends. Maybe now it’s time to explore things further.”

Taking one final look over at you, Tyler didn’t know what to do.

“Maybe.”

Tyler wrestled with the idea for a week or more. You’d both been friends for a long time. And, sure. Maybe he’d checked you out once or twice over the years. He wasn’t blind. You were beautiful. Why you were still single baffled him. And, yeah, maybe he’d felt a little jealous when someone from a bar would ask you to dance with them. But that didn’t mean he was catching feelings, did it?

Except, the longer time went on, the more he could feel them becoming more noticeable. He kept catching himself looking at you throughout the day, His heart and stomach kept doing a weird ‘hop, skip and jump’ thing every time he saw you. Except, it had started to be whenever he even thought about you. Whenever he saw you in one of the guy’s t-shirts that wasn’t his, he felt a pang in his chest, but when he saw you in his…he had to leave the room for fear of the extent of his emotions showing up in front of everyone.

And just when he thought he was getting better at hiding his feelings, Boone asked him a question.

“When are you gonna ask her out, dude?”

Tyler, who had been on the roof of his truck since you got back from another tornado chase, stopped what he was doing and looked down at Boone.

“What?”

Pausing where he was in the book you had given him only a few hours ago to keep him occupied, Boone looked at Tyler. “You’ve been watching her all day.”

Tyler looked back at his work, rather than back at you. You were a short way across the farm, helping haul some bags of feed from the truck and into the barn.

“No, I haven’t.”

Boone just laughed. “Come on, man. We all see it. Hell, I’ve seen it since you first met her. D’you know you get this funny look on your face when you look at her? Had it then, have it now. Just louder.”

Tyler just shook his head and mumbled; “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

This time, Boone stood up. “You’re my brother, Tyler. So I’m gonna tell you straight. You’re in love with, Y/n. So rather than sitting here, thinking about her. Go over there and do something about it. Or else Me and Lily are gonna have to start watching Parent Trap to take some more notes.”

Tyler looked back at Boone. “More notes?”

Boone cleared his throat and shook his head, scuffing his feet on the ground. If Tyler or you knew the lengths they’d gone through to get either one of you this far…

“Dude, just ask her out.”

As he went and sat back down, he watched Tyler look back down the field towards you. Except, that was interrupted by Dani and Dexter heading up the road.

It was from their announcement that everyone found themselves getting dressed up to head to the local bar for a night of country dancing.

However, that caused one problem.

Tyler.

Smelling just as he did a few weeks ago when you ran into his freshly showered, towel-wrapped body.

Filling out his jeans in all the right places.

With a crisp white t-shirt.

And you caught him from the moment he’d taken his backwards cap off his head, throwing it onto his dash and pulling his cowboy hat out, fixing it onto his head.

And the way he was looking at you as you walked down the steps of the house, dressed in your only pair of denim shorts that didn’t need washing, a t-shirt you’d borrowed from Kate since the one you planned on wearing still had motor oil on from when you were helping Dani with the camper, and an oversized checked shirt, along with your cowboy boots; it was giving you more ideas than you needed in your head when it came to Tyler.

“Ready to go?”

Tyler had to look away from you, letting his gaze land on his feet as he nodded and opened up his passenger door for you. “Yep.”

For a moment, you could have sworn he looked nervous. But considering you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him any longer than a second and a half in fear he’d see exactly what you were thinking when you looked at him, you couldn’t be sure.

And when he grabbed your hand half way through the night to bring you onto the dance floor, holding you close to him as you both two-stepped across the old wooden floor, those feelings that had been bubbling inside you for weeks; you could feel them pouring over whatever container you tried to shove them into.

The feeling of his hand on your lower back, the feeling of his hand in yours, the feeling you got when he looked at you, and the way his voice sounded, so close to your ear.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“It’s kinda personal.”

You were confused. “Okay?”

Now he just had to find the last shreds of courage to ask you. “Is something…has something…between you and me…is there…”

Each time he said a word, your head rushed around the million different things he was trying to ask you.

“Just spit it out, Tyler.”

“Do you like me?”

No. I love you.

“How’d you mean?” You asked.

Tyler had a few seconds to think how to phrase his question as he spun you out before pulling you back.

“Like, more than usual.”

Now he was starting to confuse himself. “I just…am I imagining things here, or is something…different? Between us, I mean.”

It was your chance to think. Had he been feeling it too? The way the room felt a lot more claustrophobic, in the good way, when it was just you two? Did he feel your touch as strongly in his bones as you did? Did he…did he love you the same way you did for him?

“It’s just…I feel like I woke up one morning and…I don’t know. You’re the person I’d talk to about this kinda stuff, so…I just thought I’d ask you about this, too. Is there…Is there something changing between us?”

The song slowed and you were completely against Tyler, standing in his space as he stood in yours. Looking up at him and meeting his green eyes, you told him the truth.

“I think it already has.”

From the table in the corner, the others watched you and Tyler slow down and just simply look at each other.

“Think he finally told her?” Lily asked, turning to the other hoping they saw what she did.

“I think she told him.” Dani said, grabbing a handful of chips.

“I think they’ve just told each other.”

Everyone looked at Dexter before turning to look back at you and Tyler on the dancefloor.

You watched as Tyler registered everything you said and after an eternity, he looked up and around the room. You didn’t know what or who he was looking for, but after another moment, he grabbed your hand.

“Come with me.”

You led you towards the back of the bar and out of the doors, the cold air hitting both of you all at once. The sound of the music and people drowned out as the door swung shut behind you both.

“Ty, where are we-”

Swinging you around, you felt Tyler stop you in your tracks before he looked at you. Really looked at you.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

From day one of meeting Tyler, you knew you could trust him. And you knew you always would.

Brushing the hair from your face, he seemed to finally breathe. And you slowly leaned into his touch. “Y/n…”

He swallowed nervously before asking the question that had been on his mind since the first time he’d woken up with you in his arms.

“Can I kiss you?”

Drawing his eyes from your lips, he looked into yours. You knew if you said no, he would walk away. He wouldn’t question you, he wouldn’t push.

But you wanted him to.

“Yes.”

“Are you su-”

You cut him off, standing a little higher on your toes, you took his face into your hands and pulled him in to kiss you. His hands held you steady at your hips before snaking around your body and holding you flush against him whilst your own arms did the same around his neck.

Parting for a breath, Tyler’s hands were quick to lift you up and you locked your ankles around his hips before your back was up against the cold brick wall.

A small moan left your lips which forced Tyler to pull his lips from yours for a moment.

“Are you okay?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Cowboy.”

Tyler smirked with a small chuckle. “Yes, ma’am.”

One hand holding you under your ass and another pushing through your hair, Tyler kissed you as if your life depended on it.

You died with his kiss, and he brought you back with the next. God, you never wanted it to end.

However, it was forced when you both heard the back door to the bar swing open and crash against the wall before a pair of drunk laughs getting closer.

Thankfully, it wasn’t anyone on the team. Otherwise you and Tyler would have been caught in a very compromising position considering you could feel all of Tyler against your body at that moment.

Looking back at you with a half drunk smile, which you were sure you owned the other half to, Tyler kissed you quickly once more. Before giving you another, and another and another as you slowly unhooked your legs from him and he lowered you to the ground.

“We better get back inside.”

You smiled. “I think the others already have an idea on what we’re doing out here.”

“Still. If we’re gonna go any further, I’d rather make love to you someplace that isn’t behind the back of a bar.”

You blushed. “Make love?”

Tucking a stray hair behind your ear, Tyler leaned down and kissed the shell.

“Would you prefer for me to fuck you? Because I can do that, too, Sweetheart.”

Tyler watched as your cheeks heated. He didn’t have to look at you to know what you were thinking about. Because he was thinking about it, too.

“Come on. We better get inside.”

Pressing a final kiss to your lips, Tyler took your hand and led you back into the bar. You were pretty sure after his question, your brain had been completely fried with thoughts of Tyler fucking you.

Not helped by the fact that when he walked you back inside, he pulled you to stand in front of him, his hands on your waist. “I’m gonna get a drink, you want one?”

You still couldn’t speak so just nodded.

Tyler smiled a little and kissed your temple. “You keep thinking about my question, Sweetheart.”

You felt his hand tap your ass lightly before he walked away and towards the bar and you were left to walk back to where the team had been sitting in the corner. Thankfully, most of them apart from Dexter were up dancing.

“You two finally talk?”

You felt yourself blush. You were glad most of the lights were directed onto the dancefloor or behind the bar. “A little more than that.”

Dexter smiled before taking a sip of his drink and handing you a small sketch.

“Dexter, you’re the only person I know that brings a pad and pencil to a bar.”

He smiled. “Never know when inspiration will strike. Plus, I think you’ll like this one.”

From his pad, he pulled a small piece of card, no bigger than a beer coaster. In the middle stood the outline of two people.

You and Tyler.

Just moments ago, when you were standing on the dancefloor together.

“Dex…”

He smiled. “You keep it. I’m gonna go to the gents.”

Standing up, Dexter walked away just as Tyler reached the table and handed you your drink before sitting beside you with his arm over your shoulders.

“Look at this.”

“It's us.”

You smiled as you watched Tyler take hold of it and examine it for a moment. You could hear the cogs turning in his head but you weren’t sure why. But then he removed his hat and fixed the picture in place on the inner band.

He fixed the hat back onto his head. “Well?”

You smiled. “You look handsome.”

Tyler smiled before leaning in to kiss you, and as he pressed his lips to yours, you both heard the hollering and whistles being blown by the rest of your team on the dancefloor.

You felt yourself blush and chuckle, Tyler doing the same except as you hid your head for a moment on his shoulder, he waved his hands at the other to get them to stop.

Looking back to you with a rested smile on his face, he leaned down and kissed you once more.

“Ready to go home?”

You nodded and went to stand.

“The offer still stands, Sweetheart.”

This time, as he remained seated, you turned back and pressed your knee into your chair, leaning over him as he looked up at you.

“I want both,” you told him. Then you leaned in closer. “But if you’re gonna fuck me, you better fuck me like you mean it.”

It was his turn to blush, but you didn’t get away with not for long because Tyler’s hand came to your hip holding you steady when you kissed him.

“Think you can take me, darlin’. Might need to get you ready first.”

You felt yourself smirk. “After those words and everything that happened outside, I’m already halfway there.”

Considering another tray of drinks made their way to the table in Dexter’s hands, Tyler told Tyler the others wouldn’t be leaving for a good while.

Tyler pressed one last kiss to your lips before he stood and took your hand in his, leading you back through the bar and towards his truck.

“We’ll have to see about that.”

#tyler owens #twisters #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens tornado wrangler #tyler owens x you #tyler owens cowboy scientist #fluff #pining #mutual pining #oblivious idiots #steamy moments #falling in love #glen powell #glen powell tyler owens #glen powell cowboy #cowboy #tyler owens x fe!reader #tyler owens x fem!reader

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jesuistrestriste · 3 days ago

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Wait ur halloween blirb got me drooling. The public humiliation mnnnnph.

Made me think... art accidentally calling u mommy in front of his tennis bros (and ur girl friends but they probably knew what kinda freaky shit their hg was into)

i <3 art being publicly humiliated mm mm mm it makes my heart swell.

he just always puts on such a show down at the courts ! smashing rackets and shooting cold looks at opponents. it’s all so calculated but he loves the attention. he loves being able to control the perception of him that the public puts together. adores being seen as a competent (albeit sometimes hotheaded), talented, strong tennis player.

so if you were to just get him to.. crack that facade a little..

ohh god, he’d be a mess. like he can’t really be mad at you. he put himself here. he did this. he let you get inside his head and now he’s saying and doing stupid shit in public that he can’t take back.

and it happens when his brain is least functional.

right after a long training session, or after a huge match.

in this case, it was the former.

he’d just finished up a 2 hour long rigorous training session and he’d agreed to come meet you at some smoothie place on campus.

when he gets there, sweaty and disheveled, his eyes instantly find you at a table outside and then he’s dragging his feet to get there. tunnel vision takes over. slumps right down next to you in an empty metal chair and pushes his face into your neck. you chuckle and pet his hair.

“hey, baby… you look tired,” you hum, still stroking your fingers through his messy strands. the smell of fresh sweat and warm skin is wafting off of him in heavy waves.

he pushes himself closer to you, a little whine slipping from his chest. he shakes his head and keeps his eyes closed before his left hand finds the back of your top.

“can we go?” he breathes out.

“Art, I ju—“

he whines again—a bit louder.. a bit more intentionally— as soon as he senses the word ‘no’ coming.

“please..” he whispers, his fingers curl in the fabric of your shirt, “need you right now.. please mommy…”

and it’s like the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight up. the simple words coming out in that utterly exhausted tone send heat boiling right down into your stomach.

art doesn’t get why it suddenly feels like the world went quiet until he realizes that he never registered the fact that three of your closest friends are sitting on the other side of the table.

he feels like he could just about die.

you nervously chuckle and look to your friends, all of them giving you either a surprised or knowing look before they all lean back in their seats and giggle amongst each other.

their laughter gets art’s blood curdling in the most delicious way, and suddenly he feels something warm twitching to life in his shorts. oh no.

he doesn’t dare pull his face from your neck. you’re his shield now. his chance at redeeming himself be damned ! he made his bed the moment he let you indulge his kink.

this is what he gets.

and you’ll be sure to remind him of it when you get him out of this mess and then face-down into the mattress to make a new one all over the bedspread..

#🌸 - ask prompts #💌 - mutuals #angellll…. art humiliation ??? …. yea yea yea mhm #im on a mommy kink art kick omfg #need it bad #GAHHH #need him squirming and whimpering out mommy everytime my strap touches his womb #like that’s my angel #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader

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marsdql · 3 days ago

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Winter Melody

Childhood best friend!Heeseung x reader

You were just taking a casual walk, when all of sudden, you spot someone you were the least expecting to see.

Genre: fluff, kissing, aloootttt of fluff, fluff hi, did I say fluff?, little suggestive at the end, oh and also fluff ;3 | wc: 2.2k

The first snow of the season had come early, blanketing the city in a soft, untouched white. You tugged your scarf tighter around your neck, pulling your hands into your coat pockets as the gentle crunch of snow beneath your boots became the only sound in the quiet park. Holiday lights strung across bare branches sparkled with a warm glow, casting a magical light over everything.

This walk was meant to clear your mind, a brief escape before winter exams and family holiday plans took over. You were so lost in thought that you almost didn’t notice the figure standing under a streetlight up ahead, leaning against a tree with hands in his pockets. Something about the way he stood looked familiar.

Then it hit you.

“Heeseung?” you called out, voice breathy from surprise.

He looked up, and a slow, easy smile spread across his face. “Y/n? I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You took a few steps forward, hardly believing your eyes. Heeseung Lee, your childhood friend who’d moved away years ago, was standing right in front of you. He looked older, his face sharper, but his smile held the same warmth you remembered.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, still half-convinced this was some winter dream.

“Visiting for the holidays,” he said, shrugging. “My parents missed the quiet life here. And, I guess I missed it too.”

You both laughed, an unspoken nostalgia in the air. There had been so many moments like this when you were younger, wandering the neighborhood together or building snowmen in your backyards. It felt surreal to see him here again, like you’d stepped back in time.

After a beat of silence, Heeseung spoke. “Hey, how about some hot chocolate? There’s a café just down the street. Let’s catch up.”

You agreed, and soon you were sitting across from each other in a cozy corner of a small café. The two of you fell into easy conversation, sharing stories about high school, family, and all the things you hadn’t told each other since he’d moved away. Heeseung told you about his life in the city—his school, new friends, and everything he’d missed about this place.

Hours slipped by as you talked. The café’s warmth, the comforting hum of soft music, and the flickering candle on the table made everything feel just right. You laughed and reminisced, falling back into that old familiarity, yet something felt different now, too. There was a tension between you, something you couldn’t quite name.

He looked at you, his gaze lingering. “You know, I thought about calling you so many times, but…I didn’t want to be just a voice from the past.”

You looked down, heart racing. “I thought about you too, Heeseung. I guess I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

He chuckled softly. “How could I forget? You were always there for me.”

The days flew by, and meeting Heeseung became part of your routine. You explored the town’s winter markets, tried seasonal treats, and found yourselves wandering through snowy paths and taking in the holiday lights together. Each moment felt like a gift, like you were getting to know each other all over again.

One afternoon, you decided to go ice skating at an outdoor rink. Heeseung laughed as you stumbled onto the ice, gripping the railing tightly. He skated over to you, holding out his hand with a playful smile.

“Need some help?”

You nodded, feeling your face heat up as you took his hand. He guided you around the rink, his laughter filling the air whenever you wobbled. Eventually, you managed to skate without holding on, the both of you gliding side by side, snowflakes catching in his dark hair. You stole a glance at him, heart fluttering. He seemed so at ease, so genuinely happy.

As the sky turned a soft pink with sunset, you both left the rink and wandered back to the park. Heeseung stopped, looking up at the holiday lights hanging from the trees.

“This place really hasn’t changed much,” he said, his voice soft.

“Neither have you,” you replied, feeling a mix of nostalgia and something more. “It’s like you’re the same Heeseung, but…also not. In a good way.”

He looked at you, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged. “I’m glad we met again, Y/N. I didn’t realize how much I missed this.”

He took a small step closer, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him despite the cold. You both lingered there, inches apart, your breath visible in the night air. Just when you thought he might say something more, he smiled softly, stepping back.

“I should get you home. It’s getting late.”

In the days that followed, you both grew closer. Heeseung became a comforting presence in your life, someone who understood you in a way that felt deeper than before. But the feeling growing in your chest, a warmth that stirred every time he looked at you, made you wonder if this friendship had changed.

One night, you couldn’t keep it to yourself any longer. You invited Heeseung to the park and met him near the same streetlight where you’d first run into each other. Snow fell gently around you, blanketing the world in a peaceful quiet.

Heeseung walked up, his breath fogging the air. “You sounded serious on the phone. Is everything okay?”

You nodded, gathering your courage. “I just… I wanted to tell you something.”

He looked at you expectantly, his dark eyes full of warmth.

“These last few weeks have been amazing,” you began, your voice soft. “I didn’t realize how much I missed you. And I thought maybe…” You took a shaky breath. “Maybe this isn’t just friendship for me anymore.”

There was a beat of silence, and then, without a word, Heeseung took a step forward, closing the distance between you. He reached out, his hands gently framing your face, his gaze searching yours.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he whispered.

And before you could respond, his lips met yours. It was a gentle, warm kiss, one that felt like the answer to every question you hadn’t dared to ask. Snowflakes fell around you, the world fading into a quiet, beautiful blur as you melted into his embrace.

When you finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile on his face.

“I came back for the holidays, but…I think I might stay a little longer,” he said, his voice full of promise.

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. “I’d like that.”

As you stood there together, snow drifting around you and holiday lights twinkling in the background, you knew this was only the beginning.

The days after that kiss were a blur of laughter, stolen glances, and small moments that felt bigger than they were. The holidays were in full swing, and with every shared coffee, every walk under the twinkling lights, you found yourself falling deeper into Heeseung’s presence.

One evening, the two of you found yourselves sitting by a window at a café, the soft glow of the lights outside casting shadows over the table. You had just finished a light dinner, but neither of you seemed in a hurry to leave. The snow continued to fall gently outside, the world muffled in white silence.

You took a sip of your hot chocolate, your fingers lingering on the rim of the cup. Your eyes met Heeseung’s across the table, his gaze warm, unwavering. There was something in his eyes, something more than the playful teasing that had marked your earlier conversations.

He smiled, but there was a softness to it now, an intimacy that hung between the two of you, unspoken but understood.

“I’m really glad we found each other again,” Heeseung said, his voice low and steady. “I didn’t realize how much I missed having you in my life until we started talking again.”

You placed your cup down, suddenly feeling the gravity of his words. The world outside seemed to pause as you sat in that moment, your heart racing as you stared back at him. There was a connection here, something undeniable that you didn’t want to ignore anymore.

“I’ve missed you too,” you said, your voice a little softer than you intended.

The silence that followed was comfortable, full of quiet understanding. Heeseung leaned forward slightly, his hand reaching across the table to rest near yours. You didn’t pull away.

The warmth of his hand so close to yours sent a spark of electricity through your chest. The air between you felt charged, and for a moment, it felt as though everything else had disappeared. Your pulse quickened as you instinctively moved your hand closer to his.

Heeseung gently brushed his fingers against yours, the light touch enough to send a flutter through your stomach. He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t want to rush anything,” he said, his lips close to your ear, “but I want to make sure you know how much I care about you.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. His words were everything you’d been hoping for, yet still felt surreal, like something out of a dream.

Slowly, you turned your hand over, offering it to him. Heeseung’s fingers entwined with yours, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way it felt so right.

He moved closer, his face just inches from yours now. His breath was warm against your skin, and his gaze flickered down to your lips. You could feel the tension building, the sweet anticipation that hung in the air.

“You’re everything I’ve been looking for,” he murmured.

Before you could respond, he closed the small gap between you, his lips pressing gently against yours. It was soft at first, tender, almost like he was testing the waters, unsure but hopeful. And when you kissed him back, it was like everything clicked into place. It was a kiss filled with all the unspoken words, the confessions you’d both been holding onto for far too long.

His hand moved to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss just slightly, his lips moving with yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm. The world outside the café ceased to exist. All that mattered was the closeness, the warmth between you, the way his lips felt against yours, the way your heart fluttered at each touch.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and smiling, Heeseung rested his forehead against yours. The soft, quiet sound of his laughter filled the space between you.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted, his voice a bit breathless, his hands still holding yours.

“I think I have an idea,” you teased, a smile playing on your lips.

“I’m serious,” Heeseung continued, his voice quieter now. “I’ve wanted this for so long, but I didn’t want to rush it. I didn’t want to mess things up with you.”

You shook your head, a small laugh escaping your lips. “You could never mess things up with me, Heeseung.”

There was a long, peaceful silence between you, the two of you simply holding hands across the table, the warmth of each other’s touch enough to silence the rest of the world.

Heeseung’s thumb traced small, comforting circles on the back of your hand, and his eyes softened as he looked at you.

“Whatever happens,” he said quietly, “I’m glad it’s you.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Me too.”

And for the first time in a long while, you felt like everything was falling into place. The season of change, of rediscovery, had brought you both together—and nothing else seemed more perfect than this moment, with him by your side.

Okkehyyyh ANYWAYYYYSSSS THAYS ALL I rushed this because I was bored in tech class… :$

I’m debating wether to make this a series or not

💌 Reblogs and comments are appreciated! 💌

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auclairedetoru · 3 days ago

Note

Hi! I saw your requests were open and I wanted to see if you could write something fluffy with Levi and a reader that’s shorter than him 🥺

Maybe something where he’s doting on them? I adore the idea of a cold Levi who’s soft for his partner and I’m part of the minority of people who is actually shorter than him lol. I see a lot of fics describing the reader as taller but not enough for the other shorties out here 🙂‍↕️

Finally. The end of the day.

Levi lets out a loud sigh as the door of his bedroom closes behind him. His head leans against it and his eyes close. After hours of training, meetings, monitoring, and doing a shit ton of paperwork, he's finally back to the comfort of his bedroom at exactly midnight.

He lifts his head back up and looks around the small space, an unfamiliar (to others at least) smile spreads on his face when his eyes land on the sleepy yet smiling person sitting on his bed.

“Welcome back home, Levi.”

God, their sweet voice makes him melt into a puddle every time. He can't believe he gets to call such a precious person his partner, he considers himself a very lucky man.

“I'm sorry I woke you up, my love.” he says gently as he takes off his jacket. They shake their head and watch him as he tries his best to take off the belts wrapped around his body as fast as possible, “it's okay, darling. I wasn't sleeping, you know I can't without you.”

Levi cups their face after he is done and leans down to press a soft kiss to their forehead. People would lose their mind if they saw the way he acts and talks to them, in fact, only the people he's closest to in the survey corps (which is very few) know about their relationship, it wouldn't even cross people's minds that the strong and stoic captain who doesn't care if he hurts anyone's feelings is dating the sweet and gentle nurse who once cried with a soldier while trying to stitch him up.

“Did you have a good day today? Any of those brats bothered you?” he caresses their soft cheeks with the pad of his thumbs, mesmerized by the way the light casts a warm glow on their face. They lean into his touch, their eyes closing in relaxation. “everything was okay. Jean and Eren even teamed up to help me carry the new supplies stock and put them on the high shelves for me.”

