#this connects to that other discussion we were having a few weeks ago | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

parkerslatte · 12 days ago

Text

The Purest Kind of Love || Part Three

Azriel x Fem!Reader x Eris Vanserra

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: murder attempt. minor panic attack.

Summary: Eris Vanserra arrives at the Night Court to discuss trade deals, alliances and anything that would benefit him as High Lord. During a meeting, things go south quite quickly.

The Purest Kind of Love Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

PREVIOUS / NEXT

•••

Weeks had passed since Y/N had felt that damned bond snap with Eris Vanserra. There were days where the bond was faint, as if it no longer existed but on others, she felt a strong pull, barely able to resist it. Concentrating on her work on those particular days was beginning to get increasingly difficult. All of her work had been conducted from her own cottage, she hadn’t given anything to Rhys as of yet, their final conversation replaying in her mind. Anger coursed through her veins whenever she thought about it. If she saw Rhys’s face anytime soon she was sure she was going to connect her palm to it.

Y/N hadn’t seen anyone from the Inner Circle since the day after Eris’s celebration. For once, she was not sure about how they would react to the news of her new mating bond– assuming Azriel had already told them. She knew that there would be a few angry faces amongst the group, Mor’s especially.

With a sigh Y/N pulled away from her open notebook, rubbing her eyes. The words she had written had only begun to blur together. Her concentration had only begun to slip once again. It didn’t help that she could still faintly smell Azriel’s scent. Many of his clothes were still within her cottage, he hadn’t come to collect them yet. There were many times where Y/N had considered returning them to him herself but just the thought of returning the only things that held his scent made her heart sting. She also wanted to give him the space that he requested.

A knock sounded through the cottage and Y/N perked up. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks– she probably hadn’t even spoken aloud in weeks. She stood to her feet and walked the short distance from her office to the front door and opened it wide. The beaming face of Mor stood on the other side.

“Mor?” Y/N said, surprised to see her.

“Are you happy to see me?” she asked. “Because I am happy to see you. It’s been weeks since I have even heard from you.”

Y/N laughed nervously. “I’ve been busy with my work.”

Mor hummed, as if she didn’t believe it. Thankfully she didn’t call Y/N out on it. Mor held up a letter in her hand. “This came for you a few days ago. I thought Azriel would have delivered it to you but I haven’t seen him around either.”

Oh, Y/N thought. Mor didn’t know.

“I haven’t seen Azriel either,” Y/N said, her voice sad. “Our relationship ended, Mor.”

Surprise lit up Mor’s face. “You split up?”

Y/N nodded. “A few weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Mor said, gesturing to Y/N to sit down. “How are you?”

“Honestly, I am finding it hard,” Y/N said. “Having someone beside you for years and then they are suddenly gone is certainly an adjustment. I still have some of his clothes here.”

“I can take them to him for you–”

“No,” Y/N cut her off. She cleared her throat. “No, it’s okay. I’ll send them to him soon.”

Mor nodded and handed Y/N the letter. “I’m unsure of who it is from as there was no name given.”

The writing on the letter was exquisite and beautiful and was a piece of artwork within itself. It was much better than the fast scrawl that filled Y/N’s notebooks.

“As much as I would love to stay here with you, Emerie and I planned our own trip to visit the Day Court,” Mor said.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, her eyes snapping up from the letter. “Enjoy yourselves.”

A small smile toyed at Mor’s lips. “We will, I’ll tell her you said hell0.”

A long hug and another goodbye, Mor was gone, leaving Y/N alone in her cottage once more.

***

The letter sat on the table unopened. A wax seal on the back of the letter clearly indicated who it was from. The wax was a near perfect match of the sender's eyes. Not that Y/N would recognise them immediately of course.

Why would Eris send me a letter? Y/N thought.

As she took the letter back in her hands, Y/N contemplated opening it. As much as she liked to believe the stories that depicted Eris as a terrible male, Y/N personally didn’t see it. They had only shared a dance and a few conversations together but for some reason she could see that careful constructed mask he hides behind. It had slipped just before he left her room the morning after his celebration. Somehow she believed that her whole family was wrong about him.

Y/N carefully broke the seal of the letter and took the parchment out. It faintly smelt of a crackling fire. Y/N couldn’t help but breathe it in. Once the letter was unfolded, it was written in the same delicate handwriting that was on the front. It was shorter than Y/N was expecting. She began to read.

—----

Dear Y/N,

I am currently on a tour around Prythian to work out trade deals and build stronger relationships between my court and others and hopefully fix all the hurt my father caused. I only have two stops to go before I finish this little task of mine; Night and Winter. Due to circumstances in the Winter Court, I would need to visit the Night Court first.

Now this is where my problem resides. The Night Court is your home and I do not wish to intrude. It is true that we have a mating bond between us and it is true that it connects our souls. Though I do not wish for you to be uncomfortable in your own home. If you truly feel uncomfortable with me being in your home court, I can conduct my business from my home in Autumn.

If you wish for me to stay in Autumn, don’t open this letter.

If you wish for me to come to Night, open this letter–

—----

Y/N stopped reading as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. Though she couldn’t help the laugh that slipped past her lips. The nerve of him, Y/N thought. Though he did bring a genuine smile to her lips for the first time in weeks.

Truthfully, Y/N wouldn’t mind for him to come to the Night Court. If she did feel uncomfortable in his presence, she would simply stay away. Even with the mating bond’s desperate attempts to pull her closer. Saoise cast her eyes back down to the letter.