He chuckles softly and pulls away from them so he can quickly change into more comfortable clothes. He used to sleep in his uniform, belts and all, just in case something happens and he couldn't waste his time putting everything back on, most of the nights he didn't sleep to begin with, but ever since they started sharing the same bed, not only did he find himself falling asleep but he also invested in some soft night clothes so he can cuddle with them without any restrictions.

“Still refusing to use the stool I got you?” he smirks as he starts changing his clothes. They've been dating long enough for them to not care about being naked in front of the other.

“I don't need it! The boxes were just heavy!”

“Hmm, sure you don't,” he teases as he gets under the blanket on his side of the bed (which is obviously the one on the near the bedroom door) and pats his lap with two hands. They huff, followed by a small, almost inaudible "I'm not that short", yet they don't hesitate to straddle his thighs and nuzzle their face in his warm chest. He wraps his arms around their body and presses a kiss on top of their head.

“if you weren't so short you wouldn't be able to fit in my arms all snuggly,” he looks down at their face and smiles at the adorable sight of their cheek pressed firmly on his chest, probably so they're able to hear his heart beat, they told him before that it's their favourite sound, “look at you, you could fit in my pocket, I could take you everywhere with me.”

They look up at him with the sweetest look on their face, their pretty eyes soft and affectionate. He wishes he could freeze this moment and stay like this forever, no titans, no fighting, no heartbreak, just him relaxing with his beloved in his arms.

“Can I stay in your heart instead? I think I'll like it there more.”

Levi lets out a shaky sigh. He's not one to get emotional, he can't even remember the last time he cried because it's been so long, but at that moment he feels a tug at his heart strings and a lump form in his throat. He never thought he'd ever have someone who loves him unconditionally, who would stay up till the late hours waiting for him because they want him to be the last thing they see before they close their eyes, whose presence felt the closest to what he heard others describe as home, who looked past the walls he has up and saw someone worth all their patience.

“You know I can't have you stay anywhere else. I love you more than I've ever loved anything in my life.”

“More than tea?” they teasingly raise an eyebrow making him chuckle.

"Yes, my love. More than tea," he replies, gently brushing a strand of hair away from their eyes.

“More than cleaning?”

"now I don't know about that...”

“hey!”

Levi laughs loudly, a deep and hearty sound he never imagined would come from him before he met them. Their melodic giggles join his, filling the air with a positive energy he only experiences around them. At that moment, he feels his heart fill with a great amount of happiness, a feeling he always thought he didn't need, but now can never live without, and it makes him realise that he is now complete.

In the past, he thought that when he'd feel complete he would let go of everything, even life itself. But now, the thought of being separated from the love of his life terrifies him, and for the first time, he wants nothing more than to continue living and breathing, even if it means fighting those ugly monsters every single day.

Is life easy right now? No, Eren Jeager is still a big pain in his ass, and the whole situation with the titans keeps getting worse and worse, but now he gets to come home to moments like these, and they simply make everything better.

I lost the plot and didn't make this very focused on short!reader but it's there nonetheless! I love soft Levi who's a totally different person around his love 💕

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toxicanonymity · 20 hours ago

Note

Some Landlord ! Billy smut would be Perfect, if you have time. Thanks Tox 🥺

murderbait

BILLY LOOMIS x f!READER | 2k words | The Leak WARNINGS: 18+ sleazy landlord Billy, Gratuitous slutty descriptions. masturbation in public, detailed PIV fantasy, degradation, praise, banter and bickering, light enemies to lovers dynamic, manhandling, dom vibes, sexual tension, pet names, "protective" Billy. NOTES: Sure, nonnie. I offer this sleaze with love. 🖤🖤

In the middle of the night, you wake up sweaty despite being completely naked and using no covers. Without putting on any clothes, you walk to your kitchen to get a cold cup of water, only to see a stack of filled ice trays next to the sink because you forgot to put them in the freezer. Ugh.

You get a glass of water and stand in front of the fridge with the door open. The air conditioner in your window feels weaker every day. It’s so stuffy in your trailer, you wonder if you’d be better off with the window open. Still naked, you go to the kitchen window and slide it open. No matter how hard you push upward, it won’t click and stay.

“Piece of shit,” you mutter. But the fresh air does feel good.

Standing in the window with your arms raised, tits blazing, skin glistening…. something moves in the corner of your eye. There’s a fake security camera mounted on the shed you’re looking at. At least you always assumed it was fake, since the owners are such deadbeats. You give it the middle finger just in case, then use a pitcher to hold the window up.

You go back to bed for a while longer, then get up and rifle through your unfolded laundry, looking for a swimsuit. You find a bikini that appears to have shrunk, but it has adjustable strings so you put it on anyway. Next door, there’s an extended stay hotel that has a pool. It has a cracked and faded slide, no longer in use, and half the rungs are dangling from the pool ladders. It won’t be the first time you’ve snuck in there. No one seems to care, and no one’s going to be out at this hour anyway.

The pool water is normally warm by sunset, but in the middle of the night, it’s cooled off enough. A weakly-inflated flamingo pool float sits atop the water, and a couple of pool noodles hug the wall. Half the pool lights are working. There’s no way this would pass an inspection, but sometimes it feels like barely anyone outside the area knows it exists.

You sit on the side of the pool, and as you lower yourself into the water, you look down to see your hard nipples barely contained by the shrunken, unlined triangle top, with some areola showing on one breast. The sight of your own slutty fit turns you on, and you don’t fix it.

Kicking your legs out in front of you, you imagine Billy joining you. Billy and his dirty wifebeaters and trucker hats and jeans that fit too well. Billy and his slutty fucking selfies that you can’t stop looking at every night. Billy, and that look in his eyes like he could eat you up, if only he were hungry.

He’d be hungry right now, you bet. You turn to your side and use both feet to grab a pool noodle, letting yourself off the wall as you mount it. Straddling the pool noodle, you turn toward the wall and rest your forearms on the side and squeeze your thighs together.

Closing your eyes and resting your head, you fantasize about him. He’s a low-life and a sleaze, and god he makes it hot. The way he moves, it shouldn’t be hot at all, but you’ve been watching him closer ever since he sent those selfies, and when scratches his lower belly, lifting up his tank top, exposing his happy trail, at this point it drives you fucking crazy. Like that’s where you need your forehead. You tilt your hips for more pressure from the foam between your legs.

There’s not a single thing about him that says he’s a better guy than you thought, but maybe he is. Or more likely, you don’t care. Or, perhaps most likely, you kinda like him bad.

He’s not the kind of man you’d want in your life, but in your bed?

It’s so easy to picture his silhouette at the foot of your bed, scratching himself, then lewdly grabbing the massive bulge in his jeans.

Your hips begin to move on their own, seeking friction with the foam noodle.

You can see him kneeling onto your mattress, prowling toward you, arms flexing, chains hanging down from his neck, dangling in the air–god if you could feel those hit your skin. You can feel him grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand, while he unbuttons his jeans with the other.

You reach down and slide the pool noodle against your front, grinding your hips.

He’d probably lean in real close, say something cocky like, “you ready for this?” Ugh, his voice. With his dick in his hand. “Think ya can take it?” Yes, yes, please. He drops his thick meat heavily against your mound. Yes, please. God, please, you’d be squirming under him, wrists pinned by his hand, lifting your hips desperately. “Sure ya can handle this big cock?”

Fuck. It’s so clear, you can practically smell him. Your whole cunt throbs and you’re gushing in your bikini bottoms. “Mm,” you quietly hum as you get closer.

He’d shove himself into you, you’d arch your back and moan. He’d chuckle darkly, then his free hand would come to your jaw, dwarfing your face as he uses just two fingers and a thumb to squeeze your mouth open. The smell of cigarettes intensifies as his face hovers over yours, then he spits in your mouth. And he stays there, bottomed out, and you’ve never felt so full but you need the friction, you need him to move so bad, you need him to fuck you, you beg him to fuck you, really fuck you. “Yeah? Need me to fuck you?” God, yes.

“Mm,” your face screws up. You're so wet, and your clit twitches as you rub the front of your swimsuit with the foam cylinder you're straddling.

You can practically hear him say, “Poor baby.” He’s got half a smile, amused and in control. “Yeah I'll give it to ya,” he begins to slowly retreat, pauses with his cock half-withdrawn and lowers his pitch. “Who’s your daddy?”

The tension snaps and your lips part as you see stars.

Squeezing your thighs tight around the pool noodle, you ride it out, cumming to the thought of his girth stretching you with his gold chains dangling over you, hips beginning to move, jeans sitting loosely around his hips.

You weren’t planning on doing that, but, there you are, coming down off that high in the motel pool, in your shrunken bikini, skin buzzing, so tired and peaceful you could fall asleep.

And then metal scrapes against concrete, stirring you from your blissed out state.

A shadow moves.

His deep voice at a low volume, with that edge of condescension: "All done?”

Your stomach drops. You almost don’t want to look up, but you do. It’s his silhouette, manspreading in a worn-out chair, with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. The shadow of his stupid trucker hat hides his face. You let go of the pool noodle and try to subtly push it away, obviously too late. Frozen, heart racing, you’re standing with your chest above water.

“What are you doing here?” you demand.

“Don’t worry, I’m on my way out.” He stands up and stretches, revealing his happy trail. He twists in another stretch and god, his silhouette - his jeans bulging, clearly aroused. “An' so are you, c’mon.”

“I’m still cooling off,” you protest.

“I’ll bet.” He drops his cigarette into his can of beer and carries it with him as he approaches the pool with his face still in the shadow of his hat. Light reflects off his gold chains.

You make a fake effort to adjust your top and can’t take your eyes off his jeans. He adjusts himself and stands there giving you a moment.

Then he loses patience and says, “Alright, sugartits. Let’s go.”

He squats down and grabs you by the arm.

“Hey,” you protest as he starts to manhandle you toward the shallow stairs. “Alright, alright. Damn”

When you’re out of the pool, he looks you up and down. You feel like covering yourself up, but you defiantly stand with your hands on your hips.

“Tryin’ to turn tricks out here?” He slowly steps toward you and his eyes are glued to your chest. “Good place to do it….prolly make a few hooker friends too.”

“How many of’em have you fucked?” you retort.

He ignores the question and reaches for your chest.

Without blocking his hand, you look down and part of your nipple is showing again. He “fixes” your suit, tugging it over and thumbing your nipple while he’s at it. It covers your areola but leaves underboob.

“There ya go.”

He puts a toothpick in his mouth and motions for you to lead the way.

As you exit the pool area dripping wet, you mention, “If you’re gonna spy on me, you could bring me a towel next time.”

“Yeah, okay,” He mumbles with the toothpick at the corner of his mouth. “Just lookin’ out for ya’s all.”

“I don’t remember asking you to.”

He pulls the tab off his beer can and it replaces the cigarette that had been between his fingers. He throws the can into a bush.

As you reach the trailer park property line, he throws his toothpick into the shrubs and lowers his voice. “Listen sugar, there’s some shady fuckin’ characters over there.”

You scoff. “Apparently so.” you shoot him a look and can’t help but check him out while you’re at it. A harsh floodlight highlights the freckles on his big, tan shoulders.

He keeps on, “You tryin’ to get stabbed?”

“What?”

“Dumb as hell, sneakin’ over there, middle’a the night.”

Somehow, this makes you feel stupid. Like if he’s calling someone dumb... Damn.

You walk the rest of the way to your trailer in silence with him following slightly behind you.

“Lemme guess, ya left it unlocked, too,” he mutters, then opens your door himself. “Fuckin’ murderbait over here,” he grumbles.

He stands with his back to the open door and waits, making your body brush his as you walk in.

Full body goosebumps.

He stands there looking at you, and you eye his pants. Slowly, he steps into your personal space, and you back up almost to the nearest wall, but not against it. There, you stop. Letting him close. With his hand on the wall, he effectively traps you, blocking you from going any further into your trailer.

The smell of Newports fills your nostrils. He wets his lips and looks from your eyes to your chest, then your mouth.

He brings his nose to your neck and barely grazes you as he takes a long sniff. His nose brushes your cheek, and his lips follow. Just above a whisper, he warns, “Don’t do it again.”

When you don’t answer, he pulls back and his hand comes to your neck. He’s gentle, not applying any pressure, but the presence of his large, strong hand is enough to feel like a threat. One that makes you more turned on than scared. “Got it?” he asks, looking at your mouth. Can’t be sure if he’s talking about going over there alone or leaving your trailer unlocked, and it doesn’t really matter. His eyes are wild, and it’s like he’s inspecting you, marveling at your face.

You whisper, “Yes sir,” and await his next move.

He takes his hand from your neck and cups your cheek to whisper, “Good girl.”

You could actually melt.

He gives your chest another look and drops his hand, incidentally brushing his wrist against your breast before he pulls up his jeans. He bites the aluminum tab and turns to leave without another word. As he walks away, your eyes are drawn to a glock sticking out of the back of his pants.

He looks back at you and winks before shutting the door behind himself.

-----

------

Thank you for reading! I appreciate your interest and engagement with him so much.

Please take care of yourselves ♥️

#billy loomis x reader #landlord!billy loomis #billy loomis smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#scream fanfic #slasher x reader #sleazy!billy loomis #slasher smut

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nayedoll · 18 hours ago

Text

You’re all I want

joost klein x fem!reader

description: Joost and reader experience the hardships of a relationship, until their biggest fight yet— which is resolved by some much needed make-up sex

word count: 2.7k

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut; f!receiving oral, protected piv,

───────────────────────

The moonlight creeps in through the window, your only source of light in the dark room. Not that you needed much light anyways; for the past twenty minutes you’ve been staring at the wall across from you, your thoughts filling the emptiness. All the hurtful words Joost said, all the blame he put on you; all the things you said to him, things that you didn’t mean but in the heat of the moment, didn’t care to think twice about them— it’s all there, eating you alive, digging holes into your heart.

Deep down, you know this fight was bound to happen at some point, it had to. Joost working endlessly from day to night for the past month, being gone for hours, along with your already packed schedule that never seemed to overlap with his— it had definitely created a certain tension in the air. If you were lucky enough, you’d only see him in the early mornings and late at night. Naturally, all the pressure, all your worries, the exhaustion of it all would lead you both to take it out on each other— you didn’t mean to, but after a long day, every little thing seemed to irritate you, before it turned into yet another fight.

But this— this had been your biggest fight yet. It had started out as per usual, one of you complaining about something you can’t even remember now, before in a matter of minutes, it had turned into a meaningless competition about who “works more” , who’s “more tired”, who “cares more” about the other one; it was so meaningless but so hurtful at the same time. Joost’s voice still lingers in your mind, the heavy silence in the room after he accused you of not caring about him, of not loving him. Then of course, all the awful things you said in return, trying to fix things by defending yourself but making them worse in the heat of the moment.

Joost eventually left; presumably off to the balcony to smoke a cigarette like he always does when he’s stressed out or mad. Usually, you’d leave him be and ask him about it later but now… now you know exactly why he’s upset, and to realize that you’re the reason for it makes your chest hurt. Your eyes start getting watery again as you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, when you hear a knock at the bedroom door; you don’t bother to reply, already knowing who’s the one knocking.

The door opens reluctantly, the yellowish light of the hallway peeking into the room as Joost steps in, in his grey sweatpants, the graphic hoodie you’d gotten him for his birthday that probably carries the scent of his camels now.

He stands by the door for a second, “Were you sitting in the dark this whole time?” His voice is calmer than before, strangely comforting even after everything.

You ignore his question, turning your head to gaze at the cloudy night sky out the window. Hearing him walk over to you, the bed sinking as he sits down facing you. He opens the bedside lamp with a faint click noise, painting the room in a dim yellow light.

You feel Joost caressing your thigh, immediately drawing your gaze back to him,

“You know I didn’t mean those things, right?” He gives you a weak smile, a hint of regret hidden in his eyes.

You sigh, “I don’t know. Did you?” You try to make your voice firm, but the sadness is obviously there, indicating that you’ve been crying.

“No,” He shakes his head repeatedly, as if he’s scolding himself. “No, of course not liefde,” Liefde. At least, he still calls you that— hadn’t heard it from him in what feels like forever.

You stare at him, images from your argument flashing through your mind; all the things you called him, asshole, douchebag, selfish, ungrateful— but at the end of the day, he’s still your Joost, walking into your bedroom to apologize, like a kid asking their parents to sleep in bed with them.

You purse your lips, attempting to hide the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Okay. I believe you,”

Joost also smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he hugs you. You wrap an arm around him, stroking his back, allowing yourself to melt into his touch. “I’m sorry,” He mumbles, his lips grazing your ear as he caresses your hair, leaving another kiss to your temple.

You smile, letting out a dry chuckle. “It’s okay. I wasn’t any better either,”

His kisses don’t stop, but rather his lips wander off to your cheek, then lower to your jaw, before he’s fully kissing you again. You kiss him back slowly— it feels somewhat different, in a good way; like all the doubts and fears have left and the only thing present is pure love, just you and the Joost you fell in love with, his lips on yours.

He pulls back shortly after, leaving you to take a deep breath. “Lie down for me baby,” His tone is soft, yet compelling and you can’t help but do as he says, wordlessly leaning back onto the pillow. He slightly hovers over you, takes his shirt off in a quick motion as you stare up at him; perfection, that’s what he is to you. And it hurts to think that he doesn’t realize how much you love him, and how precious he, and this relationship is to you.

“You’re so pretty,” You say as your fingers stroke his hairy chest.

He chuckles, a shy smile gracing his lips. “Not as pretty as you,” He leans lower to kiss you, propping himself up on one hand, burying himself in your neck. There, he kisses you more, open-mouthed kisses and soft bites on your skin that are sure to stain your neck with hickeys. You sigh in pleasure, opening your legs to give him more space. Joost wastes no time as he adjusts himself atop you, until his crotch is right above yours. You can feel him through his sweatpants, his hard-on evident even over the soft fabric of your pajama shorts. Breathing deeply when the tip of his cock brushes against your crotch, an action than repeats itself, causing you both to let out a mixture of sounds that fill the room.

“Missed this,” Joost mumbles, his lips still roaming around your neck. “Missed hearing you like this,”

“I know,” You breathe out. If only he could hear your thoughts right now; he’d see how much of a toll this situation had taken on you, having him be so close to you but so far at the same time.

You feel his cock twitch, the sensation coaxing a sharp breath out of you. He raises your shirt up to your collarbones, cupping your boobs in his soft hands; his touch makes you dizzy, the way he handles your body. Wet kisses on your pulse, your moans getting louder and harder to suppress with each thrust of his body.

“Fuck,” He laughs against your neck, “Need you,” He draws back from your neck to look at you; you probably look like a dumb puppy looking up at him, unable to suppress your smile— you really did miss him that much, and now it feels so good having him this close again, almost like it’s not real.

“What?” You laugh.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?”

A sudden heat rushes through you, a pinkish color spreading across your face. “Nah, you were too busy fighting with me for that,” You tease.

He laughs, “Fuck you,”

“That’s what I’m waiting for,” You protest.

Joost clicks his tongue before he finally pushes himself back up, now stabilizing himself on his knees on the mattress, “You horny woman,” He chastises, shaking his head in feigned disapproval as he begins to take off his sweatpants.

You stare at him wordlessly, only a soft smile lingering on your lips. He’s breathing heavily as he lowers his grey sweatpants down to his knees, before he does the same thing with this his boxers, his cock springing free.

He pats your thigh, “Let’s take these off,” You slightly lift yourself up so that Joost can slip your pajama shorts off, tossing them somewhere on the floor. Your panties feel wet, momentarily sticking to your skin as he begins to lower them down your legs, and suddenly, you’re both so exposed, yet so comfortable in each other’s presence.

“The most beautiful body,” Joost coos, a smirk tugging at his lips as he places a kiss to your belly. “And face of course,” Another kiss to your cheek.

“Oh please,” You scoff at the cheesiness, despite how much you secretly love it when he gets like this.

Joost chuckles, parting your legs a little more. He presses two fingers on your clit, gently rubbing it in circles, causing your breath to hitch. Smirking to himself as he nuzzles his face against your thighs, his hot breath on your pussy.

You take a look, the mere image of Joost snuggled up between your legs enough for you to abandon any hesitation or grudge against him.

You tousle his hair, fingers entangled between his blonde locks. His tongue teases your clit, your legs jerking at the tingling sensation before Joost hooks his arms around them, keeping them parted and steady.

“Relax,” His deep voice vibrates through your core, and you sigh; relax? Was that even possible in this scenario? Weeks of fighting, of not touching each other, and you’re supposed to relax? You feel so vulnerable, so sensitive that even a soft kiss to your clit is enough to make you squirm under him.

“Go on,” You say, your voice whiny.

A smirk tugs at his lips; you feel his tongue delve inside you, gently at first before his lips fully envelop your pussy; you watch as Joost eats you out, keeping his eyes locked in yours the entire time. Your moans get louder, quicker before you’re full-on whimpering with the way he handles you.

You tug at his hair strands, too drawn by your own pleasure to apologize for possibly hurting him. Your legs begin to shake, squeezing Joost’s head even tighter, back arching at the overstimulation; you’re close, so close actually that before you can even say anything to him, you reach your orgasm with a loud yelp. Joost persists, the lingering sensation of his mouth on you making your brain go numb.

He hums against your pussy, lapping it with his tongue one final time before he pulls back, lips glossy and his cheeks a vibrant pink; he smiles, blue eyes lighting up at the sight of you, blissed out, trying to catch your breath. Smiling because he’s the only one who can make you feel like this, bring those sweet sounds out of you, make you feel so good even after breaking your heart.

He sits his face on your stomach; now he’s the one who looks like a puppy. You chuckle, furrowing your brows,

“What is it,”

Joost’s eyes flicker to your boobs, then to your face again as he groans. “I need to fuck you,”

“So romantic,”

“Always,” He rises up from his position, reaching over to the bedside table, in hopes to find a condom in one of the drawers; lucky for you both, there’s a last one in there, tossed between other things. Joost takes the condom, using his teeth to tear the wrapper open before he slips it on.

You once again bend your knees, a new wave of arousal washing over you at the thought of what’s to come.

Joost grabs the base of his cock as he comes forward, lining himself up with your entrance, not before he swipes his shaft over your folds in a quick motion, earning a small moan from you.

“Ready?” He asks in a soft voice, thoughtful of your sensitivity.

“Yeah,”

With that, he pushes himself inside of you at a slow speed. You gasp, your back arching as his cock moves further into your core.

“Feels so good already,” His tone is low, breathy, it makes your head dizzy. He once again slowly pulls out of you, until only the tip is teasing your hole, before he sinks into you at an unprompted speed that draws a sharp moan out of both of you.

He continues the pattern, sweet nothings muttered in between each deep thrust. You can’t help the choked sobs that fall from your lips as he fucks you so perfectly, with so much care and love behind his strong grasp on your waist. One of his hands reaches up to cup your boob, softly playing with it as leans forward to press a kiss to your jaw. He feels sweaty, his shallow breaths hot against your skin.

You hear him mumble something incoherent from between your neck, slightly straining your neck to look at him. “Huh?”

He raises his head a little, propping himself up on his hands so that he’s able to look down at you,

“I love you,” He says, gritting his teeth as he picks up the pace, “I’m sorry liefde,” Guilt lingering on his voice.

You smile, “Joost it’s- it’s okay,” You breathe out, hardly getting the words out with how fast he’s thrusting his cock into you; if his words weren’t so sweet, you’d think he was mad at you given his unforgiving pace. “It’s over now,” You reassure him, kissing him sloppily.

“My baby, I love you so much,” He says in your ear, his voice strained. You embrace him, not caring about how suffocating his heavy body feels atop you. The room feels even hotter than before, the air sticking to your body like a magnet.

“Fuck Joost,” You blurt out, a loud cry slipping from your lips as he hits the most perfect spot inside of you, your climax unmistakably close. “I love you- too,”

Joost’s cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppier, “Yeah? Say it again baby,”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” You repeat as you’re hit with a sudden wave of pleasure, erupting in loud moans. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting yourself ride out your high, incoherent words expressing all the love for him along the way.

Joost is breathing heavily against your neck, groaning as he uses every last bit of energy to push himself into you, the dirty sound of slapping skin filling the room. At last, he comes inside of you, his drawn out, breathy moan ringing in your ears.

He pulls out of you, before returning to hugging you. Your strenuous breaths fill the silence of the room, as you drink in your afterglow. You take this moment to cuddle him, your chin touching his hair as he lays his head on your chest, taking a moment to think.

“I’m so lucky to have you,”

A smile graces your lips, “Me too,” Playing with his hair as he plants soft kisses along your collarbone. “Please, let’s not let it get this bad again,” You whisper, caressing his cheek.

He nods, smiling softly. “Okay,” Letting his head rest on your chest again as you drown in your thoughts.

───────────────────────

tysm for readinggahhhsg… this is honestly not the best thing I’ve written, but its okay 🧘‍♀️🧘‍♀️ looking back at this now, i feel like the smut should have been longer ughhh

#joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost klein rpf #joost klein #joost #fics

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raven-dor · 3 days ago

Text

when you light the candle

in which gwayne hightower finds love in the arms of the targaryen heir, rhaenyra’s daughter

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x targaryen!reader

WARNINGS: arranged marriage, allusion to slight nsfw, typical HOTD language, Aegon being a creep, fluff!!

WORD COUNT: 6.4k

AN: in this fic, viserys is dead and rhaenyra became queen (YAY) but her peaceful accession came with a price... also ages for gwayne and alicent are different because i thought it would be weird to have a huge disgusting age gap!!

“My dear-” Rhaenyra sighed.

“I understand my duty as heir, Mother, but that does not mean I cannot express my grievances.” Her daughter crossed her arms. “You cannot blame me for being hesitant. A Hightower, really?” Her face contorted with disgust. “It feels as if I am being condemned to death.”

“Y/N…” Rhaenyra fought the urge to laugh. She often forgot how alike she and her daughter were. “My darling girl, I am sorry, truly, but our kingdom needs stability, and this marriage will see to that. You must-”

“Like I said earlier,” Y/N snapped back, sitting down rather unladylike. “I understand, no need to explain it any further.”

“Yes well… for what it is worth, I have heard he is a rather kind man.” Rhaenyra scoffed, plucking a grape off the vine. “Shocking for a knight, I think.”

Y/N smiled to herself, staring into the distance. “I seem to remember one such knight.”

While her daughter may have resembled her in personality and stature, much like her brothers, Y/N was the spitting image of her father. “He was very kind, yes.” Rhaenyra sat beside the young woman, pushing a stray hair behind her ear gently. “And loving.” She whispered. “Your father loved you very much.”

Y/N nodded. “I know, Mother.” Holding her hand, she smiled. “He loved you just as much.”

Rhaenyra could not find it in herself to speak, simply nodding.

Y/N straightened her dress for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour, or at least that is what it felt like for Jacaerys, who was watching in amusement.

“I fear if you pull on your fabric anymore, it will fall off.”

She rolled her eyes, shoving her brother harshly. “When you are of age and put on display for all the eligible young ladies to gawk and stare at, tell me, dear brother, how calm and collected you feel then.”

“Nervous?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “It is showing, I must say.”

“For the entirety of the court to judge me for this ridiculous dress?” She jutted her hip, glaring. “Not in the slightest.”

He sighed, extending his arm for her to hold as the grand doors opened. He leaned over whispering in her ear comfortingly. “You’re a dragon, sister. Do not forget it.”

Taking a deep breath, she stood as straight as possible, smiling like she hadn’t just been spiraling. “Quite a lot of green in this crowd.” Y/N muttered, waving politely as she passed her subjects.

Jacaerys scoffed. “I expect you’ll be seeing much more in the coming weeks now that you’re marrying a Hightower.”

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes, pinching his arm discreetly. He hissed, and she laughed as their mother watched from the high table, suppressing a grin. Bowing before their mother, step father, and the Dowager Queen, both tried to sneak a peek at her husband to be.

Y/N smiled as they stood upright. “Your Majesties.”

Alicent smiled half-heartedly. It was better than nothing, she supposed. Her brothers did not receive the same treatment, the smiles, the ‘good will’. The Dowager Queen had always had a soft spot for Y/N.

Why, she had no idea.

Taking their place beside their mother, Rhaenyra stood, addressing the crowd. “It was not long ago that I myself was in this position. Marriage is work, marriage is patience. Fortunately, my daughter seems to have much more patience than I.” Laughter fell over the crowd, and Rhaenyra gestured toward the Dowager Queen and her family that sat beside her. “Our houses have long been allies, and I am glad to continue that tradition with this union.” She raised her glass, smiling at her daughter as she spoke. “May their marriage be blessed!”

The crowd raised their glasses in unison, cheering for the Princess, who was smiling brightly, the very picture of nobility and duty. None of them knew the truth: how she really had no idea who she was marrying or what exactly she was getting into.

After what felt like minutes of applause, Y/N sat down, indulging herself in a rather full cup of mead. “My lady.” She turned around, her breath catching at the sight of the man in front of her.

He was quite tall, and handsome.

“I wanted to introduce myself.”

She smiled, setting her glass down. “You must be Lord Hightower.”

He nodded. “You are quite intuitive.”

Oh. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Or observant. It does not take a mastermind to see the resemblance between you and your sister.”

That was the other thing she could not get passed. Yes, she was two and twenty, practically an old maid, but did that really mean she could get married off to a man only two years younger than her mother?

Lord Hightower did not look disheartened. If anything, her resistance to his ‘charm’ made him more intrigued. “I wonder, my lady, if I could interest you in a dance?”

Y/N smiled, annoyance all but rolling off of her shoulders. “I believe-”

Rhaenyra cut in, staring at her daughter with an intensity that rivaled her dragon. “I’m sure the Princess would be delighted to dance with you, Ser Gwayne.”

“Yes.” Y/N smiled tightly. “I would love to.”

Gwayne extended his hand, bowing his head, slightly. “My lady.”

She took his hand, following him to the dance floor. The rest of the nobility followed after, the waltz gently playing in the background as they moved around the room. Gwayne leaned down, whispering in her ear. “You seem rather upset with this arrangement, Princess.”

She tried not to scowl. “I am merely upset that yet another choice of my life has been decided for me.” Her eyes widening, realizing she had just told her husband to be something she had only told her family. “I-”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Do not apologize to me. If I were in your position, I would be equally as frustrated, perhaps more.” He whispered again. “I’m rather passionate about these sorts of things.”

The Princess raised an eyebrow, curious. “You are passionate about what exactly?”

“Anything you are.” He spun her around, laughing at her flushed cheeks. “I plan to be very supportive of my wife, unlike many of my peers.”

Her heart fluttered, but her face told a different story. “How… kind of you ser.”

Jace squinted his eyes, glaring at the Hightower man. “I don’t trust him, mother.”

Rhaenyra laughed, appreciative of her son’s protectiveness. “You must know Jacaerys, that I would never match your sister with a man I did not consider to be of high moral character.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you believe me cruel?”

“No.” Jace shook his head, looking back to the man charming his sister. Or, trying to at the very least. “But still…”

He hadn’t even kissed her on the lips. It kept racing through her mind as she sat front and center at her reception. At their reception. He hadn’t even kissed her on the lips. She had been walked up the aisle by her brother, stood beside him, prepared herself, and he kissed her on the corner of her mouth.

What sort of kiss was that?

She was confused, unbelievably confused.

“Are you alright, Princess?” Gwayne whispered.

She nodded, not knowing whether to feel offended or relieved at his hesitation. “Fine.”

“Do you need a moment? Perhaps we can-”

Of course. He wanted to retire and start the bedding process. She almost scoffed in his face. “I need to find my mother.” She didn’t wait for a response, standing up and walking into the crowd. Her mother was fixed in the back of the room, talking with Baela and Jace. Y/N approached her mother, hooking her arm through hers. “May I talk to you?” She gestured toward the two teenagers. “Alone.”

Rhaenyra nodded slowly, shooing the young couple away. “Are you alright?”

“I-” Y/N pulled her mother to a secluded area of the hall. “He wants to retire.”

“He wants to-” The older woman’s face dawned with realization. “I see.”

Y/N nodded. “I-” She gulped, whispering. “I’m scared, Mother.”

Rhaenyra smiled, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. “My sweet girl. Don’t be frightened. Truly.” She pulled away, placing a comforting hand on her cheek. “He will not touch you until you are ready, I am most certain of it.”

“Mother, he is a lord, like any other we’ve come to know. He will-”

“Do you trust me?” Rhaenyra whispered.

Y/N nodded, grasping her mother’s hand tightly. “Of course I do.”

“Then trust me once more. Your husband is a good man, and he will not touch you unless you…” She paused. “He will not touch you, unless that is what you wish.”

Ah.

Y/N felt torn. He was attractive, she had to admit, and kind enough. But still, she hadn’t wanted to… not again. She squeezed her eyes shut, murmuring under her breath. “He’ll, he’ll find out-”

She had put her trust in the wrong squire. She was only ten and five and he was sweet, or so she thought. She'd trusted him, and he had used her for his moment of fame, a way to coerce the Royal Family. Daemon had gone manic when he had found out, and the squire… Rhaenyra shook her head. “He will never know unless you choose to tell him.”

Y/N nodded, smiling weakly. “Goodnight, Mother.” Spinning on her heels, she stalked toward the main table, standing in front of Gwayne. “Shall we?”

Her husband looked shocked but still nodded. The crowd started jeering, laughing, and making comments about the Princess’s eagerness. That hadn’t made her disturbed.

What disturbed her was that in a few moments, the entirety of the royal court would all be in their shared quarters, watching the bedding ceremony.

It had been a silent walk, neither of them making an attempt to speak to the other. The maid’s eyes all but fell out of their sockets when they saw the Princess burst through their doors, Lord Hightower diligently following three paces behind her.

Gwayne had sensed his wife was an anxious woman the moment they’d met, but tonight, that anxiety was pouring off of her in waves. He smiled kindly at the servants, dismissing them from their work. “That will be all for tonight, thank you.” They scurried out, leaving the pair alone for the first time. He looked curiously at the young woman, who was pacing around the room. Taking a careful step toward her, he spoke softly. “Are you quite alright, my lady?”

“Why-” She stopped, staring at him. “You didn’t kiss me.”

“I-”

“I understand that I am quite homely compared to the beauties of Oldtown, but…” She shook her head, stalking toward him with an accusing finger pointed. “You embarrassed me at my own wedding. The least you could have done-”

“You are not homely, my lady.” He reached a hand out, caressing her cheek. “Quite the opposite really.”

She tensed, pulling out of his touch. “You Hightowers- you’re always planning something. I am the heir to the Iron Throne, and you would treat me as a common woman, not worthy of your love or respect. Even if I wasn’t heir, you should never treat a woman-”

She was quite beautiful, he’d noticed. Watching her rant about his family filled his heart with something he couldn’t quite place. Her eyes were passionate, full of fire and drive. Her hair was quite beautiful while it was down, so dark and full.

“Are you- are you even listening to me?”

Gods, she had caught him staring. “I-”

“I’m sure you are fantasizing about how you will take me during the bedding ceremony, but I assure you, this will be the most uninteresting moment of our married life. Hopefully, I will embarrass you as much as you embarrassed me.” She crossed her arms, satisfied with her dig at his supposed thoughts. While he struggled to find the words to respond, she began to remove her clothes, remaining covered by her thin slip.

His cheeks grew red, and he raised his eyebrows, trying not to combust. “Bedding ceremony?” Gwayne coughed. His voice sounded as if it was being squeezed.

“Are you playing dumb?” She scoffed. “I am sure you have been to plenty a poor maiden’s wedding night.”

He tilted his head, thoroughly confused. “I’m sorry if you have been led astray, but there is to be no bedding ceremony.”

“Ah.” She somehow felt… disappointed? “My mother saved me that embarrassment at least.”

“Well, it was actu-” She stormed past him, slipping on her robe and slippers. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you. I don’t trust you not to-”

While she was stunningly beautiful and quickly driving him into a stupor, he could not stand by and let her assume the worst of him. “Listen to me when I say this- I do not ever wish to embarrass you. Ever. It was I who denied the bedding ceremony. The ‘men’ of the court brought the proposition to me, and when I denied them…” His eyes became dark. “That is a disgusting and vile tradition, one that I do not wish to practice.”

She felt warm, and caught herself smiling. Shaking her head, she pulled her robe closer to her body. “You- you vex me.”

He laughed, stepping closer to her, a smirk gracing his handsome face. “You vex me just as much.” He held her hand, kissing the back gently. “My lady.”

“You-” She growled, stomping her foot like a child. “Good night my lord.” Whipping around, she practically flew out the door, leaving Gwayne alone in their chambers.

Saying farewell had proven to be much more difficult than she had thought. But wearing green… she felt like an imposter. She looked down the line, forcing herself not to laugh at Aegon’s fresh black eye. He refused to make eye contact with her, she could not figure out why. The only Greens she had bothered saying goodbye to were Helaena and the Dowager Queen, ignoring her two uncles. They never cared for each other, if anything, she would be glad to be rid of their presence.

Her brothers stood in a row, each growing sadder as she approached them. Aegon and Viserys did not understand why she was leaving, too young to understand the impact this would have on their family. Joffrey was visibly melancholy, clinging to his sister tightly. He whispered, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Don’t leave me.”

Y/N smiled, kneeling down to be eye level with her little brother. “I will never leave you, Joff. I’ll visit you often, I promise.” She kissed his cheek gently, standing back up, approaching the two eldest. “Behave yourselves.” They looked at her with watery eyes and stoic faces. “Take care of Mother and the boys. I expect-” They both lunged forward, hugging her tightly. She laughed, ruffling their hair. “It will be alright. I’ll be back.”

Luke’s face was wet, and he mumbled into the fabric of her dress. “No you won’t.”

She scoffed. “I will. You just wait and see.”

Jace let go, crossing his arms accusingly. “You’ll be busy, I imagine. Taking care of your family.”

Y/N reached out, grasping his hand tightly. “You are my family. Always. I will always be your sister, you can confide in me until we are old and grey. The city of Oldtown is always open to you.”

She looked back to Gwayne, who nodded firmly, stepping forward to address the princes. “She is correct. Visit whenever you like.” He looked to Y/N, whispering. “We should depart soon.”

She nodded, looking back to her siblings. “I must leave.”

Lucerys let go, wiping away the leftover tears that clung to his cheeks. “I’ll write to you.”

She smiled. “Nothing would please me more.”

Gwayne held his arm out, but Y/N ignored him, approaching Jacaerys carefully. “I will miss you.”

He nodded, staring at the ground. “And I you.”

“Jace,” she sighed. “I do not wish to leave you upset.”

“I am not upset.” He scoffed.

She laughed, shaking her head affectionately. “I suppose your watery eyes are simply a result of hay fever.”

His shoulders shook slightly, a smile peeking out from behind his frown. “Have a safe trip sister.”

She nodded, kissing his forehead gently. “You will be one for the history books, I know it.”

Taking Gwayne’s arm, she looked back at her family one last time before entering the carriage.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

He smiled. “Whatever for?”

“I know you hit Aegon.” She crossed her arms, smirking. “I assume he was one of the ‘men’ who asked you about the bedding ceremony. Am I right?” He nodded. “That is quite noble of you.”

His cheeks grew red. “Merely protecting your honor, my lady.”

She smiled, reaching her hand out, holding his hand for a moment. “You are a much better man than most.”

“It is not hard to do…” He whispered, his eyes kind. “When one has you as a wife.”

Oldtown had done nothing for the couple’s relationship, if anything, it had dwindled it back down into the nothingness it once was. Gwayne was busy running the city in the wake of his uncle’s death, and Y/N, she knew no one. After becoming the Lady Hightower, her old ladies in waiting were taken away, as she was now too low of a position to house that many young ladies for ‘seemingly no reason.’ That had made no sense to her. She was heir to the Iron Throne, how was she at ‘too low of a position?’ Still…

She was utterly alone.

She had tried to make an effort, at first. Gwayne had appreciated it, (as evident from his words at dinner), but he was constantly busy, off in meetings or dealing with skirmishes in the city. Perusing the halls of the castle had passed the time for the first fortnight of her arrival. She loved the way the tower seemingly never ended, even when she reached the attic. It felt infinite, full of new corridors she’d never seen before.

That too grew tiring.

It began to feel so when she came to know the halls of the tower as well as the back of her own hand.

After a rather dreary morning, she meticulously planned her escape. Sneaking away from the watchful eye of her assigned guards, she raced towards the stable, mounting her horse and galloping through the great gates. The citizens of Oldtown stared, murmuring about their new lady. Y/N laughed, not caring to think of their opinions as long as the breeze ran through her hair and the sun shone on her face. The surrounding land smelled fresh, unlike that of King’s Landing. She had no real destination, following the well traveled path until she reached a clearing. Tying her horse to a nearby tree, she strolled down the hill, meeting the most tranquil scene she’d ever been graced with in her life. A large lake, rivaling that of the ocean, laid before her, a small island in the middle of it all.

She removed her robe and garments, haphazardly tossing them on a nearby log. Practically falling into the lake, the water quieted the world around her. A sort of gargled voice rang through the peaceful quiet and she jumped, standing up in the lake to meet her husband's wide eyes.

“My lord.” She smiled weakly.

“A guard informed me that my wife was last seen racing out of Oldtown’s gates.” His voice held a sort of humor. “Naturally, I had to investigate the incident myself.”

She laughed, clutching herself for warmth. “I am sorry if I worried you.”

He shook his head. “There is no need to apologize, my lady.” He picked up her robe, extending his hand. She took it gratefully, wrapping the warm cloth around her. “In fact, no one would fault you if you had left. If that is in fact-”

“No!” She yelled, covering her mouth with her hand in shock. “I meant…” She stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. “I am quite content, my lord. I wanted respite. From the tower.”

He nodded, holding her hand in his. “You are shivering.”

“I am quite fine, my lord.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I have never known shivering to end in any sort of ‘fine,’ my lady.” He smiled, extending his arm. “Shall we?”

The couple walked in silence for a moment, enjoying each other's presence. Y/N looked up, clearing her throat. “May I request something of you?”

Gwayne nodded eagerly. “Anything.”

Y/N smiled, warmth blooming inside of her chest. “Call me by my name, please. I don’t think I can go another day being addressed as my lady.” She whispered, staring at the ground. “It is quite formal, is it not? For a husband and wife, that is.”

“I would like that.” Gwayne smiled, lifting her chin with a single finger. “As long as you call me by mine in return.”

She nodded, fighting the blush that threatened to form. He was rather beautiful, with his freckles and long hair. “I believe that can be arranged.”

“Gwayne!” She called out for what felt like the fifth time. She had missed his company in truth, and hadn’t seen him in what felt like weeks. (It had been a mere day.)

“Gwayne?” She pushed open a cracked door, grinning. “Are you-” She frowned. The room was empty, except for a portrait. She felt pulled forward, walking further into the room. The woman was stern looking, but beautiful, there was no doubt in her mind. The portraits eyes were bright blue, piercing the very soul who dared to look back at her.

“I see you found my mother.”

Y/N clutched her chest, whipping around. “You frightened me!”

He laughed, walking forward and kissing the back of her hand gently. “I apologize.” His tone was soft, quiet as a mouse. “Did I truly scare you?”

She shook her head, their eyes locked in a dangerous embrace. "So this is your mother?”

He nodded, turning towards the portrait. “My father commissioned it mere months before she died.” He smiled, tightening his hold on her hand. “When I was younger, I would find him in here, staring at her likeness." He laughed to himself. "They were quite the couple.”

“I’m sure you miss her terribly.”

Gwayne’s shoulders tensed. “In truth, it has been so long that I have forgotten what her presence felt like.”

That had made her frown even more. “I understand.”

He nodded. “It is difficult. Trying to remember a parent you hardly knew.”

Y/N’s eyes watered. “Quite.” Taking a deep breath, she turned towards her husband, her voice low. “You look like the very image of her. Your mother.”

He smiled. “Is that a compliment, dear wife?”

She blushed, shrugging as nonchalantly as she could. “She is quite beautiful.”

“Ah.” Gwayne was now fully grinning. “The same could be said about you.”

Her blush vanished, and she shoved him away, rolling her eyes playfully. “Do not tease me, Gwayne Hightower.”

His hand grasped his heart, following after her like a lost puppy. “I would never.”

The Oldtown Library was the very picture of tranquility. Lord and Lady Hightower had chosen to take advantage of the quiet day, and had been simply enjoying each other’s company for hours. It was so rare to have this time together, and Y/N enjoyed knowing that at any moment, she could call out to her husband and he would answer.

She hoped he felt the same.

Her legs ached, having been in this position for so long had caused one of them to go numb. Stretching her legs, she walked over to the bookshelf, scouring for a novel she had read in King’s Landing. She groaned, crossing her arms in annoyance. Of course, the novel was on the tallest shelf.

Reaching up, she made herself as tall as possible, but it was no use. She huffed, whipping around to ask Gwayne for help.

It was like he had already read her mind, because she ran into his solid chest, gasping at the sudden impact. She knew her cheeks were bright red, but she still looked up at his piercing gaze.

He smirked, whispering. “Would you like some help?”

“I-” She bit her lip. “My book. I fear it is too high for me to reach.”

“I believe…” He reached up, staring at her all the while. “That I can be of some assistance.” The book was in his grasp, but she made no move to pull it out of his hands.

“Thank you.” She whispered back. Her back was now fully against the bookshelf, Gwayne inches away from her. “Are you- Are you quite alright, my lord?”

Gods, she was perfection itself, her tone sending shivers down his spine. “What have I told you about calling me my lord?” He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. “As of late, I find myself…”

She nodded, eager for him to continue. “Yes?”

“I- I find myself wanting for you. Wanting to be near you, wanting to feel your touch…” He laughed. “It is quite intoxicating. You have captivated me, body and soul.”

She felt as if her very skin was on fire. Her heart skipped, Gods, is this what marriage was like? She wanted to capture his lips against hers and bring him to bed. “Gwayne… I-” Of course, doubts flew through her mind. How many women had he said this to before? How many more would he say this to during their marriage? “You do not mean that.”

“I-” He tilted his head. “I do not mean that you have-”

“I am not… you don’t-” Her eyes started to tear up. “Gwayne, I am not-”

He leaned down, capturing her in a passionate kiss. Her eyes widened, and she sighed, falling into his arms, which tightened around her waist every moment they kissed. “You are. Gods, if I could worship you, I would-”

She placed a finger over his lips, silencing him. “Do not say such things.”

He removed her finger from her mouth, kissing her hand gently. “You will find, dear wife, that I am not a liar. You are as divine as the-”

Her finger found its way back over his lips. She laughed at his expression, still as calm and patient as the day she met him. There was something new however, a passion she hadn’t seen before. “You- Do you have any idea the things I-” She squeezed her eyes shut, telling herself to be brave. “Just-” She surged forward, pulling him back down into her lips.

His eyes widened, but he did not fight her, if anything, he had pulled her closer. His arms felt perfect around her waist, she’d thought as his thumb caressed her ribcage. He pulled away from her lips, whispering. “What have I done to deserve you?”

She sucked a breath in. “I- I need to go.”

His eyebrows furrowed, loosening his grip. “Are you alright?”

“I just-” She nodded, smiling weakly. “I have a meeting with Lady Redwyne, she-” She turned away, walking towards the door. “Have a good evening, My lord.”

Avoiding your husband was not for the faint of heart. Or so she had told herself as she actively avoided her own. Out of embarrassment or lack of self control, she didn’t know. She felt overwhelmed by his affection for her, overwhelmed when he looked at her with that passionate gaze that made her knees shake. In a moment of weakness (some would say loneliness), she caved, storming into his chambers. It was the middle of the night, the air chilly as she pulled the robe closer to her body. Perhaps she should have made herself more appeasing, but she hadn’t cared.

She stood by his fireplace, pacing back and forth as she waited for him to return. Her mind started to wonder, where was he at this late hour? She couldn’t blame him, many husbands strayed from their wives.

“Y/N?”

She straightened her posture, facing him hesitantly. “Gwayne.”

“Is everything alright? Are you-” He paused, his eyes taking in her figure. “Did you walk through the tower like this?”

“I-” She smiled weakly. “It was merely from my chambers to yours. I- I made certain no one…” Her voice grew quieter as he walked closer. “Saw me.” He said nothing, and her resolve began to crumble. “I know this is unexpected, but please. Say something- anything would-”

“You look… ravishing.” He swallowed, eyes trained on her. “What have I done to deserve this beauty before me?”

She gulped, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped. “I thought I would apologize. For my absence as of late.”

“Ah.” He nodded, inches away from her. “While I can admit I’ve missed your presence, there is nothing to apologize for.” He looked over her figure once more, lazily draping an arm over her waist. “Have I told you you look ravishing?”

She nodded, crossing her arms. “Yes, you have. I have not barged into your room to be made a fool.”

“You have not made yourself a fool.” He pulled her closer, a gasp leaving her lips. “I am the fool.”

“How are you-” He lunged down, pulling her lips to his.

“I now realize that I have not made you aware of how beautiful you are.” He shook his head, walking them toward the bed. “Allow me to show you.”

“Gwayne! What-” He threw her on the bed, hovering over her.