—----

It may be obvious to you now that I am indeed on my way to the Night Court, depending on when you read this, I might already be there now. But I am being serious when I say that if you truly are uncomfortable with me around, happily tell me and I will be gone before you even have the chance to blink.

I hope this letter finds you well.

Your mate

Kind regards,

Eris Vanserra, High Lord of Autumn

—----

The smile tugged at the corner of Y/N’s mouth and she consciously removed it. She folded the letter and placed it back in its envelope, tucking it away in the drawer under the table. There was a possibility that Eris was already in the Night Court. The thought made her chest contort, nerves itching. She shouldn’t feel nervous. Eris was her mate and she knew how to handle him, evident from the dance they shared.

Perhaps the reason Mor and Emerie were going to spend some time in the Day Court was because of Eris’s arrival. Why hadn’t anyone told her about it? Despite how Rhys might not think of her as part of his family, she was still a member of the Inner Circle whether he liked it or not. Her research was a large part of what kept the court running and kept people safe, even if Rhys deemed them not worth saving like the people in Hewn City. Y/N would go out of her way to warn him about possible dangers that target the area.

If Eris was meant to be arriving at the Night Court, she should have been informed of it. Perhaps he hadn’t arrived yet and that was the reason. Though deep down, Y/N already knew that both Rhys and Cassian would choose Azriel’s comfort over her. If Azriel didn’t want to be within a certain distance of her, Rhys and Cassian would do all they could to make it happen.

Y/N closed the drawer containing the letter from Eris and returned to her research, her mind becoming consumed.

***

A whole day had passed and Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about the letter Eris had sent. By her estimations, he should have already been in the Night Court for at least No one had reached out to her. Even Eris, which Y/N hated to admit, disappointed her a little. The work she had been doing had been completed and Y/N had felt fidgety. For the majority of her work, she would assign herself jobs but Rhys did task her with conducting research for him. She had completed it all and had no motivation to do any of her own.

The hot mug in Y/N’s hand was placed upon the table as she walked over to the front door. Being trapped in the cottage where Azriel’s scent still lingered was not doing her any good.

Y/N swung the door open and a surprised Cassian stood just down the cobblestone pathway. A frown found its way onto Y/N’s face.

“What are you doing here, Cassian?” Y/N asked.

Cassian chuckled nervously. “So I don’t get a hug of greeting?”

Y/N folded her arms across her chest. “No I don’t believe you will. Why are you here?”

Cassian sighed. “Eris is meeting with Rhys and the rest of us to discuss some trade deals and to strengthen his alliance with us.”

“And Rhys is the one who assigned you to get me?” Y/N asked.

“No,” Cassian answered and Y/N’s heart sank. If it wasn’t clear by her last conversation with Rhys, it was evident now that he didn’t even view Y/N as part of his Inner Circle. “It was actually Azriel who demanded that you be there as part of the Inner Circle.”

Surprise filled Y/N’s eyes. “Azriel demanded it?”

“He threatened to not attend the meeting himself if you weren’t there,” Cassian explained.

Somehow that made Y/N feel worse.

***

The tension in the room was thick and it only amused Eris to his core. While everyone around him was alert, he casually lounged in his chair, waiting for the meeting to begin. He wasn’t told the reason for the delay but he had noticed that both of the Illyrian warriors were nowhere to be seen.

Rhysand sat at the head of the table with Fere by his side, a clear sense of who was actually in power. The smaller fae with short black hair, Eris hadn’t ever bothered to know her name, sat to his right, her piercing gaze never leaving him for a second.

It had only been a matter of hours since Eris had been welcomed into the Night Court and he had yet to leave this very room. If he were to be confined for the week he was meant to be staying, Eris was sure that he would go insane. Despite his dislike towards certain members of Rhysand’s Inner Circle and the Night Court itself, Eris did have to admit that what he had seen of Velaris had been rather beautiful.

The door to the room opened, cutting through the silence. The shadowsinger stepped inside, eyes full of carefully concealed rage. Eris watched his movements carefully as he slowly pulled out of the chair opposite him and took a seat, wings tucked tightly into his back, shadows restlessly moving over his shoulders. Just from the look of him, Eris could tell that he was finding it hard to keep his emotions in check. Perfect, Eris thought.

Two more figures entered the room soon after. The first was Cassian, probably the only member of the Inner Circle who Eris could have a semi-pleasant conversation with. Stepping in after him however was the person who made his chest ache deliciously.

That pull that Eris had tried his best to ignore the past few weeks was now pulled taunt as his eyes met Y/N’s. She was just as beautiful as she looked at his celebration. The only difference was the dark circles under her eyes. It was clear that she hadn’t been sleeping and Eris wanted to know the reason why. Perhaps he could do something to help her. But what if the reason she was losing sleep was because of him?

The stories the Inner Circle must have told her about him were certainly not pleasant. What if she was kept awake at night after finding out that she was mated to such a diabolical male. After all, that is what he wanted everyone to think when his father was alive. But knowing that Y/N most likely thought that way about him– that filled Eris with a sadness that was foreign to him.

The chair next to Eris was pulled out and Y/N slowly sat down and shuffled the chair back in, her hands folded in her lap.

“Now that everyone is here,” Rhysand began, his eyes lingering on Y/N for a brief moment and in that moment Eris fought the urge to reach across the table and connect his fist with his face. “I would firstly like to set some rules for this meeting.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “Rules? Are these rules for me or for you brainless servants?” Eris said, gesturing to Azriel and Cassian. Eris’s gaze fixated on Azriel. The shadowsinger’s gaze was locked on Eris and it seemed as if that he had no intention of looking away. “And if I may be completely honest. All of you are terrible hosts, locking me in a room with surveillance for hours, no offer of a drink or food. When I had my meeting with Helion, we had already discussed what we needed to and were sharing a bottle of wine on the balcony.”