“You are as radiant as the sun.” He pulled the ties of her robe slowly, heart hammering at the mere thought of her. “You are-”

“Wait.” She stopped, sitting up. “Can I-”

He nodded. “Have I-”

She climbed his waist, straddling him in an instant. Her hand found her way to his cheek, caressing it softly as she whispered. “I wanted to say that I- I find myself wanting you too.”

He grinned, pulling her close. “I’m glad.” Her robe barely hid her figure, with both shoulders fallen and the rest being held up by sheer will. She leaned her forehead against his, pulling at the robe until it gave way. “You-”

Her cheeks were bright red, but she did not break eye contact with him, leaning in closer with each passing second. “Gwayne…”

“Yes?” He whispered, their lips inches apart.

“I know husbands stray… from their wives. But may you-” She leaned closer to his lips, whispering back. "May you pretend I am the only one?”

His eyes widened, and he laughed. “Oh, my darling girl.” He kissed down her neck, around her face, everywhere, smiling as she giggled from his affection. “You will always be the only one. Trust me.”

Her heart skipped. "I do."

"Good." He grinned, leaning forward. "Good."

The sun peeked through the curtains, streaming over the couple. Their legs were tangled together, their arms haphazardly thrown over the other, dead to the world.

Or rather, Gwayne was dead to the world. Y/N watched her husband sleep, staring at his beautiful face, trying to commit it to memory. His freckles were light, but very much visible this close. She reached up, gently pushing his hair out of his eyes. Kissing his forehead gently, she rolled over so she could begin her day.

Gwayne's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into his chest. “And just where are you off to?”

She laughed, turning in his arms to face him once more. “You’re awake.”

He nuzzled his face into the pillow, groaning. “I must say, I’m quite surprised you are.”

She scoffed, hitting his chest indignantly. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He looked up, smirking. “You were asleep before I could-”

She slapped a hand over his mouth. “You are much too bold this morning, ser.”

“Ser?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling her with him as he rolled over, causing a symphony of laughter to leave her. “I beg you, do not ever call me ser again.”

“If you insist.” She giggled, kissing his neck gently. “My lord.”

He hummed, closing his eyes. “You are glowing, did you know?”

“That would be the morning sun, my dear.” Y/N smirked.

He shook his head, his face serious. “You are always glowing.” A hand caressed her cheek, resting on her jaw as he stared. “As beautiful as the summer breeze.”

“Gwayne…” She knew her cheeks were bright red. “You flatter me.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It is the truth.” Looming over her now, he kissed down her neck. “Say it.”

“Say what?” She whispered.

“Say you are beautiful and I shall stop.”

“But…” She gasped as he pulled the sheet down to reveal her figure. “What if I do not want you to stop?”

“Well then…” Gwayne smirked. “We are at a stand still.”

She shook her head, pulling him toward her. “No, we are not.”

He grinned. “Then say it.”

“I-” She gulped, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck as he trailed down her frame once more. “I’m beautiful.”

Kings Landing felt different, she had told herself while they walked into her mother’s birthday dinner. Perhaps it was the fact that she was walking through her childhood home with her husband, but she felt confident, prideful even. It was a small, intimate gathering, with only her and Gwayne’s family present.

And by Gwayne’s family, she meant his sister.

The seating arrangements could not have been more unfortunate, with Y/N sitting opposite of her despicable uncle.

“I must say…” Aegon whispered. “It is so nice to see you returned a woman grown.” He leaned forward, smirking. “Perhaps later…”

Y/N scowled. “I dare you to finish that sentence.”

Rhaenyra smiled, standing up and addressing her family. “It warms my heart to have my family gathered for this celebration.” She looked over at her daughter, eyes watering ever so slightly. “Thankfully, my firstborn, my heir, was also able to be in attendance.” She raised her glass. “I’m glad you were able to join us. It has been too long, my darling.”

Y/N laughed. “It has hardly been five moons since my departure, Mother.”

“Yes, well…” Rhaenyra sat down, looking over at Gwayne. “How does my daughter fare in Oldtown?”

“Wonderfully, Your Majesty.” He looked down at his wife, smiling brightly. “She is the perfect Lady Hightower, I must say.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, smacking his arm playfully. “You flatter me, Husband.”

“I am merely telling the truth.” Gwayne laughed. “I dare say we have not had such a Lady since my dear mother.”

Alicent’s face dropped, and Y/N smacked his arm harder. “Gwayne…”

Aegon leaned across the table, sneering at his Uncle. “I must say, I’m quite surprised to see you so inexplicably happy. I’ve heard she can be quite the-”

Jace slammed his fist on the table, silencing the room. “Watch your mouth.”

The platinum blonde sat back, raising his hands up in surrender. “I’m merely enlightening my Uncle, Jace.”

“Why don’t you-”

“It is quite alright, Jace.” Y/N hissed, smiling lightly. “It was a jest.” Gwayne grabbed her hand under the table, caressing the back gently.

Aegon looked unsatisfied. “All I meant to say is that I’m quite surprised you have found love in such a short time.” He looked over at Gwayne, wiggling his eyebrows. “Is she rather-”

It was now Y/N’s turn to slam her fist on the table. Standing up, she glared at her Uncle, grasping Gwayne’s hand tightly. “I am sorry, Uncle, that you do not know what it is to respect your spouse. I am also sorry that you wouldn’t know love if it stood right in front of you.” She gulped, realizing the entirety of her family was now staring at her. “My husband is a good man, unlike the tales I have heard of you and my poor Aunt. Gwayne is kind and caring and-” She huffed. “I have never loved someone more. I pity you, I really do. Never knowing what true unconditional love feels like because you deny yourself every chance of happiness.” Sitting back down quickly, she grabbed her wine, taking a large drink. Her mother stared, a hand over her mouth that Y/N could only assume was holding back laughter. Her brothers looked shocked, shocked that she was so defensive over a man she hardly knew.

But she did know him, and he knew her much better than anyone. The chatter started up soon after, but she was frozen in her seat, refusing to see her husband’s reaction. She had never-

She looked up, jumping when she met his eyes immediately. “I’m sorry if I-”

Gwayne stood up, grabbing her hand. “Follow me.”

“Gwayne.” She hissed, “They’re staring-” He walked out of the room, refusing to acknowledge the prying eyes of their family. “Gwayne, I’m sorry if I upset you. I just- I couldn't take it anymore. He drives me-”

Pulling her into their shared chambers, he slammed the door behind him. She walked out of his hold, hugging herself as she watched him stare at her. “Say something, please. I truly am… I am sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

He stalked forward, grabbing her face and pulling her to him. Her eyes widened, knees weakening at the passion that exuded from his kiss. They stayed latched to each other for what seemed like minutes, ignoring the world around them.

“You are an angel, I am convinced.”

Y/N laughed. “I love you.”

Gwayne grinned, kissing her quickly. “I love you much more, my love.”

She shook her head, basking in his affection. “I do not think that is possible.”

He groaned, laying his head on her shoulder. “Must we go back to dinner?”

She nodded, raking her fingers through his hair. “I’m afraid so.”

He shook his head. “Your mother will have to forgive me.”

She laughed. “For what, my love?”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder. “I must spend time with my lovely wife at this very moment, or I shall combust.”

Y/N giggled, smacking his back. “Gwayne!”

He threw her on the bed, laughing at her flushed cheeks. “You are simply divine.” Crawling up to her lips like a lion to its prey, he practically growled. “I could stare at you for hours.”

Y/N smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck as she whispered. “Perhaps you could show me how divine I am instead.”

“I believe, dear wife…” He pulled the string at the front of her dress, removing her dress. “That can be arranged.”

taglist: @beebeechaos @i-padfootblack-things

#game of thrones #house of the dragon #team black #team green #alicent hightower #gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #x reader #fanfiction #got #got fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #hotd fluff #literature #hotd angst #angst

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impval · 23 hours ago

Text

i found love

Victoria Neuman x fem! reader soulmate au

Everyone had different bonds. Some shared pain or emotions. Some even simply had timers, counting down to the moment when they'd first glimpse into the eyes of the person they were meant to be with.

The movements and subtle pulls of the thread, the little tugs and twists, were a constant in her life. She found herself often idly touching the red thread that no one else could see, and wondering where it led to… and who was on the other end, connected to her.

Orphaned at a young age, adopted and learn quickly to survive - it had shaped Victoria. So, she decided that soulmate were just an unnecessary risk. A liability. No soulmate, and no messy emotions or attachments involved. She didn't need one.

No, it was better not to think about it. Better to simply ignore it, ignore the thread that seemed to itch and burn with every passing year. Victoria had always had a plan, a goal, something to work towards. She simply couldn’t afford to have her whole life thrown into chaos simply because there was a chance that her soulmate could somehow... complete her.

Work was the closest thing she had to a lover, to a companion. She'd had fleeting relationships over the years, casual things, but she never let any of them grow into something more.

Victoria didn't really think much of the patterns, at first. Just a curious observation that slowly started to nag on her mind, and which she'd occasionally think about when she got the time to do so. The subtle tugging and pulling throughout the day... there was a distinct rhythm to it that only made sense if the person on the other end were in a similar time zone.

It was just another day.

Wake up, get some coffee, get to work, deal with reports, lunch time if she lucky, reports, meetings, and more reports, and then home. It was a routine she was used to - something that was familiar, something that made at least part of her life predictable.

But it took a few hours, embarrassingly long, for Victoria to realize that something was off. Her soulmate always moved during lunch, sometimes stopping before it started again, as though her soulmate was checking their phone or something...They weren't moving today. Why?

It could very well be that her soulmate had simply forgotten to eat lunch - a trivial and harmless explanation for her uncharacteristically still thread, that lay motionless, red against her arm. Or it could also be something worse. Were they ill? Were they... dead?

No. If the fucking thread was there, obviously her soulmate was alive. Obviously. It stupid to be so worried about a thread, she kept telling herself. But then lunch break passed, then the hour... and then another. The thread still did not move.

Her mood began to sour as the evening drew on. Sitting alone in the safety and secrecy of her home, with glass of whiskey in hand, Victoria let her eyes settle on the thread.

Just... sick, she told herself. Perhaps she was worrying over nothing. Perhaps they'd just come down with a cold or something. There was no reason to worry.

Victoria had her hands full - between dealing with supes, potential terrorist threats, and the occasional meeting with other government officials, the days had been busy and exhausting. Every time she had looked at the thread in the last couple days, the movements had gotten better... but they were still somehow off. It was still concerning, and she still couldn't quite figure out exactly why she was worried.

The incident had happened almost a week ago, the usual supe bullshit...Apparently, some supe had gotten drunk, used his powers to destroy the entire club, and injured several people. The only reason this accident was even in the news was because the supe involved was a relatively well-known hero. Otherwise, these kinds of cases tended to be ignored by the media.

The survivors were now in the hospital and, well, it was good PR, public image was key.

Victoria knew the drill - pay sympathy, try to look as earnest and as concerned as possible. It wasn't even that much of a problem - she did care about the people affected - it was just exhausting, pretending to care more about it than she actually did.

The folder her assistant had handed to her had detailed information. Nothing more than routine - she always prepared for any and all situations. Her gaze lingered for a moment, longer than it had for any of the other names on the list of patients: the last one, your name.

People hurried back and forth, the beeping of machines and the smell of antiseptic pervaded the air. Hospitals had always made Victoria feel uncomfortable.

She walked through the hospital, nodding and making sympathetic noises and reassuring people, reassuring herself that she was doing a good work. Most of the victims had suffered relatively minor injuries - a few broken wrists, concussions, a lost eye... it could have been much, much worse.

The thread was shortening with each person she met, and she'd be lying if she said that she didn't notice - but she pushed it to the back of her mind, tried to focus on what was said instead.

And then...

This was the last stop, the last patient. With blank eyes, Victoria stared down at the red thread, and let out a deep, almost exhausted sigh.

She'd almost made a choice to not even stop by your room. That would be the smart thing to do, the practical thing, the one that would save her from a lot of heartache.

The conversation with her assistant was brief, and in a moment she was alone, standing in front of the door to your room.

Victoria told herself it didn't matter, that it wasn't important. She'd made it this far in life without ever considering finding a soulmate - why worry about them now? But the red thread was pulsating, beckoning her towards.

But there was that other part of her, the part that was curious about what it would be like, the part that was lonely, that wanted to know.

She took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Some swore that the moment they saw their soulmate, the world suddenly made sense - became beautiful. Others claimed that it was no different than meeting anyone else, just... less complicated. For all the research and discussion, no one agreed of what it was like.

The room was quiet, only a low beep from the heart monitor - you were laying in the bed, attached to an IV, a visible scratches and dark bruises across your body.

You looked familiar to her, your face and your eyes - and Victoria recognized you, even though she had never seen you before. Familiar. Warmth and comfort. The feeling of being known... understood, even without knowing this person. She could have gone her entire life without feeling that, and yet here it was anyway.

"Hello," your voice was so soft, so soft that Victoria almost didn't hear it.

Your face, oh my god, so beautiful, had a big smile on it - you weren't smiling with your teeth, as if you were embarrassed for some reason (braces perhaps?). Fuck, how was it possible that you looked cute, even though you were currently in the goddamned hospital?

"Hello," she said, equally quietly, taking a few steps closer.

A week ago, she had been completely sure that a soulmate did not matter to her. And now, the stupid part of her brain was screaming that she wanted to hold your hand, run her fingers gently over your skin...

There was nothing particularly special about your appearance, Victoria admitted to herself, and yet... she couldn't help but look at you - so beautiful, so familiar, so perfect.

Well, Victoria has always been adaptable.

You cleared your throat awkwardly. "I've seen you on TV. Victoria, right?"

She snapped herself out of her thoughts, clearing her own throat and willing (and failing) to clear her mind of all the new, confusing, and unfamiliar (yet welcome) thoughts and feelings.

"Yeah… that's correct," Victoria nodded, trying to get a hold of the swirling thoughts in her mind.

She spoke your name and god, it was beautiful to hear, it was like...

No, focus.

You slowly lifted yourself to sit on the bed, the movement looking like it took a bit of effort and clearly put you in some amount of pain - and she had to suppress the instinctive urge to offer help.

"And here I thought the nurses were joking about a politician coming to the hospital. To be honest, I expected an old white man."

Despite everything, she let out a quiet laugh. It sounded shaky even to her own ears, but she was too focused on watching you to really pay attention to it.

"I always get comments about me being the wrong age and gender for a politician," she replied with a small, easy smile - or at least that was what she tried to portray.

You'd dreamed of this moment. Imagined meeting your soulmate, had probably thought of this moment so many times, over and over. And then it happens, and you meet your damn soulmate — and it turns out to be a fucking politician. To make things even better, one who was famously anti-supe and you were currently in the damn hospital because of a supe attack.

"How... are you feeling?" she asked, her voice softer with the question. "Your injuries, I mean."

There was a sudden feeling of guilt as she looked at you, and she pushed it aside quickly - she could worry about the implications and consequences of her secret identity later when she was alone.

The thread seemed to vibrate as Victoria took another step closer.

You let out a small huff, and shrugged slightly in response, before grimacing in pain. "Like I was hit by a truck," you stated dryly. "But the doctors say I will be fine. And the painkillers helps."

Her eyes darkened at the thought of someone hurting you like this, injuring you so badly that you were in a hospital. Whoever did this was going to face consequences. Not now, of course - she was going to wait.

For now... Victoria took another step forward. Her eyes glanced down at the way you wrapped the thread around your hand, and she almost - almost - reached out to imitate the action herself.

But she didn't - her hands, instead, gripped the metal rail of the bed, her knuckles turning white from the force of the grip. So many questions entered her mind, all at once. She had no idea how long you'd be in hospital, who came to see you, how your recovery process would be going - the list was endless.

"When will you be discharged?"

"Sometime next week, apparently. My injuries are... non-life threatening. Mostly just..." you gestured to the scratches and bruises on your arms and face. "Well. I'm lucky."

You were blushing under her gaze and she noticed, a small part of her preening with satisfaction at the idea that her mere presence was enough to make you blush.

"Do you have family, or someone else who could look after you?"

a partner?

The mere thought that you might be with someone else, with someone other than her, was just wrong. It was just wrong. Victoria had no right to think that way, and she knew it - she'd only just met you, for god’s sake.

But she felt it, she couldn't help it.

Victoria couldn't help but noticed - no flowers, no "get well" balloons, nothing at all that might have indicated visitors.

"No," you shook your head. "My friends are currently in Spain and my family... we don't talk anymore."

Wait.

So who the hell was taking care of you while you were in the hospital? No one? She was your soulmate. You were hers, and it just felt wrong to leave you in your current condition, with no one to take care of you…

Hers. The word echoed through Victoria mind, over and over again, her soulmate, her responsibility, her to protect, to take care of -

"That won't do," She found herself saying before she realized it.

- and Victoria had always held a sense of possessiveness over the things she considered hers. In this case, she would have no compunctions about using her power and influence to guarantee your safety, to make sure you would be looked after.

But you tried to brush it off, of course you did - yet all she could focus on was the fact that no, you weren't going to be alone while you were recovering.

As her hand touched yours, you immediately went silent. The thread wraps around connected hands, and Victoria found herself thinking that the red looked nice on you.

And that's how Victoria was suddenly having a crash course in learning how to be a doting soulmate.

Funny, but she would have never, in a million years assumed she'd be acting so... obsessive over her soulmate, and yet here she was, finding out information that she felt the compulsive need to know.

How were your injuries healing? Had you been prescribed enough painkillers? Were you comfortable? She learned your medical history, for god's sake.

Victoria visited you at every spare moment she had, taking time out of her schedule just to see you. It was pathetic, in a way, how quickly her entire world seemed to revolve around you, the person she'd just met.

She had flowers brought to your room, balloons, even a stupid teddy bear, all while her logical thinking was telling her that this was all just too fast and too much. But the fact that you were alone, without family or friends, drove her to the point of near-aggression, and Victoria wanted to shower you with so much attention you would hardly be able to breathe.

You blushed and stuttered as you told your friends on the phone about all of this. They were surprised, of course, who wouldn't be surprised and a little freaked out, but there was also genuine excitement, and they were happy for you.

You'd always dreamed of having a soulmate, and now you had Victoria. Even her publicity and the fact that she was a politician didn't bother you as much as they probably should.

She was smart, and knew things before you even tried to say them. And once her mind was set on something, she was stubborn as hell, and you soon found that you were completely unable to resist her, especially when she looked at you with those big brown eyes.

You were staying with her when you were discharged. That wasn't up for discussion. She had already had a room cleaned out for you, had set it up to make sure everything was comfortable.

The thought that she'd be looking after you soon wasn't as intimidating as it should have been. Hell, you'd welcomed it.

Once you'd gathered your things from your home, she took you to her apartment, and you weren't surprised. It was definitely the sort of place Victoria would have. All things said that she was incredibly well-off, not shy about how much she spent in any way.

It was funny, the way she was acting right in front of your eyes. The way she doted on you, the way she made sure you were comfortable and happy, that nothing was missing - anything you wanted, she would get it for you.

Unfortunately, the reality was that she needed to work, and that required her to follow a certain schedule.

You adapted quickly, and she began to get used to the routine of having you around, the feeling far more comfortable than she'd expected. You soon learned that she loathed waking up early but did it anyway - and now sometimes you got up with her, even as she protested, cooking breakfast for her while she was in the shower.

Whenever she was at work, at yet another meeting, where she had to deal with the bullshit of idiots and incompetent employees, she would find herself missing you more than she thought she would.

Before, she'd always spent her evenings working, taking her documents home with her and continuing to work when she was in the comfort of her apartment - but now, that routine was changed.

Victoria found herself actually looking forward to coming home, because you were there, always happy to see her.

At first, you slept in the guest bedroom. It didn't take long for that situation to change, though - it was a nightmare that made it necessary. Anxiety and nightmares were hardly surprising - you had been attacked by a supe, after all. Your body recovered fairly well, thankfully, but your mind was another story.

And if that supe that hurt you somehow died in a mysterious, unexplainable accident, it was all just a coincidence.

If she was late coming home from work, claiming that she had suddenly had more important papers to work on, that was just a coincidence as well.

Coincidences happened all the time.

Victoria's bed was soft and comfortable, and it smelled like her. It was probably one of the best decisions she'd made, having you in bed with her. When you had nightmares and woke up sweaty and breathless, she could help you immediately, and she would often wake up to you clinging to her. She'd never admit it to anyone, but she liked seeing that.

You were hers, and even in your sleep, you were subconsciously seeking her out.

Soulmates didn't have to love each other romantically, it was true, and the relationship between soulmates could take a myriad of different forms.

But Victoria wasn't an idiot. She saw the same expression in your eyes, the same look that was most likely mirrored in hers. She wasn't the most romantic person, but some things were not hard to see. This was a romantic soulbond.

A month and then another passed, you were fully recovered now and yet neither of you even bothered to bring up the subject of you moving out. Why would you? You were soulmates, and moving in together was something that would happen anyway at some point - besides, Victoria clearly enjoyed having you there, and you had no objections either.

Not to mention, getting to see her in her suits every day was a pleasure.

Even for a couple that was going a bit fast, you were taking things slow in other aspects. Gentle touches, late-night conversations, the way you talked about the little things, all of it helped you learn each other, figure out habits and personality quirks.

You eventually introduced her to your friends, and Victoria, being the charming woman she was, didn't exactly struggle to win them over. They were quite amused that you moved in with her so quickly, cracking jokes about the lesbian stereotypes that you definitely seemed to be fitting right into.

The most difficult topic was Victoria's career. It was important to her - and unfortunately, that meant that she would have to figure out what she was going to do with you soon.

But you weren't certain whether you wanted people to know about your relationship with her, especially being a public figure and all that came with. And you were also aware that politicians had two options when it came to their soulmates. Politicians either hid their soulmates or they paraded them out like a trophy.

But the main concern on Victoria's mind was your safety.

She had loads of assholes who could be a problem, including those idiotic Hughie's friends, Homelander (she would end him if he dared to even look at you), her adopted father and whoever else decided to add themselves to the metaphorical list.

What you didn't know was that Victoria was protecting you already, using her connections to make sure you had a pair (or sometimes more) of watchful eyes on you when you went somewhere without her.

And while she held you in her arms and watched you sleeping, Victoria decided that it was perhaps time to thin that metaphorical list of threats with a very literal approach.

You had no idea about the violent thoughts that had invaded her mind, and she preferred to keep it that way, for now. To you, Victoria was just your lovely soulmate, who kissed you every morning before work. Someone who wore comfy, stretched-out sweaters around the house and read the newspapers while drinking coffee like a grandma. She was the one who smiled warmly every time you did something nice for her, and she responded by overly spoiling you with expensive gifts.

Part of Victoria felt guilty that she hadn't even considered telling you the truth about her powers. If you found out the truth, would you look at her differently?

Would you see her differently knowing she was a supe too? Knowing that she'd killed more than once? That she would kill again without hesitation, if it meant saving you and her career?

Well, you didn't hate supes, but you were hurt by one of them before, and you were still having nightmares from the goddamn trauma. How would you possibly react when you found out that she was one too?

You were perfect in many ways. You were so considerate and patient, holding her tight while she ranted after a day of dealing with idiots at work, or giving her space when she needed to sort out her own anger.

As the protective one in the relationship, she was well aware that you were also strong in your own way, though not as obvious about it… but would it all be enough?

Victoria shoved those doubts and conflicting thoughts far out of her mind, to be dealt with another time, when she had time to sort through the mess of feelings.

For now, she had a career to build, and a wonderful - if completely oblivious - soulmate at home who she couldn't get enough of.

Coming home after work to find you there, waiting for her, the weekends now filled with you instead of work, laughter in the house and your smile, and...

Victoria would come home after work just to hear your voice and see your smile, feel your touch. Even on the really bad days, when her anger was still bubbling just beneath the surface, even when she was stressed.

This wasn't a life she'd ever thought she would have, but it was one she didn't want to give up for anything in the world.

#the boys #wlw #victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman #gen v #gen v x reader #the boys x reader #my queen

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ang3lofdivinity · 11 hours ago

Text

Because I’m trying to get back into writing more…

Imagine: Daisuke and you on the Tulpar managing to find time to spend together doing something like.. making food for the crew. No matter what your job is, you’re always willing to help him out with baking whenever needed!

“Dai, can you-“ You immediately freeze, looking over at your boyfriend who has made a rather large mess on the counter. He had dropped the batter out of the mixing bowl somehow, enough for it all to pour out as he holds the messy, metallic bowl and spatula in his hands. His expression? Dumbfounded to say the least

You genuinely cannot contain the giggles that escape your throat upon seeing the scene before you.

“Hey!! This isn’t funny!” He immediately pouts, whipping his head around to face you before looking back down at the bowl, using the spatula to scrap whatever remains are within the bowl and slinging them at you, causing you to laugh even harder - tears falling down your cheeks.

The batter had splattered on your clothes, along with your neck. But hey! At least you got a nice laugh out of it.

Quickly, your hands swiftly grab the nearest thing, which just so happens to be an opened sweetener pack, as you launch it towards him, causing him to squeal like a mouse.

This then, continues. For nearly hours as you laugh and cry about your food fight, throwing ingredients at each other as you can’t find a care in the world for the mess you’re creating. Only caring about your boyfriend’s happiness.

Other food items, utensils (non-harming ones), and bowls were thrown. The bowls and utensils clattered as they fell to the ground, nearly causing you both to fall at certain times as you raced around the dining table in the center, trying to avoid getting hit once more.

There’s honestly nothing that can ruin this-

“What are IDIOTS doing???”

Upon hearing Swansea’s voice, you both instantaneously pause, staring over at the old man standing in the doorway.

Without a second to spare, you quickly rush over to Daisuke, who’s practically trembling under Swansea’s gaze.

“You stupid kids! Why would you waste these products!?” He yells, brows furrowed.

You move in front of Daisuke rather protectively, clearing your throat.

“It was my fault, Mr Swansea. I instigated this, and pressured him to join me in.. what I thought was fun. I’m so sorry. We’ll clean this up right away and salvage all that we can.” You bow your head in respect, lips now pursed.

“Just, don’t do it again..” He huffed as he turned on his heel, now leaving as the door slid shut.

It takes you guys a moment before you start giggling ever so slightly.

Imagine: You are sleeping, and then you suddenly hear your door open in the middle of the night. Surprise, it’s Daisuke! And even when trying to tough it out - he eventually can’t find it within him to go back to sleep without company. So he goes to your room to ask if he can sleep with you because being with you makes him feel better.

You groggily manage to raise yourself enough to sit on your bed, eyes blinking slowly as you try to adjust to your surroundings. Yawning, you finally see who’s opened your door.

Daisuke.

“..Sweetheart, it’s still nighttime. Can whatever you have to say wait until morning?..” Your voice is slightly raspy, but you try your best to sound as kind as you can, giving a small smile to the man in the doorway.

“I um.. sorry- I can go.. I didn’t mean to disturb you..” He fumbles over his words, fidgeting with his fingers as he stumbles backwards a bit. Something.. something seems wrong with his tone, however. Like something’s genuinely going wrong. So, that really gave you a wake-up call.

How could you push away your boyfriend in order to get just a bit more sleep tonight when he seems so distressed??

“Wait!-“ You quickly call out, causing him to stop him from leaving once he showed signs of him beginning to leave. You couldn’t let him leave just like that!

He turns to you, a worried look on his face. As if he’d done something wrong. You’ve seen that look before. He makes the same face whenever Swansea calls out his name all of the sudden, making him stiffen up, worrying that’d done something wrong.

But he hasn’t.

He’s just a young adult, like you.

Just trying to live.

Just. Like. You.

“..Come here.” Your voice is softer, sounding much more normal to how you normally sound - yet it still has that tired tinge to it.

He stares at you for a moment, confused about what’s happening before obliging. He slowly enters, the door sliding closed behind him as he awkwardly stands near the side of the bed where you’re resting. Swiftly, you lift up the covers, moving back a bit before patting the free spot on your bed.

“Come on. We can talk about it in the morning if you’re ready then.”

He almost immediately jumps into your arms upon crawling up into bed with you, wrapping his own around you while burying his face away into your shoulder. One of your hands glides up, finding its way into his hair, tangling with strands of it, stroking his hair, massaging his scalp - doing simple things to try and get him to relax a bit more.

Which works.

He’s out once more, arms wrapped around each other.

Imagine: Giving little gifts to each other with small letters of affirmation written on little post it notes. Even if that small gift is just an article of clothing one of you guys borrowed from the other.

‘You’re doing amazing, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. Keep the good work up, Dai. :)’

- (_____)

Daisuke reads the note attached to a bag of sweetener with a cheeky grin, clearly pleased with this. I mean, he’s been told he’s useless, that he’s just an idiot - but you see through that. You see the effort, the time it takes. Even if it fails, at least he tried to do it.

Quickly he looks around his room for a moment, trying to find the perfect thing to give you.

When he finds it.

Upon arriving back to your room from the medic bay, helping Anya with Curly and a few other errands she needed - you’re greeted with the sight of a hoodie somewhat neatly placed on your bed. You furrow your brows, confused for a moment before you approach your bed, now seeing the post-it-note attached to it.

A small grin slowly graces your lips as you tilt your head at the sight, gently taking it off the hoodie.

‘Know that you matter to me! You’re so incredibly awesome, I don’t know how I got to date with someone so cool >:D’

- Daisuke

As your smile grows larger, you realize 2 essential things:

You’re so thankful to have him.

And

He’s the best boyfriend ever. (Even if a bit silly at times).

You love him.

#mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #x reader #drabble #scenarios #fluff #he’s so pookie #he’s so attractive #and silly #i love this man #fanfiction #🪥 - mouthwashing #🕯️ — random angel things #🪽 — ang3lofdivinity

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avonne-writes · 3 days ago

Note

would love to see nr. 18 nr. 22 and 37 from the prompt list together!! «truth or dare» with «secret relationship» where their relationship get exposed bc john gets dared to kiss someone else, and gale is possessive

After such a long wait, I finally had a chance to write this. Thank you for the prompt! 🩷 Teenage awkwardness ahead, from an outsider POV.

Truth or dare - HS AU, beginning of Year 10

Why is it that the jocks at Olivia's school throw the lamest parties ever? Her older sister always used to brag about how much fun she had at these things back in the day - two years ago - but Olivia's just bored. Like, it's an absolute snoozefest. Putting on makeup for this wasn’t worth it. Not to mention the two hours she spent straightening her hair and looking for a top that complemented her green eyes. With the shit music they're playing, the whole thing was just a waste of time.

They’re all sitting around in a cramped living room that smells like her brother's socks and the P.E. locker room, and most of the boys are not even cute at all. They all have such bony arms, ugh. Olivia is attracted to real men, older boys. At least two years older. That's where she draws the line. The guys in her year are way too immature for her attention.

Okay, fine, if she really had to choose, Gale Cleven isn’t half bad. He’s kinda fit, more muscular than these soccer boys who can’t stop talking about Messi or whatshisname. He’s got beautiful blue eyes. A piercing stare. Zapphire orbs that glitter with interest when they meet Olivia's… She sighs, taking a sip of her soda and taking a furtive look at Gale where he's sitting cross-legged on the floor across from her. She likes boys with an actual personality. Gale has shoulder-length blond hair, which is pretty unique, but he’s a bit too quiet. What if he's boring too?

Plus, dating Gale would come with the unfortunate side effect of having to spend time with Bucky. Olivia had a crush on him last year, but it faded after a while, and she hates him now. She doesn’t get why he's so popular when he's just a stupid player. He flirts but never actually asks you out. Her past self was dumb for falling for his bright smile and loud personality.

Maybe, going for someone quiet is just what she needs. No, not quiet - mysterious. Yes, that's a better word to describe Gale. He’s smart and sweet and fit, and he wears neat clothes, not just plain, wrinkled t-shirts like Bucky. He takes care of himself. And he doesn’t have acne either. She bets he smells nice. Probably like - like cedar and sandalwood and an earthy, musky scent that she would still smell on her clothes hours after kissing him…

Suddenly, Gale's gaze flickers over to her, so she looks down for a second. Heat rises to her cheeks. But, she read somewhere that if you can keep eye contact with a guy for at least 5 seconds, they will begin to like you, and if it goes up to 10 seconds, they fall in love with you. It sounded like a good method, so she has decided to go for it every chance she gets. Telling herself that she's a bold and pretty girl, she looks up and finds Gale's eyes again. One, two, three - Ah!

It was so close! But Bucky had to choose that moment to tug at a lock of Gale's hair. Can’t he just leave Gale alone? Why does he need everyone’s attention all the time?

Disappointed, Olivia turns back to her conversation with her friends, but she makes sure to glance at Gale every now and then, to give that eye contact another chance. For the most part, Gale doesn’t return her gaze, but she can understand why - Bucky's constantly talking to him, his pale face flushed, sweat on his neck and a permanent smile in his eyes. It would be sweet if it wasn’t so annoying. Like, obsessed much?

She wonders how those two get along so well. Gale is a sensitive boy, a romantic soul, she can tell, and Bucky's all about video games and whatnot. And the way he's sitting is so irritating too, can’t he close his legs? His thigh is brushing Gale's knee. It’s clearly making Gale uncomfortable, because he fidgets and bounces his leg a little. Trying to make Bucky catch on that he’s way too close, no doubt. He gives Bucky an awkward smile, looking at him from the corner of his eyes, and instead of realizing how overbearing he is, Bucky just hands Gale his own drink. As if he expects him to hold it for him or something. Ridiculous.

“Dave!” One of the soccer boys yells at their host over the thumping beat.

“What?”

“I'm fucking bored, man!”

“Go fuck off then!”

The boys flip each other off, and some of the others laugh as if it’s the funniest thing they've ever seen, even though this happens every single day at school. Olivia rolls her eyes. Is it some weird male ritual to insult each other over literally nothing while the others laugh like a pack of demented hyenas? This is why she has given up on these dumbasses.

Sweet Gale would never act like this. He’s a gentleman. The kind of man who'd give his lady a thousand red roses on Valentine's before telling her he loves her. Olivia can feel this in her heart.

When she looks at him again, she sees him pull his knees up and rest his elbows on them, then his head on his folded arms, looking at Bucky. With his usual clueless grin, Bucky says something to him that Olivia doesn’t catch, then he bends one of his knees to bump it into Gale's.

Oh my God, Olivia thinks, this boy really can’t take a hint.

She has suspected for a while that Bucky is socially impaired, not in the introverted weirdo way but like, he’s too much and he doesn’t realize it. How his friends put up with it, she has no idea. But it's clear that Gale is pulling back now, because he pushes Bucky's knee away, and when Bucky grabs his wrist in retaliation, he starts scuffling with him with one hand.

“O-kay, who wants to play spin the bottle?” Dave calls out. A mix of cheers and boos follow.

Excited, Olivia perks up. Gosh, this would be the perfect opportunity!

Her mind speedruns a daydream for her. She imagines Gale spinning the bottle, biting his plump lip nervously as he waits for it to slow down. When it rolls to a stop pointing at Olivia, he’d relax though. He might have been hoping for this, for a chance to get closer to her. He might even give her a shy smile. As everyone watches, he’d take her face in his gentle hands, wait for her to nod to make sure it's okay, and then he'd lean in ever so slowly and press a tender kiss to her lips. He’d pull back an inch after a second, but he wouldn’t be able to let her go just yet - he’d close the distance again, not able to hide his passion any longer.

Pleasepleaseplease, she chants like a mantra, curling her legs under herself to sit as attractively as one can on an ugly IKEA rug, leaning against a couch. Her best friend shares a look with her and giggles as Benny DeMarco chugs down half a bottle of Fanta just to have something they can use to spin. That one's going to be an alcoholist, Olivia has no doubt. And he doesn’t even have blue eyes. Not her type.

As Dave lowers the volume of his trash music - finally! - some of the other girls start protesting the game choice. Olivia narrows her eyes at them. She doesn’t mind giving a quick peck to a couple of clumsy fuckboys if she gets to kiss Gale in the end. But if these girls ruin this for her -

“Fine! Fine, Jesus.” Dave raises his hands in surrender, and the girls stop whining. “How about truth or dare then?”

That seems good enough for everyone. Spin the bottle would have given Olivia a bigger chance at getting to kiss Gale, but whatever, truth or dare isn’t so bad either, and some of the questions might be funny at least. Again, she tries to catch Gale's eyes, running a hand through her long brown hair, but he’s looking at the floor and smiling at whatever Bucky's whispering in his ear. After a moment, he laughs and tells Bucky to shut up.

Glaring at Bucky, Olivia wills him to listen this time.

The game is pretty tame at first. A few people are asked if they have a crush on anybody, Dave is dared to show them his underwear, which is something Olivia will have to scourge from her mind, then her best friend has to tell them her most embarrassing memory. It’s quite funny. As they get more into the game, the questions start getting better too, until finally, the bottle lands on Gale. Olivia can feel her cheeks burn with excitement. Predictably, he chooses truth first - but that’s okay, because he, too, is asked the usual question:

“Do you have a crush on anyone?”

Some of their classmates groan, and Dave throws a handful of chips at the person who asked this lame question again, so the boy adds, “In this room?”

Olivia holds her breath. She tries to tell herself that it doesn't matter if Gale says no, it’s not like he’s the only guy in the world, but her heart still races as Gale's lips twitch into an unreadable smile. So sexy and mysterious!

“Yeah, I do.”

A few whoops and laughter follow, and Bucky, obnoxious as ever, whistles. Something about that makes Gale laugh. The way his nose crinkles is the most adorable thing Olivia has ever seen. Suddenly, she wonders if the knowing looks Gale shares with Curt and DeMarco are a sign that the boys know who the lucky girl is. It has to be a sign. She tries to see if any of them look at a particular girl, and she flushes when DeMarco's eyes land on her. She tries to read his gaze for long seconds, but when he smiles, she glances away, embarrassed. If it’s her, she'll know soon enough!

They play a few more rounds without anything interesting happening. When it’s her turn at last, Olivia chooses dare, but her task is to drink a sip from a disgusting concoction they mix for her using ketchup and soda. The smell alone is enough to make her gag, but she pinches her nose shut and does it. It's absolutely vile, and she hates how it lingers in her mouth.

Washing it down with water doesn’t help much either. She's on the brink of getting upset about it, when, like a literal knight in shining armor, Gale reaches across the space between them and offers her a bubblegum.

“Oh.” Olivia blushes, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she looks at Gale’s kind expression. When she reaches out, her fingers brush Gale's. “Thank you, Gale.”

Even saying his name makes her heart flutter. And then the way he smiles at her in return!

As she pops the gum in her mouth, he also puts one in his, and at that moment, she feels a synchronicity she has never felt before. It’s an incredible feeling to be so attuned to someone that without talking or practicing, you just mirror each other instinctually. It can't be a coincidence. Even if he's not doing it on purpose, Gale is connected to her, she can tell.

Gosh, what if it really happens tonight? Most of her previous crushes ended in disappointment - khm, Bucky - but this time, she has much higher hopes. She knows her senses are getting better, that she can pick up on all the signs easier. Tonight might just be the night.

She feels giddy from this thought, right until it’s Bucky's turn to play.

“Truth or dare?” Curt asks him with a mischievous look in his eyes.

Bucky's trademark cocky grin makes an appearance. “Gimme your worst, Biddick. Dare.”

Curt’s smile widens. “Take Buck's bubblegum out of his mouth and put it in yours without using your hands.”

“Ewww!” Most of the room alternates between gagging, laughing and looking at Curt in awe for coming up with such a disgusting task. Even with her small crush on Gale, Olivia wouldn’t do it, it’s too much. Although… Actually, if it got her a kiss, maybe she would.

As she goes through this thought process, she comes to the horrifying realization that Bucky would have to kiss Gale to complete the dare. She blanches. It wouldn’t mean anything, of course, but poor Gale, this isn’t even his dare.

One of the girls takes out her phone and starts recording. Bucky just winks at her like he’s not fazed at all by the dare. He’s such a fuckboy, honestly. Olivia hates how that behaviour still makes something in her belly stir. She watches with her eyebrows trying to disappear under her bangs as Bucky leans into Gale's space, looks at his lips, then bats his eyelashes at him in an over-the-top gesture. Gale just looks amused.

“Can you please give me your gum, Buck?”

“Hey!” Curt tries to interrupt through a surprised laugh.

“You didn't say I couldn’t use his hands.” Bucky shrugs, still grinning, and opens his mouth. His tongue sticks out.

To Olivia's astonishment, Gale doesn't protest. He snickers, then reaches a hand up to his lips. In front of their disgusted eyes, he takes the chewed-up gum out of his mouth and puts it in Bucky's.

“Fuck, that's disgusting.” Dave chortles gleefully as Bucky leans back on his hands, chewing away with a smug expression on his face. The rest of the room gags, cringes and laughs until Bucky spins the bottle, then they move on to the next round.

Olivia watches Gale's face for discomfort, but he seems to have found the dare funny. He shakes his head at Bucky fondly. When his eyes find Olivia's, he gives her a sheepish smile. It makes the butterflies in her stomach go crazy with exhilaration. She grins back.

Although it started out as a total flop, the night feels like a dream now. And in dreams… well, anything can happen, right?

The game picks up after that. The dares get more challenging, the questions juicier, and even though Olivia doesn’t get the kind of opportunities she's waiting for, she finds herself having fun. Being as attentive as he is, Gale always watches the person whose turn it is, not Olivia, but she finds that endearing. She wishes he'd catch her eyes more often, but it's okay, quiet boys usually struggle with eye contact. Except for DeMarco, apparently, because anytime she glances his way, he’s looking back. She wonders if he's just zoned out or something or if there’s something else there. He’s not that ugly, if she thinks about it…

Another ripple of laughter pulls her out of her thoughts. The bottle lands on Bucky again, and he says dare before Dave has even finished asking the question.

At Bucky’s response, Dave wiggles his eyebrows. “Kiss the hottest girl in this room on the lips.”

It's simple enough. And surely, for someone like Bucky who - according to the gossip Olivia heard - can’t go without a girlfriend for more than a month, this can’t be too hard to complete. A part of her aches in the hope that it's her. Not that she wants Bucky Egan, dumb jock extraordinaire, to kiss her. It’s just nice to be kissed, that's all. And it would be flattering if he chose her as the hottest. Better yet, it might make Gale jealous.

Oh Gosh, wouldn’t that be perfect? What if Bucky started leaning in and Gale pulled him away at the last moment just to lean in himself and claim the prize? Everyone would be so shocked!

Widening her eyes innocently, Olivia watches Bucky's face for a sign. She ignores the wave of feelings that take her back to last year when she had that ill-advised crush on him. She waits for him to notice her, but he seems unable to look away from Gale’s eyes. This time, they aren't smiling. Something serious flickers between them. Bucky's eyebrows draw together in a way that makes him look like a puppy with gangly legs and arms. To Olivia, Gale's expression is unreadable, but when Gale’s lips purse, Bucky turns back to Dave.

“Sorry, man, gotta forfeit.”

“Aww, what, you getting stage fright?” Dave laughs at his own lame joke. “I was going easy on you!”

“Dude, you were just not inclusive enough.” One of the other boys pipes up. “Should’ve said hottest person.”

“Oh, right. You just want to kiss me, huh, Egan?” Dave makes an annoying kissy noise.

Bucky grins again, his previous discomfort gone. “In your dreams, Davey-boy.”

“You bet.” Dave snorts, then gestures at the circle of them sitting around. “Okay, I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

Again, Bucky hesitates. It's confusing. Olivia doesn’t know what to make of that. It’s as if she's missing a crucial piece of the puzzle, something she should have noticed already but ended up overlooking. She's still trying to make sense of it when her night comes crashing down around her like a sudden storm that leaves you shivering and cold to the bone.

Bucky reaches up with a loving but sure hand, cups Gale's cheek and pulls him into a kiss like it’s something he has done before.

Their lips meet and part with a soft, damp sound that feels loud in the sudden silence that descends on their group.

It might as well be the sound of Olivia's heart being torn apart. A deep ache blooms in her chest where her joy was planted earlier tonight. Her mind refuses to accept what she's seeing. It’s not a first kiss. It’s sure as hell not a kiss forced on two boys by a dare, it’s not a prank taken a step too far. They've done this before. A dozen, a hundred, or a thousand times. They know which way to turn their heads to make it comfortable, how to tilt their chin for the sweetest contact, how to stroke the other's hair to earn a smile.

They know how to kiss each other and they enjoy it.

With a small smile, Gale draws back an inch, but Bucky doesn’t let him go too far - he pushes forward to chase Gale's lips. Right in front of them all, Gale returns this by opening his mouth, and Bucky takes the chance to lick inside and kiss the taste of bubblegum on Gale’s tongue as if he forgot they had an audience to watch it all.

A cacophony erupts around them, everyone talking over each other in excitement and confusion.

Please tell me this was just a dare, Olivia's breath hitches in pain. Shocked into silence, she starts fidgeting with her hands in her lap. Only parts of reality seem to reach her consciousness - the words boyfriend and 8 months, and the sight of Gale's hand in Bucky's, thumb stroking back and forth. How? When did this happen? Why didn’t she notice it all this time? It's so pathetic that she wants to laugh at herself. She managed to develop crushes on two boys who were secretly dating each other.

Universe, is this supposed to be a sign?

Oh, how it hurts that she's always the one who turns out to be delusional.

As she mopes there quietly, watching the sweet smile on Gale’s face, the sudden warmth of a shoulder pressing to hers draws her attention away. When she turns to look up, her green eyes meet brown.

“You okay?” DeMarco asks. The concern in his gentle voice sounds like a balm to her broken heart.

She takes a deep breath and musters a smile. He feels warm and solid, someone you can rely on.

Well. Maybe Benny DeMarco isn’t such a bad option after all. Bucky and Gale can have each other, Olivia's probably better off like this anyway.

The next party can only be luckier than this, she's sure.

#mota #buck x bucky #gale cleven #john egan #clegan #my writing #hs au #I'm sorry if there are typos I'm really exhausted but i wanted to post this tonight #🥰#prompt fill

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ghostgirl-22 · 2 days ago

Text

18+ !NSFW!

Pair: Artrick (mostly) Patashi mentioned

Patrick is a brat actually. So Art edges him relentlessly.

—-

Something, something. Art gets recognized at a gala and brings Tashi and Patrick as his plus ones to pick up the award. The world just thinks it’s his wife and best friend and they’re supposed to act accordingly. But Patrick is tired and horny and annoyingly bratty the whole night. He spends all night teasing them and trying to provoke them, pushing all of their buttons in public where they can’t do anything. He’s relentless, begs Art to fuck him in the bathroom before his speech, gives him blue balls whispering dirty things and then laughing about it.

He flirts with half the waitresses and a couple of waiters. Tashi wants to get back at him but she tends to lose control so easily when it comes to him. They just end up fucking in a random office one floor below before the galas even over. She comes back flushed, hair looser, makeup slightly smudged and he shows up a few minutes after, suit jacket wrinkled, buttons mismatched. The ruby of her lipstick still visible on his throat.

Art grabs him by the shoulders and fixes his tie. “You’re so sloppy. I hope you’re having fun,” he says quietly.

“It’s a lot of fun,” he grins.

—-

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Patrick shrugs in the limo on the ride back to their Brooklyn townhouse. “I mean it worked… I got what I wanted anyway.” He grins at Tashi.

Tashi glares at him and then whispers in Art's ear. “He’s so fucking annoying. Can you punish him?”

Art smiles, nodding as he gazes at Patrick. He doesn’t do it that night. Not even that week. It’s a random afternoon when Tashi’s away at a gymnastics meet with Lily and Art’s got all day.

“I’m not being mean. I just want you to say sorry,” Art says softly. They’re in the guest bedroom where Patrick pretends to sleep when they have company. He’s teasing himself along Patrick’s entrance. He’s been doing it for nearly an hour now. He slowly starts jerking himself off and Patrick looks up at him, flushed all over, he’s covered in a sheen of sweat, his muscles are taut, his cock is upright resting against his stomach, it’s swollen purplepink, and leaking. Patrick can't look away from him, fists clenching, he ends up thrusting against the air probably just out of habit as he tries to grab for him.

“Mm, I didn’t say you could touch,” Art breathes. Patrick pulls back, he’s desperate, but not desperate enough to misbehave. Not right now at least. He’s so frustrated though, Art can see it in his eyes how fucking bad he wants him and it’s so hot he ends up coming all over Patrick for the third time (accidentally of course).

“Fuck,” Patrick says breathlessly watching him.

“Mm, it feels so good,” Art moans making sure his come spills on new and different parts of Patrick’s body… he’s got so much near his entrance already.

“Fuck, I said I was sorry sweetheart. Come on, please,” Patrick begs, mindlessly.

“But Patrick, you don’t sound sorry.” Art says softly. “Honestly, you sound like you’re just saying it because you want me to fuck you. sweetheart.”

Patrick groans.

Art smirks, watching him try to focus when he’s clearly so overwhelmed with need. “Or is it that…” He moves, crawling over Patrick so he’s straddling his thighs. “You just want to fuck me.”