The smile that spread across Rhysands face was nothing short of malicious. “My apologies, Eris. Would you like a glass of my finest wine?”

“Absolutely not,” Eris replied, leaning back in his chair. “I wouldn’t put it past you to poison my glass.” Eris’s gaze slowly shifted to Y/N whose gaze was cast to the table. “Except Y/N here. Unlike all of you, she seemes to have her head actually screwed on.”

The shadows resting on Azriel’s shoulders moved around his body, seemingly readying to strike Eris at any moment– Eris simply ignored him. Y/N’s head lifted and looked at Eris and when their eyes locked once more, Eris couldn’t help the small twitch of the corner of his mouth. Y/N seemed to notice it as the corner of her mouth twitched too. The pull only became stronger.

Clearing his throat, Eris turned to face Azriel who still hadn’t looked away from him, a burning hatred resided in his eyes. Eris smirked. “Are you jealous, Azriel? That I can get a female to smile at me while you simply pine from afar, struggling to gain even the smallest bit of affection. It's quite sad really.”

The shadows that rested upon Azriel’s shoulders reached out to Eris and the fury in Azriel’s eyes grew. Eris knew that he had touched a nerve.

“Stop with the threatening look, Azriel. How do you ever wish to seduce anyone into your bed with an aura of murder surrounding you. No wonder you’ve been alone for centuries,” Eris said, casually crossing one leg over the other.

Shadows wrapped around Eris’s throat and most air was cut off. The feeling of the tightness around his throat made Eris immediately panic. Azriel loomed over Eris as everyone around them tried to stop what was occurring.

“Azriel,” Rhysand warned. “Stop this. You know what will happen if you harm him.”

“I don’t care,” Azriel growled.

“Az,” Cassian said, placing a hand on the shadowisnger’s shoulder. Azriel just shrugged it off. “You need to stop.”

“Stop this!” Feyre demanded, looking between Eris and Azriel.

“Azriel!” Y/N snapped. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

For the first time since he entered the room, Azriel looked away from Eris and to Y/N. The tightness around his throat faltered but there was still no way for Eris to escape. He clawed at his throat but his hands only clawed at his skin.

“Let him go now,” Y/N said, her voice dangerous.

The shaowingers eyes found Eris’s again and the shadows tightened as if it were instinctual, as if they were connected to his emotions. It was beginning to get harder and harder to breathe. Eris desperately tried to claw at his neck again but it only made him scratch his own skin more, this time drawing blood.

As he began to feel fainter and fainter, Eris couldn’t stop the rising panic within him. It was almost as if he could feel the ghost of his fathers hand wrapping around his neck. Eris scratched at his neck even more and drew more blood, desperate to breathe again. Black spots clouded his vision and all attempts from the Inner Circle to get Azriel to stop fell on deaf ears.

“Azriel, please stop,” Y/N pleaded and Eris felt gentle hands rest on his shoulder. It was the only thing that grounded him against visions of his father looking over him with his hand around his neck.

“Stop…” Eris begged Azriel.

Something within Azriel’s eyes seemed to snap him back to reality as the shadows recoiled from Eris as if he had burnt them. They rested on Azriel’s shoulders before shrinking away entirely. Stumbling back, Azriel blinked as Eris’s chest heaved up and down, slowly getting air back into his lungs.

“Azriel…” Y/N was the first to speak, a hint of disappointment in her tone.

“I-I’m sorry,” Azriel said before he swiftly left the room.

Eris continued to breathe heavily as Y/N’s hands remained on his shoulders. He wanted to shrink into her touch. Just feeling all eyes on him made him want to hide– he was too exposed, too vulnerable. Eris never wanted to feel that way again.

“Why don’t we finish this meeting tomorrow once everything has calmed down?” Feyre suggested, looking at the blood smeared on Eris’s neck.

“That would be a smart idea, Feyre darling,” Rhysand said. “Cassian, you can escort Eris to–”

“I will do it,” Y/N said firmly. “I don’t think he wants to be around any of you right now.”

Eris closed his eyes and allowed his body to slump against the chair as he tried to even out his breathing, nothing seemed to work.

“But–” Rhysand began.

“I will take him to his room,” Y/N said, sending a glare Rhysand’s way. “Do you have a problem with that, Rhys?”

Rhysand studied Y/N for a moment, his eyes lingering on where her hands were gently holding onto Eris’s shoulders. He slowly nodded. “Of course not, Y/N. Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere anacompanied.”

“I’m not a prisoner, Rhysand,” Eris said quietly.

There was no reply as the footsteps of the Inner Circle slowly grew quieter as they all left the room until only Y/N and Eris remained. Eris’s chest still heaved up and down as his breathing still hadn't returned to normal. Beron’s phantom hands were still wrapped around his throat.

“Let me clean that away,” Y/N said quietly, procuring a small cloth from thin air.

When his eyes met Y/N’s, they were filled with concern as she looked at his neck. Eris didn’t want to know what it looked like.

“I can clean it myself,” Eris mumbled, taking the rag from Y/N’s hands.

A simple nod was her response. The scratches on his neck were already beginning to heal as Eris wiped the blood away, the previously white cloth now crimson.

“Do you wish to return to your room?” Y/N asked.

Eris chuckled, no humour behind it. “I’d rather not be concealed in a small room right now.”

The two sat together alone in the room until Eris’s breathing had evened out. The phantom hand still remained but the panic within his body was washed away. Almost immediately, a switch flipped in Eris as he turned to Y/N. The facade he put on lit up his face once more.

“Well, why don’t you show me around Velaris? I’m sure someone as beautiful as you knows where the stunning sights are,” Eris suggested, a smirk toying at his lips.

Y/N frowned, immediately seeing through the facade. “Cut the bullshit, Eris. You can parade this fake attitude to everyone else but not me.” A gentler expression replaced her frown. “You…are my mate. You don’t need to hide your true self away from me.”

Slowly but surely, the smirk fell from Eris’s face. “Mate? That is the first time I have heard you admit that aloud.”

“We have only had one conversation since it snapped,” Y/N said, an amused tone filling her voice.

Eris huffed out a laugh, looking down at the blood stained cloth in his hand. “That is true. But it still feels…surreal that someone is telling me that I am their mate.”

Y/N sighed. “It is strange for me too. If a mating bond did snap for me, I thought it would be with…someone else.”

Eris raised an eyebrow. “And that someone is?”

A saddened expression fell upon Y/N’s face and Eris immediately regretted asking. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I apologise for asking,” Eris said, throwing the bloodied cloth on the table.

“Don’t apologise,” Y/N said firmly.

Eris nodded and slouched back in the chair, all sense of formality disappearing from his posture. If it were anyone else but Y/N in his presence, Eris wouldn’t be caught dead slouching in his chair, but he felt…comfortable.

“Well, aren’t you going to take me to my prison– I mean room?” Eris said.

Y/N smiled. “The rooms might not be as grand as the rooms in the Autumn Court, but I assure you that your room isn’t a prison. It was my old room, actually.”

Eris suddenly perked up. “Your old room?”

Y/N nodded. “It was always the nicest room and now it is used as a guest room as Nesta demandes to make guests feel comfortable when they stay here. There have been a lot of…strange guests over the past few years. And I wasn’t going to take you there anyway. You said you didn’t want to be concealed in a small room so I’m taking you out to see Velaris.”

Surprise filled Eris’s body. “You are letting me leave?”

“Despite what Rhys tells you, Eris. You can go anywhere you want unsupervised. I trust you. If Rhys wants to shout at anyone about it, send him my way,” said Y/N, standing to her feet.

“Now come on,” Y/N said. “This beautiful female, as you like to put it, is going to show you some stunning sights.”

***

Despite the sun being high in the sky, it didn’t stop Y/N from shivering as they walked down the cobblestone streets. Some stopped and stared, clearly confused as to why the new High Lord of Autumn was walking through the streets of Velaris. Eris didn’t seem to care as he looked around, clearly taking in every small detail.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure what came over her when she suggested that she take Eris out in the city, all that she did know was that it had been instinctual to spend time with him. It wasn’t in her plans to get to know her mate, at least not so soon after her relationship with Azriel ended– but when Eris was clawing at his throat and Azriel loomed over him, she had the strong urge to protect him. There were still a few scratches that hadn’t healed yet from how deep Eris had scratched himself.

“You’ve been shivering for the past hour,” Eris commented as he stopped to look in a window of a shop.

“Unlike you, I don’t have fire coursing through my veins,” Y/N said, wrapping her arms tighter around herself.

“If I had a jacket I would offer it to you,” Eris said, finally turning to her. He frowned once he noticed her thin dress for what seemed like the first time.

“It's okay,” Y/N said with a wave of her hand. “I can return to my cottage to get a jacket, it isn’t too far away if you don’t mind the walk.”

Eris shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

With a nod, Y/N led them down the street and away from the shops. “You can stay here if you wish, I’m unsure how long I will be.”

“It’s fine,” Eris said. “If I am being honest, I do wish to see more of this city– don’t tell Rhysand I said that.”

Y/N nodded. “Don’t worry, I am unsure if Rhys and I are on speaking terms currently.”

“I am not prying you for an answer but if you would like to tell me, I am awaiting your answer eagerly– unfortunately for you, I do enjoy some gossip,” Eris replied.

Y/N huffed a laugh. “Unfortunately for you, I will not be telling you. You may be my mate, Eris, but sharing personal conversations is not on the table yet.”

“Yet,” Eris smirked.

“Sorry?” Y/N questioned.

“You said ‘yet’,” Eris remarked. “So that means that one day you will tell me.”

“I–shut up,” Y/N said, pulling her arms closer to herself as a chill ran down her spine.

A low chuckle emitted from Eris that sent pleasant shivers down Y/N’s spine. “My, my, just when we were getting along too.”

“Who said that we were getting along?” Y/N questioned, raising a brow.

“Well, you haven’t threatened to harm or kill me yet, so I am taking our brief relationship thus far as a successful one,” Eris remarked.

The two continued walking for a while longer in silence. Though it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence like Y/N expected, she was perfectly at ease. Eris seemed to be keen on taking in his surroundings as they walked down the cobblestone street. Y/N nearly slipped a few times when her attention fixated on Eris for a moment too long so she missed where the stone was raised higher than the others, thus causing her to trip. Whenever she did, Eris huffed out a small laugh.

“May I ask you a question?” Y/N questioned suddenly after a long silence. The question she wanted to ask was burned onto her tongue.

“Depends what the question is,” Eris answered with a raised eyebrow.