“Fuck, yes,” Patrick groans. He bucks his hips right away, eager for the friction.

Art grins, and shoves him back down. Patrick pulls his knees up behind him, trying to get Art to settle on his lap but Art keeps away, pressing down on Patrick’s hips so the only contact is brief and very slight.

“You’re such a slut.” Art sighs, looking over him. “Dick so big you don’t know what to do with it, huh?”

“Yes I do… I promise please, please lemme fuck you,” Patrick whines.

“It’s okay,” Art continues as if he didn’t say anything. “I know you can’t help yourself… it’s so big and so sensitive you’re hard all the time, need to be coming all the time. Can’t sit still. Can’t stop flirting. Teasing. Anything to get off.” He’s ghosting his fingers idly along the base of Patrick’s swollen cock. Patrick’s thighs are quivering behind him. Art feels himself beginning to get aroused again.

“Art please,” Patrick whimpers. “Tashi is… Tashi’s a liar. She was the one teasing me… and it’s not like we… like we got caught. ”

“Mm calling my wife a liar? Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Fuck, Art I— I’ll do anything—please, please I just need to come... it hurts….“

“But isn’t this what you wanted? Didn’t you say you wanted me to fuck you till you couldn’t think, hm? Doesn’t it feel good…when I fuck you?”

“Mm, not like this,” Patrick groans.

Art rubs his cheek where he’s got that scruffy beard that Art actually really likes. His fingers are still wet with jizz and Patrick turns to lick them. Art smirks letting it slide. ”Say you promise you’ll behave next time we’re in public and maybe I’ll let you come.”

“I’ll behave, you know I will.” He lies. “I’ll do whatever you fucking want. Please. You’re so fucking pretty. God, look at you. I just—I wanted you and I couldn’t wait. Please, please, is that so bad?”

Art bites his lip. “Okay Patrick, you can stop whining now. Put this in your mouth till I get really hard again, okay?”

“Can’t I just…can’t I just fuck you?” Patrick says weakly.

“Aww It’s almost like you’re not sorry and you want me to start this all over…” Art says gently. “Is that what you want?”

“No, no, I—okay,” Patrick says eagerly. He sits up and moves between Art's legs, switching their positions.

Art lays back on the bed revelling in the feeling of Patrick taking him in so greedy and desperate. He runs his fingers through Patrick’s hair and smiles.

#challengers #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers fic #challengers smut #tashi duncan #art x patrick #artrick #post challenger throuple #d/s dynamic

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hipsdofangirl · 13 hours ago

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my SVT bias line as HOCKEY PLAYERS

general + romantic headcanons

genre: college au!, hockey au!, some hockey lingo that may be wrong, subtle innuendos but nothing explicit, lowercase intended

note: always after i go to my college’s hockey games i want to write something… also not proofread as always cause i just got back from a game to sit down and write this for an hour straight... PLEASE comment your thoughts cause i need more people to talk to about this

general information:

the svt hockey team can play in any lines, but they prefer their units they dubbed themselves! this is what makes them so dangerous…

yoon jeonghan (04; position: right winger)

very fast but normally has no stamina, causing early line changes. they usually throw him toward the end of the periods to spark fear into the opposing team.

his signature move is flicking the puck to and fro in front of his opponent only to swipe it under his legs.

he loathes getting shoved but he plays it up so his team gets more angry (they always fall for it).

has best lettuce (slang for hair and this shocked me to my core learning about this)

subtly goes offsides and it’s a 50/50 chance of him getting caught.

he is not the type to pick fights but sometimes feels left out when they occur. one time, the other 3 were butting heads with the other team after a shot and he just stood there with an opposing player and just lightly grabbed his stick; the player tried tugging it back but jeonghan would not let go.

normally, after a fight he is immediately with his teammates and checking for any injuries and hearing them complain about the other team. if they are injured, oh boy watch out.

romantic

during warmups before the game, he purposely shoots with force and towards your direction. you can always spot a little smirk (and a giggle which mingyu side eyes him for) whenever you flinch in response

whenever he scores and his teammates hug him, right after he scans the crowd for you. once he spots you, he does his signature ‘click’ noise and salutes you (sometimes you blow a kiss and he dramatically is taken aback).

when he had his injury that took him to out of play for a month, he would always sit beside you, arm resting on your seat. whenever his team would score a goal, a smile donned his face as he clapped; you on the other hand, always stand up and high five the people around you, his face seems to bloom when he watches you with love.

obviously you receive his jersey and he adores you when you wear it. when he first gave it to you, in your apartment, he had to indulge in his free will and squish your cheeks before planting many light kisses.

when you were mad at him, you wore joshua’s jersey. he was not amused for too long as his name wasn’t the only way to claim you.

xu minghao (08; position: left winger)

exchange player

he is the one with the least amount of broken sticks in his usual line up

along with jeonghan he is one of the fastest but has better stamina. he is also agile and flexible, causing opponents to hate going one-on-one with him; he does that meticulous side by side movement but the final one he leans his body to the avoid crashing into the plexiglass (his opponent doesn’t avoid this fate).

toward the start of his second year playing, the coach told him to tone down his anger, so the rest of the year he wasn’t very aggressive, losing points and vigor till hoshi had to have a talk.

now? once second period rolls around and the vibes are set, he will RUIN them. not with physical fights but his ‘light-taps’ with his shoulder and stick seem to blur the line of being a penalty.

romantic

after the whistle has been blown to perform another puck drop in their zone, minghao will always look to you and tap his stick onto the ice.

whenever you get the courage to create a sign, he will read it but then won’t indulge in your schemes; however, when he faces the other way a smile seems to shine through the face shield.

now when HE had his injury, he would also sit next to you. it was awkward when his injuries overlapped with jeonghan’s as you all sat next to each other to cheer. when it was break time and the screens in the middle points to a new ‘____ cam’, jeonghan would look over at him leading minghao to sigh and gave a brief glare to the man. jeonghan would purposely flag down the cameraman and point towards you two. have fun under new situations (kiss cam, dance cam, cowbell cam, you name it).

he wants to teach you how to play or at least how to successfully hit the puck. he desires to indulge in both of your hobbies for a closer connection; even if you can’t skate or is not accessible, he will find a skate park where you two can hit a ball with hockey sticks while complaining about your latest group project.

if the ice is accessible, he will teach you how to skate…oh? you already know how to skate? no, you don’t; he will correct your form or tease you, allowing himself to be barely out of reach as you stretch your hands to lovingly strangle him.

unlike the others on the team, he never asked you to wear his jersey. instead, whenever he visited or you did, he would ‘forget’ or ‘misplace’ his jersey around you and sometimes overnight. he wanted YOU to ask if you could wear it; call it self-consciousness or call it pride, he wanted you to take this step. of course, you always noticed and knew where it was; and of course, one time he happened to catch up trying it on in the spur of the moment. and of course he had to see it off too…

lee seokmin (81; position: center)

originally played baseball as a kid till he fell in love with watching his sister ice skate.

didn’t think he would actually join the college team but he immediately vibed well with the other players.

somehow on the official roster they spelled his name wrong?? who is dokyeom??

at first, he was scared of boarding people or engaging in fights; however, after watching mingyu and wonwoo tag team someone after the pushed woozi out of the goal, he accepted his anger.

the first time he showed aggression was during an argument he had with mingyu: he slammed his bag on the locker room floor and the silence was so loud that everyone teases him about it to this day.

unlike some of his teammates, he continues to occasionally fight; when a fist goes flying and knocks his helmet off, it’s hard to miss that rare dark look (only reserved for some moments you aren’t naive to) before he winds back to tackle the assailant.

ANYWAYS since he is one of the centers, the other members hold amounts of trust for him as he never fails to lighten the mood. with random words that become pregame cheering phrases, or with a jaw-dropping goal that flew just over the shoulder and into the net. even when he barely misses, his teammates will no doubt have his pack and flick it in.

during warmups, he loves ‘missing’ the goal and miraculously a kid gets the puck.

romantic

always looks forward to what sign you created in the crowd and secretly hopes it’s his number written on there.

when the rink has open ice skating, he loves taking you on there. bonus points if you suck cause you know he will hold your hands the whole time (even if you don’t really suck and you are pretending) and beam at you with the prettiest smile and shining eyes.

after games, he WILL ride the bus with you back to your apartment. when you ask how he is going to get back to his place, as the closest bus line doesn’t go that way, he somehow is passed out in your bed: snuggled under your weighted blanket and hugging your plush squishmallow (he eventually abandons it for you when you give in hmm it’s like he was never asleep…you feel bad when you wake up and look over on the floor to see the abandoned mallow’s beady black eyes staring into you).

it’s a little tradition and mini competition between you two to see who can leave the most notes of encouragement for one another! he came so close to crying—when you first started this trend—by placing 7 blue sticky notes littered with words of affirmation and doodles: located on top of his hockey stick, inside his gloves, top of the inside of his helmet, in the side pocket where he holds his water bottle, and on both of his skates.

please please please wear his jersey!!! his mood will sour when you don’t. even if it’s dirty and smells and someone spilled beer on it—don’t worry!! seokmin will give you another one which leads to his coach wondering why he has no jersey (or one that reeks with beer).

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midnight-mourning · 13 hours ago

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DCA Promptober Day 31: Trick or Treat

Last one! Took a little extra time but we finally made it! Hope you enjoy, this is a fun little something something for the Confused Spirit fans in the audience

Additionally, if you have not read Confused Spirit, many of these characters will have no value to you I'm guessing, so, sorry about that. There's also some slight, implied spoilers for the fic as well. That being said, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 6392

Content warning: mentions of blood, injury, and death, reader descretion is advised

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

It's Halloween at the Plex, and you're, well you're not sure how to feel about it. You had to work, meaning your sister and brother are currently out trick or treating with Clara instead of you, which is a bit frustrating. Not to mention, you'd gotten all dressed up and had nowhere to go until you got off in an hour or so.

You think a mandated Halloween party, on top of having to work on a project, wasn't a great combination, but with the glare Sarah had sent in the meeting last week to you and the other division heads, you didn't have much a choice. Have to set a good example and all that.

At the very least, you weren't the only one dressed up, so you didn't look as ridiculous sitting hunched over a desk covered in green paint and fake stitches.

Your team all had various costumes on, differing in degrees of effort and style. Pete went classic vampire, Jesse was a mummy, and Tyler was a zombie. Liv was rocking a great Mia Wallace costume, and Savannah had on a witch hat but really went for it with her makeup look.

Currently, as both a way to kill time and to potentially fix the problem you'd been having, you were all trying your best to fix the issues going on with Fazerblast.

Specifically, something had been messing with both the electric and the mechanical components of the entire attraction. While Lizzy and their team worked to determine what had been causing the random power outages, your goal was attempting to fix the malfunctioning laser guns and rogue staff bots.

You'd tried to tell both Sarah and Rachel that the place really needed shut down for a few days to actually work on it, but no luck. Seems they wanted it open for Halloween, regardless of how bad an idea you thought that was.

When your code crashes again you groan, tempted to run a hand across your face before you remember the paint.

"Frankenstein's monster was a good choice for you. You really sell it," Pete quips, sipping on a blood red slushy in one hand, still typing with the other.

You turn to him, eyes narrow, "Remind me why I'm helping you with coding again? When I could be doing literally anything else?"

"Gives him an ego boost," Jesse answers from across the room, "No offense."

You scoff, turning to the coworker across from you, "Figured as much. Savannah, any word from the company that sold us the trigger pins?"

"Not yet," She sighs, puffing out her cheeks, "But I keep checking the reviews and nobody else has had the same issues we've had here. They shouldn't be freaking out like this."

"Figured that much, too. Liv?"

She looks up and over to you, tired, dead stare on her face as she holds up the phone, "Still on hold. I'm guessing corporate left early for the day and couldn't be bothered to let everyone know."

You grimace, and check the time. It's after six now, the party starts at 6:30. That's more than enough for you at this point.

"Right. You know what, we're done here. Pack it up, we can grab food before the party because I know Sarah's going to be stingy about it."

With muted, half-defeated cheer, your team closes out of their computers and shuffles to the door. Besides Tyler, he's in a great mood still, but you expected as much.

As you're grabbing your jacket and turning out the lights, you swear you see something out of the corner of your eye by your computer. Something purple. When you turn, you find that your computer is on again, login screen staring at you.

"You coming?" Savannah calls from halfway down the hall.

You turn to yell back, "Yeah, give me a sec, just hold the elevator."

Slowly, you walk back over to your computer, giving it a once over. It looks fine, just turned on. You take hold of the mouse, and hover it over the shut off button again. As you click it, the screen freaks out, glitching before turning black. At the same time, a shock goes up your arm and you yelp, purple flashing across your vision.

Dazed, you shake your head, and clutching your arm, make your way out of the office and to the elevator.

You shuffle in, and as the doors close Jesse leans over and mutters to you above the chattering of your team.

"You alright?"

You nod, "Yeah, just, a little tired I guess." Your head feels funny, but otherwise you're fine. You think.

"What'd you do to your hand?" He asks, looking to how you're still holding it.

You let it go, shaking it off and letting it fall to your side, "Stoved it on my way out. I'll live."

He nods and you continue your ascent. But you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. Your arm twitches and at the same time your vision becomes glazed over in a purple hue. You shake your head, and it's gone again.

The upper levels are filled with activity. Kids rush from place to place, already tired parents in tow. The words 'trick or treat!' are echoed everywhere as children go from the different tables and booths set up for the holiday.

If Lisa knew this was going on she'd have a fit that she was out going house to house instead of being here. But asking Clara to watch her in this chaos would have been cruel, and so, the less your sister knew, the better. Besides, Gabe deserved an authentic trick or treating experience as opposed to getting themed-corporate garbage in his candy bucket. For one of his first times at least.

As you pass by the Daycare, seeing many children playing in costumes and such, you see the doors are propped open, and Sun is handing out candy to a long line of trick or treaters.

"Damn Pete, the Daycare Attendant really outshone you huh?" Savannah elbows him and nods to the animatronic's costume.

Sun is also a vampire, with a large black cloak, and white shirt. His pants are somehow all black, and the change of shoes is also a surprise. Two lines of red streak down from his smile, which is still as friendly as ever otherwise.

Pete huffs, "It's literally the same costume, besides he doesn't even have fangs!"

You all start walking again, laughing.

"True, but he wore it better, even without fangs."

The comment causes Pete to start arguing with the speaker, which to the surprise of no one at all, was Jesse.

You keep your gaze on Sun a few moments more, head feeling a bit clearer for just a moment. He glances up suddenly, and waves to you, head tilting just slightly. Surprised, you also wave.

There's a buzz in your pocket. As you start to walk away again you check it.

'Your costume is nice.'

You wait for another message, you don't get one.

'Thanks???' You're confused.

'Something wrong?'

'I just would have expected you to say something snarky at this point. Genuine compliments aren't your style'

You narrowly dodge an eager trick or treater running by you, nodding at their parent as they apologize.

'It's Halloween. I'm in a good mood, don't sour it for me'

You scoff, 'There it is. I don't plan to, though it's tempting to have Clara swing by with the kids just for the fun of it'

From there, your normal bickering comes forth, and you continue it both as you head to the party and while at it. It's a bit busier than you expected, more employees than you expected are there mingling about the dancefloor.

The entire west arcade, like the rest of the Plex, is done up with decorations that set the mood. There's even a fog machine, adding to the spooky but cheerful atmosphere.

You still feel pretty funny though, and thus take the time to go 'cool off' out in the hall for a bit.

It grows worse and you have to lean back against the wall. Head throbbing as you try to drink more punch in the hopes that will solve it. Your vision flashes again, purple, and suddenly you're not in the same location anymore.

It's dark, and you're standing over someone. You can't see their face, it's covered with static. They're crying, hands up in surrender. You feel yourself chuckle, but it's not your voice, your tone is off. It's gravely. Not your own.

Suddenly, out of your control, your hand, which is not your hand but some, clawed, thing, comes down and-

Your vision goes red and you clutch your head in pain. Gasping, you find yourself back in the hallway, back in your body. Back to normal.

You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. You don't know what that was. You don't want to find out, either.

"Not enjoying the party, Andromeda?"

You look up, standing above you is Moon. He's also dressed up for this, wearing a witch costume that has more aspects of his usual wear to it than Sun's did. His color scheme is purple with bits of orange, and his usual hat is replaced by a large witch hat.

You relax, the pain is gone, for now, "Trying to. I've not been feeling so hot, honestly."

"What's wrong?" He sits down across from you, cross-legged.

You shake your head, "I don't know. My head has just been, feeling funny. And hurts. A lot, really. Been blocking it out I guess."

"How unfortunate. Perhaps I could be of help?"

You shrug, "You can try, but don't feel like you have to, either."

Moon holds out his hand to you, and you set your palm on top of his. He intwines your fingers, which makes your face heat up, but you think with all the paint on your face it's impossible to tell. You look up to him, waiting.

"Close your eyes, and take a deep breath," He urges.

You do. The pain has subsided some, though not by much.

"Breathe in," Pause, "Breathe out."

You follow his instructions, each breath helping to soothe you bit by bit.

You realize however, that even with your eyes closed, there's a purplish tint to the blackness behind your eyes. You frown, and notice that it grows when you breath in, and subsides as you breathe out.

Moon's grip tightens on yours, but keeps speaking.

"In," His tone shifts, growing hoarser, sinister? "Out..."

Alarm spikes in your stomach, but yet, your mind stays calm, almost like its-

You open your eyes, smiling softly, "I think I'm good now. Thanks, Moon-man."

He nods.

Then, something occurs to you.

"Wait a minute, shouldn't you be passing out candy to the kids-" You blink, and you're alone in the fully lit hallway.

You rub your eyes, had the lights been on that entire time? You knew that sometimes the two AI could avoid a switch if the light level wasn't fully one way or the other. But this was different.

You don't get to dwell on it, as a scream erupts from inside the west arcade, several others following. Alarmed, you sit up, ignoring the pain in your skull that's back with a vengeance and rush inside.

You find a crowd has gathered around the center of the dancefloor. The music's been cut, and people are muttering with horrified looks at whatever’s in the middle of the group.

As you move past people who are covering their mouths or eyes, some are crying, some are shaking their heads in disbelief. You find your team among them.

"What's going on?" You ask after shoving past another person.

Savannah shakes her head, and Liv cowers further into Tyler's arms. You've never seen him so grim.

You realize two of them are missing, your fear grows, "...Where's Jesse and Pete?"

Tyler nods to the center of the crowd, and you quickly take the few further steps to burst out into the opening, finding your fears confirmed plainly.

Pete sits on the ground, crying as he cradles a body wrapped in white cloth stained red. You have to flick your eyes away from it for a moment, the sight being beyond shocking.

Swallowing and keeping your eyes to the ground, you slowly approach Pete and sit down. Briefly, you find your eyes meeting your, Christ, your dead friend's. His eyes are wide, mouth open in pure horror.

You turn back to the man beside you, setting your hand on his shoulder as he jumps, "What happened?"

"The, the lights cut, just, he just," He can't seem to look away, he's shaking, "I don't, I don't know how this would've, who could've, do-done this..."

You put your other hand on his other shoulder, forcing him to turn and look to you, "Pete. Breathe. Just breathe. Okay?"

He nods slowly, and you turn to behind the crowd behind you, "Please tell me somebody's called the cops?"

"No signal, trying to get ahold of Derrick in the office, but haven't had any luck," You realize that it's Bri who's answering you, looking rather grim in her black cat costume.

You nod, "Right. Who's got basic medical training? I think he's gone into shock."

Someone steps forward, and starts tending to Pete. Someone else comes forward and lays a sheet over Jesse's body. A ghost costume you realize, how ironically morbid.

You stand, and-unfortunately being the person with the most experience in this scenario-try your best to take charge and calm things down. You also feel some level of responsibility, given that all the other Division Heads seem to be missing now.

Working with Bri, you send a group to the security office to see if they can't notify the police of what's happened. Additionally, you try to lock down the area to keep this from getting beyond the walls of this room and causing mass panic. Not to mention, you have no idea who did this, meaning they're still among you as far as you're aware.

It's all going as smooth as it can be until Bri and the other guards’ radios erupt with screaming. Causing you to pause in your discussion with Savannah.

You can barely make out what they're saying, only catching snippets here and there.

"-Something in the office!"

"Everybody's dead, oh god, they're all-"

"Help! Please! Anybody!"

To make matters worse, the lights cut again, sending the growing paranoia among the crowd into a full blown hysteric mob. You can't make out a thing in the dark, and when your head starts aching again, purple blinding you, you know you're a goner for the time being.

Another vison comes to you, this time, the room is dimly lit, and you can tell this is a closet of some kind.

Again, you tower over a cowering figure who you realize is, David? What in the world is he doing here? What is happening?

"I don't know what they see in you, if anything at all," A voice that's not your own, yet comes from you, says. It's familiar but yet you can't-

David's sentence is shaky, "Look, I don't know what you want but I don't want any trouble. Okay?"

"Trouble? Friend, you're in a lot more than just trouble," There's something heavy in your hands, it glints in the light, "I'll tell you what though, if you hold still you'll be saving me a lot!"

Axe, it's an axe and it's swinging, down, down, down-

"Hey, it's alright. You're alright," Bri's shaking you, hand on your shoulder.

You take a deep breath, realizing you're on your knees in a room lit by a red emergency light and some flashlights. Glancing around, you see all your friends, including Abby and even Jacob are here with you. There's a few others who you're guessing are other security guards based on how they stand near the door, on edge.

You look back to Bri, "How'd I get here?"

Bri juts her thumb, "Tyler found you half out of it on the ground and grabbed you. Somehow carried Liv here too."

"I'm stronger than I look," He flexes with a nod.

You manage to crack a weak smile, clutching your head as more pain shoots through it, "What happened? Where are we?"

"Security office by Fazerblast," Bri answers, glancing over at the covered window in the door, which you realize has been barricaded, "Furthest we could get safely with this many people."

"What do you mean by safely?"

She opens her mouth, but Pete speaks up, "The bots have gone awol." You turn to see he's on the ground, leaning up against the wall, blood dripping down the side of his head, face solemn, angry, "They're picking us off one by one. Anybody in sight is getting killed off. Doesn't help that we can't see a fuckin' thing and they can."

Your eyes widen, "What? …but, why? How?"

"Does it matter?" He asks, looking to you now, "We're dead meat if we try to leave, but we're sitting ducks here."

Bri scolds him, "We're not sitting ducks. This our best chance of getting out of here alive. If we can get power to the cameras, even better."

"Working on it," Liv says, something sparking as she speaks, "But I'm not an electrical engineer."

"Just give it up, Liv. There's no point," Pete scoffs, shaking his head.

He and Bri start arguing, Savannah trying to interject to keep the peace.

Someone sits down beside you, hand resting on your shoulder.

It's Abby, her Glamrock makeup is smeared with dried tear streaks, "Hey."

"Hey," You sigh.

She bites her lip, "Are, are your siblings...?"

Your eyes widen and shake your head.

"God no. They're, they're safe. Out trick or treating with Clara," You put a hand to your face, relieved as you realize that fact, "Your brother?"

She sighs, "Also safe. With my parents. Not here. But," She stops, and you know exactly what she's thinking.

You nod, turning away as you hear her sniffle. Your friends are still fighting, the guards by the door are getting antsy, another spark startles Liv and she looks ready to cry. You need to do something.

Your vision turns purple but you shake it off immediately. Whatever this is, it can wait. You're going to make it.

Standing, and clutching your arm to keep it from twitching, you clear your throat, "We're not going to die here. Not on my watch. Bri, you and your guys here have any sort of weapon?"

"Tasers. And there should be a baton in here somewhere. Why, what are you thinking?"

You nod to the control panel for the cameras, "If there's anyone who can get those working in a blackout, it's Lizzy. And I know they were in Fazerblast before all this. Hell, it might've been their team that caused the outage."

"You want to go out there?" Pete asks, "Are you insane?"

You shrug, "Have to be at least a little bit to do this job. Someone give me a radio. We can at least double check before considering it."

Bri hands you her radio, and after a moment's hesitation, you set it to the engineers' channel and hold in on the button, "Lizzy, you still okay out there?"

Quiet. Your friends exchange a few bleak glances.

You're about to try again when, "Uh, yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

Relief, you think Pete even cracks a small smile.

"There's... a lot of shit going down in the Plex right now, how have you not heard about it?"

"Dude we've been stuck in Fazerblast for hours. Besides trying to fix the power the doors got jammed. I'm not leaving until this is done though, so we just kind of ignored it. Did think it was weird there was no parents complaining about not being able to use a half-functioning attraction though." Their tone is so casual you have no choice but to believe it.