“That letter you sent me,” Saoirs began and Eris laughed. “Why didn’t you give me a choice if you were going to come here regardless.”

“Oh Y/N,” Eris said, her name flowing from his lips like a beautiful poem. “You are mistaken, I did give you a choice.”

Y/N laughed. “A choice? You said in your letter that if I was comfortable with you coming to my home, I should open the letter– how would I even know what the letter contained or who the letter was from if I didn’t open it?”

Eris glanced at her. “You knew who the letter was from as soon as you picked it up, didn’t you?”

“I might not have,” Y/N defended, folding her arms across her chest.

“But you did,” Eris said. “And despite how little time we have spent together, I knew that you would have never opened that letter if you were uncomfortable with me. Am I correct?”

“No,” Y/N said, sending a small glare his way. She hated how correct he was.

“Liar,” Eris whispered.

Their faces were close as Y/N cleared her throat and turned away. “My cottage is just up this street.”

Seemingly snapping back into reality, Eris took a step back, clasping his hands behind his back. “You said that this walk wasn’t too far. You live quite far from the city.”

Y/N shrugged. “It’s a short walk for me. It helps me focus more on my work. When I used to live in the House of Wind with everyone, I could hardly focus on my work as I was interrupted almost every time I tried to get anything done.”

Despite the fact that her home had been her sanctuary for many years, always full of life and love– it now held an aura of sadness around it. Even though Y/N had lived in her cottage years before she and Azriel made their bargain, it was the place where they had started building their life together. Residing all over the cottage and land surrounding it held small reminders of the shadowsinger. His chair for instance, which allowed him to sit comfortably with his wings. The bed which Y/N had surprised him with once when she had noticed how much he had ached whenever he slept in her previous bed. The decorations Azriel had bought for her whenever he had business elsewhere.

Y/N unlocked the door and stepped inside, Eris followed after. The room was cold, it had been ever since Azriel had left. But with Eris standing next to her there was a flicker of warmth that spread through the air.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Y/N muttered, stepping away from Eris.

There was no reply from Eris, or if he did reply, Y/N didn’t hear as she made her way to her bedroom. Only one side of the bed was slept in and the other was still perfectly made, she hadn’t wanted to move anything just yet, not while the scent of Azriel still lingered. Moving onto her wardrobe, Y/N pulled out a thick coat, trying her best to ignore Azriel’s hung up just beside hers. She needed to return it to him– just not yet.

When she exited her bedroom, Y/N found Eris looking over the various decor pieces. She cleared her throat to announce her presence. It felt strange bringing Eris to her cottage, perhaps she should have left him in the city while she came back here alone. Despite the terms of their bargain, it felt wrong to bring Eris into the place where she had just begun to build a life with Azriel. Yet– the High Lord fit in well with her decor.

“I’m ready to leave now,” Y/N said.

“May I ask you a question now?” Eris said suddenly.

“Depends what it is,” she answered, putting on her coat.

“I don’t mean to pry while asking this question, but do you live with someone else in this cottage– the spymaster more specifically? His scent is blocking all my other senses,” Eris said, clasping his hands behind his back.

The question wasn’t one Y/N was prepared for, of course she planned to tell Eris at some point but not so soon. But Eris was very perceptive and would know that she was lying if she denied his statement. With a sigh, Y/N nodded. “Yes he lived here with me– four years to be exact.”

“So at my celebration, the two of you were…together?” Eris questions.

“We were, yes,” said Y/N honestly.

“Ah, so that is why he was glaring at me for the entire length of the dance we shared,” Eris said. “But I cannot help but notice you are speaking in past tense about your relationship.”

“We are not together anymore,” Y/N said, the statement sending a pain through her heart. “That ended the night of your celebration.”

A guilty look washed over Eris’s face. “That wasn’t because of me, was it? Even though I do not like the shadowsinger, I do not wish to harm you in any way.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his sweet words but Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile. “The only reason why you are involved is because the mating bond snapped between us. Even if it snapped between me and anyone else that night, our relationship would have ended the same way at the same time.”

“You do not need to tell me if you don’t want to, Y/N,” Eris said earnestly. “I might act like a gossip, but most of the time, I do prefer staying far away from it.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said. “I would have eventually needed to tell you at some point. Four years ago, Azriel and I made a bargain. We were both so sick of being alone, everyone around us was happily mated and were starting families or already had one. At the time we thought it was an incredible idea. We would form a relationship with each other but if one of us were to ever find our mate, we would walk away from one another and our relationship would end. Realistically, we both never thought we would find our mates. We are both over five-hundred years old, if a bond would have snapped with anyone, then it would have snapped by then.”

“We lived together for four years, were steadily building a life together until–”

“Our bond snapped,” Eris finished.

“Correct,” Y/N said. “That night when I told him, I was in so much pain because I tried to fight the terms of the bargain. I begged him to stay with me but we both knew that we couldn’t continue our relationship because sooner or later the bargain would have killed me. Azriel left me in that room the night and never came back. The meeting earlier was the first time I had seen him since.”

“That morning when I came to speak to you and you were upset,” said Eris, taking a hesitant step forward. “It was because of the bargain.”

Y/N nodded. “I didn’t mean to be snappy with you, I couldn’t help it.”

“I didn’t mean to provoke you that morning, if I did, I apologise,” Eris said before proceeding to let out a breathless chuckle. “It’s funny, that morning I wanted to see if you were okay and I was pacing outside of your room for nearly an hour trying to gain the courage to knock. I didn’t want to seem invasive.”

Saoise’s face clouded over in surprise. “You needed to pluck up the courage to do something? Colour me shocked.”

With a shake of his head, Eris laughed and the sound was beautiful. “Don't get too used to it, Y/N, I never back down from a challenge.”

“Except when it consists of asking someone if they are okay?” Y/N asked.

“It was only because it was you– my mate– if it were any other member of your so-called ‘Inner Circle’, I don’t think I could have cared less,” Eris replied before his eyes suddenly turned serious. “There is still a lot that you don’t know about me, Y/N– and there is still a lot that I don’t know about you. I am not the monster that Rhysand and his lapdogs have made me out to be.”

Y/N took an unconscious step forward. “Believe it or not, Eris, I can already tell that you are not the male I have heard stories about.”

At that statement, Eris’s face lit up and he seemed relieved. “If you are open to it, Y/N, would you mind getting to know one another? I know that we eventually need to address the glaring topic of our mating bond– but right now, I am asking as a friend. Because believe it or not– I don’t have many of those.”

Despite Y/N’s previous feelings about the guilt trailing down her spine at Eris standing in the home she had made with Azriel, she now thought he fit in perfectly with her belongings– even the ones Azriel had picked out.

A bright smile stretched across Y/N’s face. “I would love that, Eris.”

Eris dipped his head in a nod. “I am glad to hear that, Y/N.”

As their conversation had progressed, Y/N now found herself standing barely an arms length away from Eris, it was as if the taunt bond between them had slowly pulled them closer. Slowly, she linked her arm with Eris’s, the warmth of his body seeping through her coat.

“Now, there is a small tavern that I like just down the street from my cottage,” Y/N said as she led Eris to the front door. “If we are getting to know one another, we might as well do it over a few friendly drinks.”

As the door to her cottage shut behind them, Y/N couldn’t help the small weight lifted from her shoulders. Walking with Eris by her side eased her in a way she couldn’t describe.

Though perhaps it was because of the faint scent of cedar mixing with a cracking fire.

Taglist:

@22hilda @lazypostfandomer @inkedinshadows @awkardnerd @azysmate @therealmoonstone @lets-talk-about-xyz @starryevermore @babypeapoddd @tothestarsandwhateverend @batboyrhyrhy @callsigns-haze @wildflowermooon @wildfloweroutlaw @acourtofbatboydreams @bookandtealover @queenoffeysand @the-sweet-psycho @the-starlight-way @curiosandcourioser @cheekym8s @honk4emoboyz @paleidiot @buckystevelove @that-girl-reading @readinggeeklmao @hextech-bros @scarsandallaz @paige0103 @k8r123-blog @asweetblueberry2 @bloodicka @eddsthemunson @fourthwing4ever @crypticme @that-one-bibliophole @lilah-asteria @sassybluebird @ninthcircleofprythian @imma-too-many-fandoms @happyt0exist @spiritualmooshroom @phoenix666stuff @imagoddessinmystories @sveretrice @stormieandateacup @impossibelle @opium-den @pit-and-the-pen @julesvanslutta @circe143

#acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris x reader #azriel x eris #azriel x eris vanserra

292 notes · View notes

nadas-dirthalen · 2 months ago

Text

Dragon Age: the Veilguard Was Packed with Lore — But Many of Us Overlooked It

— PART TWO —

[ 1 ]

Welcome back, friends and travellers. If you've been here a while, you'll know that I wrote 30,000 words of predictions in the week and a half before DA:tV released. But here's the most surprising thing—I was right, for the most part.

I spent my first Veilguard playthrough grinning (and then sobbing) at all the lore reveals. And here's the thing: I think most of us missed a lot of them, including even me.

So let's unpack some more.

Titans and Spirits: Dark and Light, Abyss and Fade, the Eternal Hymn and its Endless Listeners (2/2)

This is your warning: This post will contain spoilers for the entirety of Dragon Age: the Veilguard, and all Dragon Age content made before Veilguard.

I've spoken a lot about the titans before. In fact, they make up the bedrock (lol) of many of my pre-Veilguard theories. While a lot of what I said a month ago has since become canon in Veilguard, there's a lot that remains as speculation.

Today, I'm going to talk about why I still stand by my theory from October: that the titans and the spirits have far, far more in common than we think, and that this is of vital importance for the next game(s).

Today's Discussion:

What Solas' Creation and Harding's Personal Quest Have in Common

Not Only Do Titans Behave as Spirits... Spirits Behave as Titans

The Dark and the Light, Sundered

Atonement Solas' Promise: He (Still) Seeks Regeneration

What Solas' Creation and Harding's Personal Quest Have in Common

Thanks to Veilguard (and the hints that came before it, if you're coming here from my previous posts), we know that Solas and Harding have far more in common than they think. Both are inexorably connected to the titans: Solas because his body was crafted from lyrium, and Harding because of how her Stone magic awoke after touching Solas' lyrium dagger.

I've theorized before that I think Solas is still connected to Isatunoll, but that the creation of the Veil altered or harmed this connection somehow. Veilguard touches on this with its implications: Solas says the blight senses his presence during the Minrathous portion of the endgame, and says during his Atonement ending that he is able to soothe the titans' anger. It also asserts, during Solas' Memory #3, that the ritual to create the Veil went wrong, wounding Solas in the process.

Both Solas and Harding, then, have to do with both the titans' past and their future. The Temple of Solasan is referenced when this codex in Trespasser mentions the titans needing to be forgotten, and we know now that Mythal and Solas would come to sunder the titans with the lyrium dagger. Solas is the reason the titans were forgotten, and is likely the source of the song "I am the One."