The information, however, is huge, "That's, actually the best case scenario for us right now. So listen up, we gotta do this right or we don't stand a chance."

After explaining the full situation to Lizzy and their team, you work with your friends to come up with a plan. A good one. Something tells you you're only going to get one shot at this.

Meanwhile, you struggle to keep it together. You keep getting more and more flashes of that other perspective. Speaking in those voices that you can't quite place how you know. Increasingly, you start to recognize the locations they're in are getting more familiar to where you are currently.

It's a no brainer to you then, that you're a part of the team that goes to retrieve Lizzy. You force Bri to stay in the office, along with one of the guards. If you don't make it back, you at least want some people to stay safe.

You try and fail in vein to stop Pete and Abby from coming with you, Tyler picks you up again when you question him coming along.

"We're better off in even groups," Pete argues, gripping the metal chair leg he stole tightly, "Makes our chances that much better."

You don't disagree, but you don't like it either, "Fine, you're right. Now put me down please, Ty."

"Can do boss," He sets you down.

You're all armed as best you can. The guard, Joseph, has a taser, and Tyler has-apparently-pure brute force on his side. Pete has the chair leg, which is similar to the stun baton you're carrying.

Abby has brass knuckles. You don't know how she has those but you're not going to question it. Apparently, Utah state law doesn't have any clauses relating to them, now you know.

You move quickly and silently through open darkness to get to the staff entrance to Fazerblast, which is thankfully only a short distance away. You all stay close, not saying a word as you navigate.

There's not a soul around, human or machine. You don't know if it you puts you more on edge or not.

When you get to the door, Pete's able to get it open quickly, and you all file inside, locking it again soon thereafter.

The light inside the attraction is blinding in comparison to the darkness outside, the music and sound effects playing as if everything is entirely normal. It's almost more eerie in that regard.

You find Lizzy and their crew sitting around one of the towers, the reunion is brief, but happy. It's agreed that the senior engineer will come with your group, and the parts and service crew will stay for safety reasons. You're about to depart again, when the radio starts going crazy.

"We've got issues here!" Bri shouts down the line, "Don't come back, it's not safe!"

Static blares from the device, followed by banging, shouting, crying, and then a loud crash. The silence that follows is deafening.

"Fuck. No, no, no," You bang on the side of the radio, "Come on, Bri! Savannah! Anyone!?"

No answer.

"Dammit!" You toss the radio to the side, hands coming up to grip the sides of your head, "Dammit, dammit, dammit."

A hand on your shoulder, Abby again, "There's nothing we can do right now. We're going to have to refocus. Plan. Hope that they'll be okay-"

There's a banging at the front entrance to Fazerblast. Everyone freezes.

You think quickly as the sound grows in volume, "Lizzy, how in control of the power are you currently?"

They dig through their bag, and toss you a makeshift remote, "It's what we've been using to test."

The pounding gets louder, and the shutter creaks.

"Everybody who isn't armed find a place to hide. The rest of you are with me. We're gonna flip the tables on them."

Everyone scatters, and you make your way to the doors. You have no idea what's on the other side of that metal shutter, but you're going to find out one way or another. You'd rather it be on your terms.

"Can you get it open?" You ask Pete, hitting the lights and leaving only a flashlight to see.

He nods, "You're sure about this?"

"As I'll ever be. Abby, Joe, Ty, go hide nearby. We'll assess the biggest threat and go from there."

They all nod, and head off into the darkness.

Pete gets the panel open, taking a deep breath, "I hope you're right."

You press your back against the wall beside the panel, almost accustom to the feeling of your vision switching to purple. That other perspective is right outside now. You see Freddy is the one banging on the door, along with several map bots. You squeeze your eyes shut and you're back in your body again.

"Me too."

There's a beep, and the shutter slowly starts to raise. Quickly, you grab Pete and shove him on the other side of you, using your arm to press him up against the wall beside you.

As bots start pouring in, you lean your head back against the wall, holding your breath.

You watch as they fan out, scouring for anyone that they think is in here. They don't see you. You relax slightly.

You turn to Pete and nod, guarding him as he moves and shuts the door again, it quietly sinks back to the ground, locking you in here for the time being.

Moving across the wall, you regroup with the others.

"I counted six staff bots, and Freddy," Abby whispers. The other three agree.

Pete keeps lookout on your corner, "The music still playing helps us a little, but not a lot. We stick together, and go one by one, saving Freddy for last."

You frown, "Freddy's not last."

"What do you mean? Of course he is, he's going to be the hardest to take down."

You shake your head, "You miscounted. There's one more animatronic that made it in."

"Who?"

Off in the distance, you hear it, the jingle of bells. There's a flash of red as he lands on one of the walls, far off from you but within your line of sight.

You shake away the purple again, knowing it's going to show you what he's seeing at that moment, "Moon."

You fare better than you expected. A bunch of humans versus machines. You manage to take down three of the staffs bots in the dark, and by screwing with the lights a few times, manage to disorient the Daycare Attendant enough to keep them from discovering your location.

However, one of the parts n services guys gets found out, and his terrified screams as your claws rip him apart send, something, down your spine.

You know something's wrong with you now. You're taking far too much joy in beating in the metal skull of the staff bot below you. Oil splattering your clothes and face. You feel manic, alive. Out of control.

You shake your head, stopping. You ignore the glances being sent your way, you have to make it through this.

With this one you realize there's only one more staff bot left, then it's just Freddy and the Daycare Attendant. You flick the lights off again, huddling together with the others.

"If we go for one, the other is going to know. Our best bet is to divide and conquer," Pete says.

You nod, "One person with an electric weapon per team, one with something heavy. Tyler, you go with the group at the disadvantage to even it out."

Your teams end up being Joseph, Abby, and Tyler together to take on Freddy, leaving you and Pete to deal with Moon.

You trudge through the darkness, silence between the two of you.

There's been a voice in your head for a bit now. You block out whatever it says. Your grip feels shaky on the baton, and you can tell Pete's on edge more because of you than the looming threat somewhere out in the dark.

Keep it together. You just have to keep it together.

"Hello, Diana."

You turn, he pulls you up into the air, away from Pete. You don't even think to scream, instead only able to watch terrified as the ground and your friend get further and further away.

Moon settles on one of the towers to set you down again, and you scramble back and fall onto the ground, looking up at him with fear.

His faceplate twists, observing you. Then, his eyes narrow cheekily and he chuckles lowly.

"What's the matter, Bright Eyes? You look like you've seen a ghost."

You bit your lip as it trembles, raising the baton as a threat, "W-with how this night is going it's, certainly a possibility."

"But that's not my costume now, is it?" He takes a step closer.

You hold firm with the baton, hitting the button for the taser part to go off, "Moon-man, I don't want to hurt you. Don't make me."

The spark seems to deter him, growling.

"Why are you doing this? What did any of these people do to you?" You ask, beg in your words, "Killing innocent people? That's not you."

Moon snickers, and despite your waving of the baton, he moves closer, clawed finger resting on the end of it. He presses it down as he crouches to your level.

You now sit eye to eye with him as he speaks, "Andromeda, would you like to know a secret?"

Your grip tightens on your weapon, head shaking once. That doesn't deter him.

He leans in closer, his smile hovering just above your lips.

"This is the best Halloween I've ever had," Then, he kisses you. You're so surprised that you don't feel the baton be taken from your hand until it's gone.

He pulls away, chuckling again.

A loud bang suddenly resonates in the space, and the Naptime Attendant starts to twitch and collapse on the ground in front of you.

Pete stands over you both, breathing heavy as he clutches the chair leg in both hands.

"Sorry, had to take the stairs."

Moon snarls and flips around, hand raising ready to slash across the man's chest.

Panicked, you hit the button for the lights.

But it's too late.

As Sun's rays pop out, one by one, Pete can only stand there, blood slowly starting to soak through his shirt. He coughs, then takes a step forward, then another, stumbling past you into the wall. You quickly flip around as he collapses back against it, breathing ragged.

"Well, at least now you look authentic," You turn back to see Sun standing hunched over, clutching his faceplate, "Though, it's still not quite as good as mine."

As he straightens, you have to suppress a gasp as it's revealed that one of his optics has shattered from the previous impact.

His rays twitch and his focus snaps to you as you stand.

His faceplate clicks to the side, "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Sunshine."

"Sun." You can't reach for your baton without it being obvious.

"Are you having a good Halloween? I know I am." He tsks, "A pity about your costume, though I suppose the grit and grime really sells it."

You take a deep breath, running the back of your hand under your nose to wipe away the blood that's dripping. Your vison flashes purple, and for a moment you find you’re staring down at yourself.

You're a mess. Hair all over the place, clothes torn. There's streaks in the paint covering your skin. There's still blood coming out your nose a little bit.

And your eyes are bright purple.

You come back to and watch Sun's eyes narrow.

You shift slightly, hand twitching.

You see there’s a slight shadow over Sun’s eyes. And in his good optic a small white pupil flicks to your hand. You swallow.

"Don't do something you'll regret, Icarus."

You stamp your foot down onto the baton, it pops up into your hand and you click to turn it on.

You jut your chin out, tilting your head slightly, "Come on, Sun. You know me better than that."

You rush forward, he steps back, dodging and spinning to face you as you charge again. It's almost like a dance of danger. And it truly becomes one when Sun takes one of your hands and spins you around, dipping you low and back up as you try and fail again to use the baton on him.

You let out a noise of frustration. Charging forward again, the two of you go round and round. Narrowly you miss him every time. Narrowly he dodges every swing. He’s fast. Faster than you’d have ever anticipated, than he’d ever let on about. You never realized how close to death you may have been all this time.

After another miss, this one the closet you’ve gotten yet, Sun puts an end to your game. He grabs hold of the baton, only flinching as you turn it on, and rips it from your grip, tossing it aside. He spins you into his arms and holds tight.

You fight against him in vain.

"You know, Bright Eyes. I would have thought you'd appreciate your treat a bit more than this," He snarls the words, "But maybe you've been too busy resisting it to do so."

You slow your struggling, and Sun releases you finally. The words having done the job far better than his hold to sedate you.

You turn to face him cautiously.

"You, you did this?" You ask, "You did this to me?"

Sun tuts, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, "Well, technically you did it to yourself, Bright Eyes. But I'm happy you did. Makes all of this much, much easier."

It suddenly hits you that he's right. Maybe not intentionally, or fully knowing, but you made the choice to go back to the computer. You chose to try and turn it off again. You could have left the office, it would've shut down eventually. Something had compelled you to come closer and investigate, and you had made the choice to listen.

And now you were suffering from the cost.

"Now, let's finish this up, hm?" Sun bends and kisses you, pulling away after a moment, "You wouldn't want to disappoint now, would you?"

You don't answer. Your feet move on their own as they turn to face Pete, who seems to realize what's happening before you do.

He clutches the wound on his stomach tighter, breathing quickening, "Come on, snap out of it! This isn't you! You know it's not."

"Quiet over there, you'll get your chance to speak in just a moment," There's something set down in your hands, you know what it is, "Don't worry, I'll help you. No need for tears."

You find that you are crying, but can't do a thing to stop it. Your body is not your own, your emotions are not your own. You are entirely out of control as Sun guides you to march staggeredly towards Pete.

Off in the distance you hear shouting as your remaining friends try in vain to take down Freddy. Not that it mattered. Even if they did, you'd be finishing the job.

Your breathing is heavy but controlled, grip on the axe tight, all you can do is stare down at Pete, who looks up at you horrified, eyes wide. You think the look matches the fear in your own gaze.

Sun's hands are on your shoulders, voice a purr in your ear, "Go on, Starlight. You know what you need to do."

The axe raises jerkily, fighting against it and losing. Your eyes snap shut, and it comes down. Again, and again, and again.

You block out everything, all noise, all touches. You block out the sound of sickening crunches and squelches, of Pete's heavy gasps, of Sun murmuring encouragement right beside you all the while.

You block out the wood rough against the skin of your hands, the blood, sweat, and tears, running down your face. Sun's hands wrapped around your waist, head resting on your shoulder.

You suddenly regain control and your eyes shoot open, throwing the axe away from you and stumbling back into Sun's arms. Your hands come up to your face as you sob, shaking your head.

He just holds you as you cry, muttering things you can't comprehend as he presses kisses to your hair.

When you finally subside to sniffles is when he pulls back to press a kiss to your lips.

"There, there, you're alright, Bright Eyes. Come on now," He lifts you to your feet, arms pulling you closer as he leans in for another kiss, "I'll let you pick who's next, how's that?"

You shoot up from your bed, heart racing. You clutch your chest, breathing hard.

You're at home. Sitting on your bed. You're fine. Everything's fine.

There's a yawn to your left that interrupts your thoughts.

It's Gabe, laying on the bed beside you in his pumpkin costume. He yawns again, and stares curiously up at you, fist in his mouth. You pat his head with a sigh.

Right, you were going to put him down for a nap before heading out to trick or treat, then go to the Plex for the same thing. Looks like you ended up taking a nap too.

You check the time, it's almost five. Suddenly, a thought hits you square in the face.

"Did I kiss Sun?" You say aloud.

You do your best to recall the fading nightmare.

Oh god, you did. Right on his stupid flat face. Multiple times. You kissed Moon to but you're less opposed to that albeit confused-but Sun?

Involuntarily you gag, now feeling the sudden urge to rinse out your mouth, even if it had just been to his faceplate, much less a dream.

Shaking your head, you turn to look down at your brother, who's now somehow managed to get his foot in his mouth, despite his costume.

"Gabe, never down a bag of sour gummies and immediately take a nap, it'll give you crazy dreams."

You think you might leave the trick or treating to the kids tonight.

Something tells you that it’s for the best.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Oof, what a doozy huh? Imagine being the final girl AND the killer... crazy. Good thing it was all just a dream. Here's the promptober list and the spookvember schedule. Thanks for reading as always-

Oh?

What's this?

Looks like there's a link down here.

How'd that get there?

...

Hm.

You should click it. See what happens.

CLICK ME

btw the song playing while writing the fight scene was I Go Crazy - Orla Gartland and it was a VIBE and a half let me tell you-

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kazoosandfannypacks · 3 days ago

Text

summary: ezra bridger has been following online microcelebrity spectre_pheonix for years. although her online identity is shrouded in mystery, he may be closer to her than he realizes. word count: 7309 (7974 counting alt text) co-authorship note: the video game sequences featured in this fic were written by my co-author, shadow-ninja-13, who also helped me figure out a few plot things and what video games to include where. he's also my teenage brother, known by some on this site as skyguy, and he's the coolest kid on the planet!a/n: After so, so, so much time working on this fic and talking it up IT'S FINALLY FINISHED!!! Shoutout to my tumblr follows for helping me out with a couple ideas in this fic! Some of this fic is told in embedded images. I have added alt text, so it should be accessible via screenreader as well. I can probably make a pdf copy of a full plaintext version of the story available if anyone needs it! taglist: @laughingphoenixleader@accidental-spice@kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse@dootchster @lucasbridger@redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech @jedimandalorian@notanodinarygirl {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

need a player 2?

No, that definitely sounded insincere.

Ezra backspaced the message he'd typed into the livestream chat, then typed something else.

Duh. Too obvious. Try again.

Perfect.

Ezra hit the send button and waited for a response. It was very rare that spectre_pheonix responded to any of the hundreds of thousands of comments she'd get on her streams, but that didn't stop Ezra from hoping.

Ezra watched as the player found the Warthog, and perfectly drove, splattering the Aliens that got in her way. Nearby there was a small opening, he watched the player take the truck through, by driving on the stone wall. If she flipped, it’d be all over. If not, she’d be more awesome than usual. The landing was about to happen, the anxiety was building, and then… a hand got in between him and the phone, blocking his view entirely.

"Hey," Ezra said, pulling his headphone off of one ear so he could yell at his roommate, whose hand covered his phone.

"Hey yourself," Jai said, "we gotta get going; we're gonna be late."

Ezra hadn't looked at a clock since the stream had started, which was apparently three hours ago. Somehow it was already fifteen minutes before the dining hall stopped serving dinner, and it was at least a ten minute walk down that way.

"Shoot," Ezra sprang to his feet, "I must've lost track of time again."

"Because you were watching that gamer girl?" Jai asked, leaning on the doorframe.

"Maybe," Ezra said, as he reached for the nearest matching pair of shoes he could stuff his feet into.

"What's so interesting about watching someone game, anyways?" Jai asked.

"I think it's about loyalty now more than anything," Ezra said, "I've been watching her stream since before she became popular. It just wouldn't be right if I didn't watch her gaming sessions, especially when it's a game I love. Besides, she just has this way about her. She's so cool, so collected, so…."

"....hot?" Jai attempted to finish for him with a smile.

"I wouldn't know," Ezra said, "she's very good about keeping her personal life personal. I've never seen her face. No one has."

"So she's a mystery girl."

"She's just like any other celebrity," Ezra defended.

"So you mean she'd be way out of your league even if you knew who she was?" Jai asked.

"More like I haven't even considered it," Ezra said, "I'm one of millions of fans."

"Isn't her follower count only…"

"Enough talking," Ezra said, pulling Jai out the door of their dorm room, "I heard a rumor it's pizza night in the dining hall."

And with that, both boys were off on a new quest: Obtain Pizza.

💜.🎮.🧡

"I wonder how they'd react if they knew who was in the room with them," Sabine thought, sitting alone with her sketchbook in a corner of her college's student center.

Across the room, a group of boys were having a heated discussion over their game of Smash Bros. She didn't try to eavesdrop, but she'd always been aware of the world around her, and definitely heard the words "spectre" "phoenix" and "most influential gamer of our generation."

"You must be trippin'," one of them said, "her 'let's plays' are nothing more than a halfhearted follower grab."

"Oh, like you'd know," another said, "your youtube channel has, what, seventeen followers? Oh, and you just came in last place, again."

Sabine looked back up at their game to see that the fourth-place gamer had been playing as Bowser, then watched Diddy Kong deal a crippling blow on Captain Falcon.

Then, she glanced at the players, all of them laughing and roasting each other. One wore a t-shirt that said "official spectre spectator," and another had a hat on backwards with spectre_pheonix's logo on it. Sabine would recognize that merch anywhere— after all, she was the one who designed it— as merch for her own shop, and she couldn't say she was disappointed by how much praise its wearers spoke of her with.

"If only they knew who I was," Sabine thought, but she quickly reminded herself she was glad they didn't. Though she was thankful for her followers and their merch money paying her tuition, she wasn't prepared to have toxic dudebros hounding her everywhere she went. And once word got out at college that she was spectre_pheonix, there would go any sense of normalcy she had. Besides, if word about it slipped back home to her parents, she'd be deeper trouble than she already was.

So before she could do something regrettable and talk to them, she packed up her stuff and moved to a different study spot.

💜.🎮.🧡

The Flood surrounded her. In an unexpected turn of events, the creepiest enemy in the entire Halo saga had been introduced. She fired her assault rifle at the hoards of Flood crawling on the ground. The salvo was effective, but costly. She had forty rounds plus one full clip, but that wouldn’t be enough. As she walked the character up some stairs, she found allies, and promptly borrowed their ammo. At the end of the swamp, she encountered the monitor, and watched the cutscene at the end of 343 Guilty Spark.

"Sorry guys, gotta stop the stream for the night," Sabine said, "it's well past midnight here, and I've got an eight a.m. class."

She watched the comment section flare up with responses.

💜.🎮.🧡

Ezra stumbled into class a couple minutes late, but he was sure his professor would understand. It wasn't his fault that spectre_pheonix had been streaming late last night, right? As long as he quietly slipped into the back of the classroom, no one would notice anyways.

"Mr. Bridger," Professor Syndulla called to him as he tried in vain to hide his late entry, "so glad you've decided to join us this morning."

Ezra turned around and tried to hide his guilty expression.

"Of course, ma'am," Ezra said, with a dramatic salute, "I'd never miss out on one of my favorite teacher's classes."

"Flattery gets you nowhere in my class," the professor said, "take a seat, and we'll continue."

"Yes ma'am," Ezra said. He took a seat as close to the back of the room as he could and pulled out his laptop to take notes.

Ezra tried his best to pay attention, but the lack of sleep was getting the better of him as Professor Syndulla's lesson dragged on.

"Maybe I could get dad to sit in on class and take notes for me sometime," Ezra thought, "he could listen to her talk for hours."

It was, admittedly, a little weird that his adoptive father was dating his psychology professor, but at least her letter of recommendation helped him get into this school— on the condition that he "applied himself diligently to his studies" and didn't "discredit her influence by trying to coast on it" and all that other stuff they'd told him when she'd suggested he attend Atollon Alliance University.

"But I'm definitely not 'diligently applying myself' if I fall asleep in class," Ezra thought, the notes document before him blurring before his eyes, "and I need to do something to stay awake."

So, he turned to the one thing he'd never be able to sleep through— one of the many videos in his "watch later" tab on youtube. After double checking to make sure his laptop's sound was off and muted— you could never be too careful— he clicked a video titled "spectre_pehonix's top FIFTY EPIC saves!!!" and watched along as he listened to Professor Syndulla's lesson, finding that all that boring stuff about psychology was a lot more interesting when he also had spectre_phonix’s abilities with some grenades against Wraiths, Hunters, and Banshees to focus on.

💜.🎮.🧡

Class wasn't the only time Ezra used gaming videos to focus. He'd never been one for focusing on one task at a time, and usually found that if he sat down to study, he'd end up pulling out his phone and watching videos on YouTube anyways, and that it was better in the long run to start out with some gaming recap video in the background— except on days when spectre_pheonix was streaming during his study sessions, of course, and he'd watch it live, streaming Twitch in one window on his computer and whatever essay he was nearing the deadline on in the other.

Today, for example, he had her stream of Halo in the background of a rousing essay of the themes and morals of The Octopus.

The clock was ticking. 4:23 seconds left to go. The clock only counted down. She drove the Warthog through the groups of retreating Aliens and Flood. 4:07 seconds left to go by this point. She was told to stop, but she knew that that evac point wouldn’t help her. She’d played before, and she knew that the evacuation Pelican was shot down. She kept on driving. At max speed she used an odd floor detailing as a ramp, and jumped a whole group. The stress and tension of the final level made normal players stressed, but not Sabine. 2:25 left on the clock. The point was only about one kilometer away. She kept going, and going, and going. Nothing could stop her now. 1:22 left on the clock, she was within one kilometer away. She would make it! Unless she flipped by mistake. :44 seconds and counting! She saw the Pelican, and started running. She could take the Warthog no farther. She jumped in the Pelican at the last second. Barely beating Halo: Combat Evolved.

"It's like my teacher always says," spectre_pheonix said, "when things are at their worst, I feel like I'm at my best."

Ezra had only been half focusing, but this statement warranted his full attention. It wasn't as though the statement was profound or original— in fact, he'd heard it before. Abandoning his book report for the moment, Ezra expanded the Twitch tab across his whole screen, and ran it back ten seconds, thinking maybe his brain was playing some cruel trick on him.

"When things are at their worst, I feel like I'm at my best."

"That's exactly what Professor Syndulla said in psych class today." Ezra thought, "Is spectre_pheonix in my psychology class? Does she go to Attalon Alliance University too? No, that's crazy. Isn't it?"

His thoughts soon became a cluttered and jumbled mess, so he pulled out a notebook, flipped to random blank page, and after forty-seven minutes had constructed a list that looked something like this:

His results were inconclusive, but he suddenly remembered the book report due in less than an hour, and the two-thousand seventy-three words short he was from the word count.

💜.🎮.🧡

The last decade or so had gone pretty much exactly as Hera had planned. After realizing how important it was to her to help guide young people to their place in the world, she'd set her sights on a philosophy PHD so she could teach at Attalon Alliance University. She'd graduated with honors, and soon began teaching, and it was just as fulfilling as she'd planned it would be.

But what she hadn't considered in her plans was falling in love. When she was in college, she'd been too focused on her studies, and later on her duties as an RA in her dorm, to even consider pursuing a relationship, and by then, well, she figured there weren't a lot of single men in their late twenties interested in dating philosophy professors, so she poured herself into her work instead, and building good connections with her students as much as she could.

But, apparently, she hadn't been entirely correct in her assessment of her prospects. There was, apparently, at least one single man in his late twenties interested in dating philosophy professors— a man by the name of Kanan Jarrus, one who'd figured there weren't a lot of single women in their late twenties interested in dating the kind of guy who'd adopted an eight year old at the age of twenty-one and now had a sixteen year-old son who spent most of his time either playing video games or watching other people play them.