Harding, by contrast, is one of few dwarves whose magic has awoken. The Titan Shade in her personal quest demands that the world remember the anger and pain it has forgotten: the titans' sundering (as well as her own anger). The titans have no future without acknowledgement of their past, and so both Solas and Harding have instrumental roles to play going forward (assuming both are alive and have agreed to this).

It is evident, also, that the pain of being forgotten is traumatic to the titans. Cole mentions this several times in Inquisition, as referenced in the last post. Songs that once sang the same; titans stuck asleep, forgetting how to wake.

And here is where Solas and Harding's parallels really come to light.

This trauma forces Harding to make a choice with her Titan Shade. In every scenario, she acknowledges the Shade's pain. Her choice, then, is to embrace that pain and carry it in Compassion... or embrace the titans' anger, as well as her own. In other words, as is referenced by Stalgard...

I drew close, and the sound became something more. I could feel it, Lace Harding…. Rage, sorrow, and a vast loneliness. — Codex: Letter for Lace Harding

Rage. Harding must choose between Compassion and Rage. We've seen this before. It comes up in Down Among the Dead Men, a story in the Tevinter Nights anthology:

Following a trauma, spirits are pushed toward changing. For so long in this franchise, we called these changes "demons," and still do. But the creature itself is not different—it just exists in a different state.

Emmrich says exactly this, equating spirits and the Titan Shade.

I once communed with a soul who shared a tale of deep sorrow from his youth. "So that the truth wouldn't be lost," he said. Interestingly enough, he could only bear to recall the event after death, when the memory had lost its sting. (l cannot share the tale. A Watcher must keep the confidences of the dead.) Your experience with what you call "the Titan's Shade" brought this anecdote to mind. As you say, in the first moments of your transformation, you were unable or unwilling to confront the depth of the Titans' sorrow. But unlike my friend, this pain was never quite your own. Instead of being trapped within, it fled elsewhere. — Codex: From Emmrich, on Sorrow Denied

We see, now, that the titans do the same thing. The only difference is that Harding is connected to the titan through Isatunoll; her spirit is not, itself, inside the titan. Put through a trauma, though, the titans turn. This is something I theorized as happening to Solas' titan upon his creation, because the trauma of the elves making bodies from its lyrium caused the titan to lash out and fight back, just like Cole says in DAI.

This is why both Solas and Harding are capable of soothing the titans' anger. It doesn't matter that Harding is a dwarf and Solas is one of the elvhen: both are still connected to their titan.

But as much as Veilguard tells us about the Titans being more similar to spirits than previously thought, it does not stop there. No: if you listen closely, Veilguard whispers to you that this similarity goes both ways. Spirits are more similar to titans than we ever could have imagined.

Not Only Do Titans Behave as Spirits... Spirits Behave as Titans

Something caught my eye during my very first Veilguard playthrough, super early on. Of course, I played the whole game through the lens of my own theories, wondering if there could be a connection between titans and spirits.

Immediately I saw, on the floor of a cell in the Ossuary:

I am Nyrys I was Nyrys I we were we are Nyrys — Note: Inmate Scribbling

Immediately, I was reminded of Harding's description of Isatunoll: "It means 'I am here.' But no, not 'I.' 'I' is singular. But it isn't 'we,' either. 'We' is multiple, but also separate... Isatunoll is the eternal hymn that encompasses all time. All spaces. I am. We are. This. That. Here. There. Now. And forever."

That seems to suggest that Nyrys, an inmate who was probably turned into an abomination, might be connected to Isatunoll. The note is written almost the exact same way that Harding is speaking. "But Lore," I hear you saying, "Couldn't that just be an abomination thing, a spirit struggling to share a body?"

I thought so, too. Right up until this.

Late after— (the handwriting abruptly alters:) a PEACE cut from the ALL golden stranded weaves PROTECTION CAGE keep them OUT keep me IN (Drawn below is a decagonal diagram of perfectly even, intersecting geometric lines.) — Codex: Lucanis' Logbook, 2

Understanding that Spite is likely writing with a phonetic understanding of the common tongue, we can interpret his words as 'a PIECE, cut from the ALL.' While I cannot say for certain what the rest describes (it could be Spite's opinion on the Ossuary, a reference to the titan's sundered dreams, or anything in between)... I know that these two first lines clearly talk about a spirit who has been cut away from something larger and grander than itself. The "all."

Now that sounds like Isatunoll, to me.

If you've been here since my October posts, you know where this is going. I've got to find a way to check this idea against other sources. And the first place I go, usually? The Chant of Light, for all the Chantry's evident faults.

I'm reminded of the creation of the Maker's first and second children.

Then the Voice of the Maker rang out, The first Word, And His Word became all that might be: Dream and idea, hope and fear, Endless possibilities. And from it made his firstborn. — Threnodies 5:1

That exact phrasing—"dream and idea, hope and fear, endless possibilities"—is used both in the creation of the Maker's first and second children. The spirits and the second children's souls. It is not used anywhere else in the Chant of Light.

At last did the Maker From the living world Make men. Immutable, as the substance of the earth, With souls made of dream and idea, hope and fear, Endless possibilities. — Threnodies 5:5

I've said before that I believe that all spirits originate as thoughts—namely, the thoughts of one or more of the titans. I think that even the souls of living people apply, here, despite what some of Emmrich's codices discuss. When you consider how Solas speaks about the Inquistor's spirit in DAI, it seems apparent that (at least to Solas) spirits and souls are interchangeable terms, when they belong to a living person.