Hera had met Kanan in a chance run-in at a Wisconsin cheese festival, and though there was no denying the spark between them, it took a couple more chance run-ins before she'd agreed to a date. Their relationship progressed slowly, with Hera's career and Kanan's delicate balance of providing for and raising his son, but they'd had more time to see each other over the past year, since his son had enrolled at Attalon Alliance University.

"Morning, Professor Syndulla," Ezra grinned, walking into class one morning.

Though all of Hera's students may as well have been her children, she had a special fondness for that one— and took extra caution to make sure she didn't give him special treatment. Though he hadn't fathered Ezra, Kanan's influence on his life was evident through his actions. Ezra shared a lot of mannerisms with his dad, including an answer or an excuse always at the ready, and a charming smile he seemed to think would absolve himself of guilt. However, there were a lot of qualities they didn't share, and one of them was Ezra's propensity to be late.

It was this propensity for lateness that made Hera do a double-take. Class wouldn't start for another five minutes, and Ezra was here, in class, early.

"Good morning, Mr. Bridger," Hera said, "is there any particular reason you've shown up on time this morning?"

"Maybe I'm finally taking this whole 'education' thing seriously?" Ezra suggested.

"Mhmm," Hera nodded, "and maybe a certain gamer wasn't streaming last night."

"Well, there's that too," Ezra rolled his eyes and headed for his usual seat, towards the back of the classroom.

She watched as the rest of the students made their way into the classroom, and another one caught her attention, and not just because of her brightly colored hair.

"Miss Wren," Hera said, "I enjoyed reading your paper last night."

"Thanks, Professor Syndulla."

That was the entirety of their interaction, but Hera could tell by the smile on her student's face that she had taken it to heart. One time during Sabine Wren's first semester, Professor Syndulla had complimented something she said in class, and from the expression on her face, Hera could tell that kind of positive affirmation was foreign to Sabine— and she made it her personal mission to make sure it wasn't foreign to her anymore. Though their conversations rarely went further than a compliment on the student's hard work and a thank you for the professor, Hera could tell that Sabine appreciated it, in her own way.

💜.🎮.🧡

Ezra had had his own reasons for coming into class on time, and not just to improve his education. He hadn't abandoned his spectre search (or "wild ghost chase," as Jai had called it when Ezra explained it to him,) and his biggest evidence pointed to this class. Maybe if he actually showed up on time, he could get to know his classmates well enough to find out if one of them was her. Instead of listening to her in his headphones as their professor taught, he listened for her in his classroom as their professor took the students' questions, which didn't increase his focus on the lesson at all, but it did give him something to do in class other than watch YouTube recaps and pretend to be taking notes, so it was a nice change of pace.

After class, he hung around a little longer than normal, standing by one of the classroom doorways to see what he could overhear.

When only a few students remained in the classroom, Professor Syndulla approached him.

"Alright, Bridger," she said, "what's your angle?"

"Angle?" Ezra asked, "why do you assume I have 'an angle?'"

"You came to class five minutes early, and instead of making a break for the door as soon as possible, you're hanging around after class is dismissed. Pardon me for being suspicious."

Ezra didn't respond.

"If there's ever anything you want to talk about, I'm here," she said.

"Look, it's nothing," Ezra said, "don't worry about it."

Ezra decided to turn heel and leave before his dad's girlfriend started psychoanalyzing him again.

What Ezra hadn't counted on was someone else walking through the doorway at the same time, and him running into her.

"Watch where you're going," she grumbled, as a textbook and a few notebooks fell out of her arms.

Ezra had seen this kind of scene in movies before, so he figured he may as well pick up the textbooks for her.

"I'm so sorry," he said, crouching down and grabbing the books off the floor, "I didn't…"

She sighed. "It's alright."

Her voice almost seemed familiar— no, it did seem familiar.

"Here you go," Ezra said, getting up and handing her the books, "I, uh…."

He stumbled over his words, because not only did he recognize her voice as one of his favorites in the world, but when he looked up at her face, he saw rich brown eyes, and hair the same color as spectre_pheonix's logo.

"You're good," she smiled as she took the books from him.

"I, uh," he scratched his neck, "I like your hair."

"Nice shirt," she said, and winked as she walked away.

He looked back at her as she left, then back down at his shirt— his favorite shirt he'd ever gotten from his favorite streamer's online shop.

💜.🎮.🧡

Even when Sabine got back to her dorm room after class, the boy who'd bumped into her after class was still on her mind. There wasn't anything exceptional about him, but there was some kind of awe that sparkled across his blue eyes that almost made her feel special.

So, as soon as she got back to her dorm room, weird as it sounded, she decided to draw him— not his whole face, just those eyes that had been fixed on her, tucked between a shaggy crop of hair, and those mysterious scars underneath. It wasn't abnormal for her to draw inspiration from people she'd seen around campus like that.

She also could tell that he must've been a longtime fan of hers. She hadn't sold the "spectre spectator" shirt on her merch site for a couple years, but he had one, and he wore it proudly. She tried to remind herself that there was no way he could've known it was her; she'd been so careful not to leave a trace of her real self online.

Still, as she saw the awe on this fanboy's face, she wondered if that's how all her followers would respond to seeing her. Her follower count was just a number, but she wondered if that number was all awestruck and loyal followers like that one.

So, once she finished the sketch, she went to her Twitch profile. Six-hundred, seven-thousand and eighty-three followers. Six-hundred, seven-thousand and eighty-three people, people just like the one she met today, who appreciated her with an awestruck wonder.

She scrolled through the list of names, and noticed one near the top of the list— spectre_6, whose username she'd seen in the comments of many of her videos over the years. The notification said they were streaming Terraria, and, out of curiosity, she pulled up the stream and decided to check it out.

💜.🎮.🧡

It wasn't very often that Ezra found himself with free time. When he wasn't watching spectre_pheonix's livestreams, or doing homework, or attempting to do both at the same time, he was usually sleeping or hanging out with his friends.

However, today after class, he found himself with free time enough to do a little digging, and add a new page to his conspiracy:

It seemed like a good enough list for now, so he decided that, since spectre_pheonix wasn't streaming right now, he may as well pull up Terraria and do a little streaming of his own.

He was crawling through the pink blocks of his dungeon. Wielding his trusty Horseman’s Blade, he walked through the rough stones of this monster-ridden dungeon. He jumped down a shaft, relying on his jet pack to keep him from dying on the ground. He used the melee/range sword to promptly cut down a nearby Necromancer. He kept running through, and quickly slew several Blue Armored Bones.

Ezra heard the blip of activity in his comment section, and glanced at the sidebar on his screen. It wasn't unheard of for him to get comments on his streams, but it also wasn't very common either.

He glanced at the comment, then did a double take and a triple take. The color of the name was familiar. The username was familiar. There was a checkmark next to her name to show he was following her.

Ezra's heart skipped several beats, like when your teacher calls on you in class, but in a good way, like when you're prepared for it— but he wasn't prepared for this at all, no matter how much he'd dreamed it would happen.

Spectre_pheonix had commented on one of his livestreams.

"OH MY GOSH!" he yelled into the mic, not noticing The Paladin behind him until it was too late. Quite frankly, he didn't care that his “Incompetence was put on display by Paladin’s Hammer” because at least being dead gave him a chance to respond to her comment.

He tried to get back into his game, but couldn't focus, especially when she responded.

She didn't reply to that, and he wondered if she was still even watching. Rather than just check in a normal way, he instead blurted, "spectre_pheonix, if you're still watching, wanna do a collab sometime?"

He was mentally kicking himself in the shins for asking such a foolish question, but was excited when he saw a reply in the comments section:

💜.🎮.🧡

The past week had pretty much been the best week of Ezra's life. Spectre_pheonix rarely collabed with anyone, but the past week they'd joined in together for Minecraft, LEGO Star Wars: The Clone Wars, and Dust: An Elysian Tale, the latter of which, being single player, was just spectre_pheonix playing and spectre_6 giving commentary. Not only was this a dream come true, but it also boosted his meager follower count, and Jai had even stopped picking on him for his fantasy fanboying, instead jokingly referring to Ezra's collabs as "the closest thing he'd ever get to a date." Ezra didn't care.

He'd also been on the lookout more and more for that girl he'd run into, Sabine. Whether or not Sabine was spectre_pheonix, he had yet to decide on, but that didn't change the fact that she was still a pretty girl who'd smiled at him at least once, which definitely kept her in the forefront of Ezra's mind.

💜.🎮.🧡

Sabine rarely shared any information about herself online, but it was hard to plan collab information via Twitch, so she'd exchanged discord handles with spectre_6. Admittedly, he would've been as great a gamer as she was, if maybe he'd had a little more practice playing instead of just spectating. Still, collabs with him were enjoyable, and his sense of humor turned even Dark Souls into a hilarious adventure.

As she took notes on Professor Syndulla's class on her laptop, she kept discord open in a separate tab.

"Miss Wren?" Professor Syndulla asked, "is there something humorous about my lesson on how having traumatic experiences as a child inhibit our ability to make connections in the future?"

"No, ma'am," Sabine said. She hadn't realized how much of a mistake it would be to message spectre_6 in class until now. Usually, the people she'd chat with in class didn't have nearly as great a sense of humor as he did. Surely that was the only reason his conversations had her giggling in the middle of psych class.

💜.🎮.🧡

Ezra had done just enough research in class to find out everything he needed to know about Sabine. He'd positioned himself where he could see her, notice the deep gray of discord in the side corner of her computer next to the class notes. She typed in response to his messages. She laughed in response to his messages. When the teacher called her out for giggling in class, the same thing apparently happened to spectre_pheonix. She closed discord and payed attention in class at the same time spectre_pheonic did.

Ezra was convinced now more than ever: spectre_pheonix's real name was Sabine Wren, and she'd been in his psychology class this whole time.

She was a very private person, and someone finding out who she was definitely wasn't on her radar with how careful she'd been about personal details, so he knew if he brought it up, he'd have to breach the subject very, very carefully.

💜.🎮.🧡

"I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!"

Sabine looked up from her notebook with a start, intending to stick around after class so she could apologize to Professor Syndulla, not so that some random peer could slam his hands on her desk and yell ungrounded accusations at her.

But to her surprise, and in some ways her delight, the student she saw in front of her was the boy she'd bumped into last week, with the same soft blue eyes, the same dark, shaggy hair, and the same purple and orange shirt she'd once sold on her shop.

"What do you mean?" Sabine asked, beginning to pack up her things in an attempt to make a hasty exit.

His voice lowered. "I know you're spectre_pheonix."

She tried to keep a cool head, not to show her abject terror. She knew of a lot of bad things that had happened to celebrities when a crazed fan found them, and couldn't let this one know the truth.

"Who?" she asked, "I'm sorry, I, I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do," he said.

"What makes you so sure?" she asked, trying to stall just a moment as she quickly slung her backpack over her shoulder and turned to leave.

"Because I'm spectre_6."

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned back to look at him, sizing it all up in her mind. He'd clearly been a longtime fan of hers, just like spectre_6 had. Now that she thought about it, his voice sounded familiar, too. He'd also mentioned sitting in class, right when she was, and that the same thing had happened in his class that happened to her.

Still, she needed confirmation.

"What?"

"You started laughing in class today because of my joke about tax evasion," he said, "and then decided to 'sign off and lock in' so you could keep your grades up. Last night after you finished your collab with me, I messaged you a gif of Master Chief saluting and saying "goodnight," and you called me a total dork— that was a high honor, by the way. And then the day before that…"

"Okay, okay," she said, a little quieter, afraid of the few students still in the room overhearing, "I'm convinced. But how did you find out it was me?"

"You quoted Professor Syndulla in your stream a week and a half ago," he said, "and then you complimented my shirt last week, the same shirt I'm wearing now— and yes, I have washed it between then and now— and your hair matches your logo, and, I was watching you today in class— not, like, watching you, watching you. Like, not in a stalker way— oh kriff, am I a stalker? I am so sorry, that's really creepy now that I think about it. Anyways while I was hopefully maybe definitely not stalking you, I noticed that you reacted to every message I sent spectre_pheonix, and my suspicions were confirmed."

And Sabine's suspicions were confirmed when she heard him ramble, the same way spectre_6 always did when he was nervous in-game.

"Nice deduction, spectre_6," she said, feeling so much more comfortable now that she knew that this stranger was a friend she'd already met.

"Call me Ezra," he said, extending a hand to her, "Ezra Bridger."

"Sabine," she said, taking his hand and shaking it, "it's nice to finally meet you."

"You have no idea," he said.

💜.🎮.🧡

Being roommates with Ezra Bridger meant you had to be prepared for anything. Walking into the dorm room and thinking you're alone only to find your roommate under his desk, watching vines, and claiming both those things were for "emotional support." Listening to the most insane rumors and conspiracy theories about your teachers and classmates. Helping hide that stupid orange cat he'd smuggled in. Waking up at 2am to the beeping of a microwave and the smell of pizza rolls. All of this came with the territory, and Jai was professional in handling the insane force of nature that was Ezra Bridger.

But none of it could prepare him for what he saw when he walked into his dorm room one day after lunch and found Ezra cleaning. For someone whose laundry was piled higher than his loft bed, and who acted like he'd never seen a bottle of windex in his life, Ezra sure seemed to have purpose as he rushed around the room, putting away clean clothes while also tidying up the cluttered pile of papers and funko pops that he claimed were hiding a desk.

"May I ask what the occasion is?" Jai asked.

Ezra didn't even turn to look at him as his tornado of tidiness swept across the dorm room.

"Surprise."

"Surprise what?" Jai asked, "like, 'you can't tell me' surprise, or 'you wanted to surprise me by cleaning our room' surprise or 'your dad is coming for a surprise visit' surprise?"

"The first one," Ezra said.

"I'm not even gonna ask," Jai said.

"Good," Ezra said, "because you wouldn't believe me."

There were a lot of things Ezra could do that were unbelievable, but he was pretty sure just cleaning up the room was enough to suspend his standard of disbelief.

Jai sat down at his own desk and pulled out his laptop, figuring he may as well work on his history homework while he waited for the inevitable Bridger surprise.

About ten minutes later, Jai thought he heard a knock on the door, followed by Ezra yelling out "I'M COMING!" and bolting for the door, picking up the last bits of trash off the floor on his way.

Jai watched his roommate fumble to open the door with the trash still in his hand, then toss it into a corner where it wouldn't be seen and pull the door open.

"Sabine," Ezra said, "come on in."

"Alright," a girl's voice said.

A girl?

Ezra Bridger had never talked to a girl in person in all their time at Attalon Alliance University, so naturally Jai was surprised when a beautiful girl followed Ezra into their dorm room.

"Oh, Sabine," Ezra said, "this is my roommate, Jai."

"Nice to meet you," Sabine said, with a smile.

"Pardon the disbelief on my face," Jai said, "I didn't know Ezra even knew how to talk to girls who weren't on his computer."

Ezra looked a touch embarrassed, but his new friend spoke up for him, with half a giggle.

"We met through his computer," Sabine said, "he may have mentioned me. Spectre_pheonix?"

"You mean the Wild Ghost Chase wasn't just another ungrounded conspiracy theory?" Jai asked.

"Wild Ghost Chase?"

"It's called The Spectre Search," Ezra defended, "and yes, as I predicted, spectre_pheonix is, in fact, another student in my psych class."

"I came over to do a collab in person today," she said, "it's a lot better than trying to voice chat over Ezra's grainy mic setup."

"Hey!" Ezra said.

"She's got a point," Jai said, "and I guess my prediction was right too."

"What prediction?" Ezra asked.

"I told you if you ever met her she'd be way out of your league."

"Hey!" Ezra said again. "Don't you have a history report due?"

"Relax, I'm just messing with you," Jai said, "besides, this one's an easy A."

And with that, he turned back to his computer and let Ezra and Sabine have the illusion of privacy for their first in-person edition of "the closest thing Ezra would ever get to a date." Jai put on his headphones and went to his favorite research material: opening Spotify and resuming where he'd last left off in Hamilton: An All American Musical.

💜.🎮.🧡

It wasn't uncommon after that for them to stream in Ezra's dorm room, or in Sabine's when Jai was busy with homework he couldn't risk interruption in. This time was one of those days, because, as Jai cited, "Lin Manuel Miranda didn't write us a musical about algebra," so Ezra found himself on the floor in her room, leaning his back against her bed, while she sat on her bed, her legs dangling off the side next to him.

While they waited to connect on their college's laggy internet, Ezra filled the silence.

"So, how do you think you'll do on that psych test next week?"

"Not too bad, I hope," Sabine said, "you?"

"I just hope dad has room on the fridge for another D-," Ezra said.

"Maybe I can put in a good word with the professor for you," Sabine said, a bit of a laugh in her tone. "She and I have a fairly good rapport."

"If only you knew," Ezra thought.

"Unfortunately, this is one area where I think I do have you beat," Ezra said.

"Are you crazy?" Sabine asked, leaning over the edge of the bed so she could see if his expression was sarcastic, "she's clearly got it out for you. I've never seen her go so hard on any student."

"And why do you think that is?" Ezra asked.

"Because you don't apply yourself in any of your classes and she thinks you're wasting potential?"

"Well, yeah," Ezra said, "but I'm not the only one who does that, and she singles me out anyways."

"And why do you suppose that is?"

Ezra sighed. Professor Syndulla had never mentioned having a boyfriend, at least, not in any of the classes Ezra had been in, and if she had, no one besides Jai would've known it was Ezra's dad. It was a touchy subject for him, so he didn't bring it up much.

But somehow he could tell Sabine would understand.

"She's dating my dad," Ezra said.

"She— what?"

This wasn't normal information for students to know about their teachers, so he understood her confusion.

"How do you think I even got into this school, what, with my grades?" Ezra asked, "if not for her glowing letter of recommendation, I wouldn't even be here right now."

"So your dad is dating your professor so you can get into college?"

"What, no?" Ezra said, "They've been together for years, and I wasn't even thinking about college until long after they met. But dad always thought college would be good for me, and Professor Syndulla offered to help me get in and found me some scholarships."

"So our psych professor is hard on you because she's dating your dad?"

"Yeah, lots of psychology to unpack there." Ezra said.

"How do you feel about it all?"

Ezra paused. He hadn't answered that one honestly in a while, not even when his dad asked him last saturday.

"Do you really wanna know?" Ezra asked.

Sabine slid down off her mattress and sat down next to him, and her presence was already familiar enough to inspire honesty.

"Yeah," she said.

"It's weird," Ezra said, "I guess I never really grasped the idea of having a mom again."

After a moment of silence, Sabine asked another question. "Can I ask what happened to your mom?"

"The same thing that happened to my dad," Ezra said, "my real dad that is— I mean, my birth dad. I don't wanna say Kanan's not my real dad. He raised me for more than half my life, anyways, after my parents went on a missions' trip and never came back."

"Oh."

"It's alright," Ezra said, not letting her waste time on awkward sympathy. "No, no it's not, and to be honest it really sucks, but there's nothing any of us could've done to stop it. And Kanan, he was always there for me, even before my parents left."

Sabine didn't answer, but it felt nice to talk to her about it anyways, so he hoped she didn't mind that he continued.

"They're getting married," he said.

"What?"

"Professor Syndulla and my dad," Ezra said. "Well, she doesn't know it yet, and maybe she'll say no again, but I don't think so. Dad's proposing at dinner on Friday."

Sabine nodded again, clearly trying to process everything he'd said.

"I'm sorry," Ezra said, "I didn't mean to make this a pity party."

"Don't be," Sabine said, "this is what friends are for."

"Friends?" Ezra thought, with a smile. Two months ago he'd been her fan, and she hadn't even known he existed. And now they were friends? He could get used to this.

"But just so we're clear," Sabine said, "I don't pity you."

"What?"

"You have a dad who thinks the world of you," Sabine said, "and I'd kill to have a mom like Professor Syndulla."

"Why?" Ezra asked.

"Because I know what it's like to have a mom who's not like her," Sabine said, "a mom who's not proud of you. A mom who doesn't compliment the sketches you draw in the margins of your notes. A mom whose biggest dream is for you to drop out of your art major so you can join the family business instead."

"I, I'm sorry," Ezra said.

"I don't need your sympathies either," Sabine said.

"You're getting them anyways," Ezra said, "do you want to talk at all?" "What's there to say?" Sabine said, "that family business always came before family? That even my own brother thought it was more fun to game with his friends than his sister? That my parents wouldn't give a single dime for my tuition, and if it wasn't for my merch money and some massive scholarships I wouldn't even be here?"

Ezra put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, trying to find the words to say. Someone whose whole persona was built on a mask of online secrecy had just shared something so personal with him, and he didn't know what to say.

"Do you wanna come to dinner on Sunday?"

"What?" Sabine asked, apparently shocked out of her despair.

"I always go to my dad's for a family dinner on Sunday afternoon after church. Professor Syndulla does too. We're probably gonna be celebrating the engagement, and then she's gonna beat us in our weekly game of Ticket to Ride. It's incredibly boring, but if you wanna join us anyways…"

"I'll be there," Sabine said with a smile.

And instead of returning to her normal seat, she stayed next to Ezra as they remembered why they were there in the first place and began their game together.

💜.🎮.🧡

Sunday ended up being one of the most enjoyable days Sabine had had in a long time. She ended up tagging along with Ezra that morning when he went to church, so he wouldn't have to drive back to the school to pick her up. It was a new experience for her, but he didn't seem to mind. Afterwards, they went back to Ezra's dad's house— Ezra's house, technically— for a family dinner, along with Professor Syndulla, who was absolutely beaming as she showed off her engagement ring. Another one of Kanan's family friends, whom Ezra referred to as "Uncle Zeb," was there as well, along with the professor's cat, Chopper, who couldn't be trusted to stay at home alone for a whole afternoon without destroying the place. The game of Ticket to Ride that came out after dinner only had enough pieces for four players, but Ezra and Sabine teamed up so everyone could play— and even with their combined mental resources, they were still no match for Professor Syndulla.

As they drove back to school, Sabine reminded herself why Ezra had done this. Not a single person at that dinner was related to each other— and yet, they were family— and Ezra wanted Sabine to be part of it too.

Maybe this "friendship" thing wasn't so bad after all.

💜.🎮.🧡

Spectre_pheonix and spectre_6 had been doing collaborative streams for most of the past month. Her fans really enjoyed his commentary on her skills, often leaving comments about how well her dry wit complimented his whimsical sense of humor, and how well they worked together. Both of them gained more followers because of it, which Ezra thought was almost impossible, because how could there have been people on Twitch who weren't already following her?

"You ever read the comment section?" Ezra asked one day as they were playing Minecraft.

"Not often. Why?"

"Look at these," Ezra said, then read a few of them out loud.

"That last one is true, at least," Sabine said, and it would've been harsh if he hadn't seen the twinkle in her warm brown eyes.

"That last one was my roommate," Ezra said, glaring across the room at Jai, who smiled innocently.

"Oh, but this one isn't," Ezra said, reading off the latest comment:

He smiled at Sabine.

"That's a great question," Ezra said, into the mic so the commenter could hear. "Hey, spectre_pheonix, wanna go out on Friday?"

Sabine looked at him and smiled. "Sounds like a date," she said.

"Great," Ezra said, then turned back to his mic, unable to hold back an enormous grin as he said, "Yes, yes we are."

💜.🎮.🧡

By all accounts, it should've been weird for them to go out on a date instead of just hanging out and playing video games. It should've been weird when Ezra showed up at Sabine's door, wearing a nice button down shirt instead of her merch, holding a bouquet of purple and orange roses instead of his custom gaming controller. It should've been weird as they sat down to eat something nicer than dining hall pizza or a bag of doritos that ended up half-strewn across the dorm room floor as they blasted away at each other in Halo. It should've been weird when Ezra put on a playlist in the car of the cringiest but most endearing love songs she'd ever heard, and even more so when they found themselves singing along, and it should've been weird when Ezra put his arm around her during the movie and she leaned in closer, and it should've been weird when they walked out of the theater and he put his coat over her bare shoulders without her even needing to tell him she was cold. It should've been weird when, instead of ending the evening with, "so, Terraria tomorrow?" it ended with a couple "I had a great time"s and a delicate first kiss.

It should've been weird, but it wasn't. It wasn't weird at all that they had more in common than their love of video games. It wasn't weird at all that conversations with him came naturally and being in his presence felt like breathing. It wasn't weird at all that, as soon as she was alone, Sabine found herself leaning back against her dorm room door and sighing dramatically like the heroine of a cheesy romcom.

It wasn't weird at all. In fact, it was perfect.

#sabezra #the sabezra gamergirl au #sabine wren #ezra bridger #fanfic #sabezra fic #modern au #college au #gamergirl au #kanera #hera syndulla

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