Additionally, there is a manor in the Hossberg Wetlands that features an Obsession demon locked away that Rook must kill once they get to its location. The party speculates how the demon may have gotten there, and (I believe Rook) comments on how it is possible that the person from the manor themself may have become the demon.

That would imply that their soul was capable of doing so.

Now, let's go back to how spirits (the Maker's first children) and dwarves (the Maker's second children) are in possession of the same souls, per the Chant of Light. Understanding that the Chant of Light is flawed and that I do not believe that Solas is the Maker (rather, that Solas may have come from the titan that Andraste spoke to), I want to draw attention to this verse.

Then the Maker said: "To you, My second-born, I grant this gift: In your heart shall burn An unquenchable flame All-consuming, and never satisfied. From the Fade I crafted you, And to the Fade you shall return Each night in dreams That you may always remember Me." — Threnodies 5:5

It's important to note that the Maker says to his second-born (the dwarves) that they shall return to the Fade each night in dreams. Remember: the dwarves were once able to dream. More than that, though, the Maker says that the dwarves may visit the Fade each night in dreams to be able to connect with the Maker. They were, in fact, crafted with the "flesh of the Fade," a reference made to lyrium.

That implies a direct connection between the titans and the Fade. It suggests that, once, the titans also shared the Fade with other living creatures—or, perhaps, even more. I still believe that the Fade is the collective consciousness of the titans, and that reconnecting with the Fade is part of reconnecting with the titans because of that fact.

The Dark and the Light, Sundered

In a previous post, I theorized that, because Solas created the Veil and it seemed to have sundered the titans in addition to separating the Fade from the waking world, the Fade must be the titans' shared consciousness. We know now that those were two separate acts: Solas sundered the titans and put part of their dreams into the orbs that became the Evanuris' foci. For a time, I thought that this theory must be wrong.

However, in the same series of memories, we learned one more fact: his ritual to create the Veil went wrong. In Memory #3 (Blackened Hearts), he cries out in pain during the moment the Veil is created. This not only hurt the world, but exhausted Solas. Hurt Solas.

"He broke the dreams to stop the old dreams from waking. The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap." — Cole dialogue

This refers to the creation of the Veil. We know now that Solas created it, in part, to stop the blight from escaping—that would be the old dreams waking that Cole refers to. What's interesting is that Cole refers to this as Solas chewing off his own metaphorical leg to escape the trap. There was always a personal consequence for Solas referenced here.

But why? Why would being cut off from the Fade outside of dreams hurt him? Spirits exist on Thedas all the time. It is only the trauma of being pulled through the Veil against their will that turns them to demons.

To understand that, we must understand what the Fade even is. How it relates to the titans, and what that means going forward.

First, I want to take a look at this codex from Inquisition, which suggests that the water in the Abyss (the realm of the titans) may be the exact same thing as the emerald waters in the Fade.

It is possible—even likely—that the "emerald waters" Andraste refers to are the substance of the Fade, which began as an "ocean of dreams" (Threnodies 1:1) and was reduced to a well—bottomless but limited in scope—by the Maker's creation of our world. —Codex Entry: Here Lies the Abyss

There are other similarities between these two things that come up in Veilguard, if you're looking for them. The first, for me, is a codex.

What determines which sections of the physical world are echoed in the Fade? Is there an underlying logic, or glacial patterns past comprehension? Do our collective fears and longings craft what we see? The will of a mage is especially potent. We may learn to shape the Fade's pathways, if we are ever-mindful of the dangers this invites. — Codex entry: The Obverse of Reality

The phrasing here is very interesting. We know that Shaping is something that the titans once did. The dwarves, to this day, have the Shaperate, in charge of the Memories. To see that language applied to a mage's influence on the Fade implies that mages may exist the same power to manipulate the Fade as the titans did on the Stone, which suggests that the Fade and the Stone can be Shaped in the same ways. The similarity here does lend itself to a theory where the titans and the Fade are parts of the same being/collective.

The second is that one of the revenants—the Slaughtered Pillars, from Elvhenan's Haven—have a line of dialogue that jarred me the first time I heard it.

"Light and song, stolen."

We know that the titans being sundered took their songs away, for the dwarves (save for a few, now) do not hear the titans' songs anymore. It's the word light that gave me pause.

Three guesses as to where I looked for more instances of the word light. If you guessed the Chant of Light, the gigantic piece of lore with light in its title, you are correct!

The first mention I want to note is the very early in the Chant

Opposition in all things: For earth, sky For winter, summer For darkness, Light. — Threnodies 5:4

Note that Light is capitalized here, implying significance. Again, it appears here. Here, we're implying that capitalized Light refers directly to the Fade.

(11) Above them, a river of Light, Before them the throne of Heaven, waiting — Threnodies 8:11

And, lastly, and most prominently in Veilguard: the Lighthouse. Its name, in the elven language, is "Vhen'Theneras." Translated, though, that would mean, "core of dreams." Unless, of course, dreams and Light are the same thing.

But if the Light is indeed the Fade, and there must be opposition in all things according to the Maker, then where have we seen dark before?

We've seen it in the Abyss—aka, the Void. We've seen it in the darkspawn. Those blighted beings that emerge from the Deep Roads, aka the Abyss/Void. Remember that the blight itself is the escaped maddened dreams of the sundered titans. Darkspawn refers to the product of those escaped dreams—the ones not in the Fade/Light.

Crucially, the darkspawn behave in much the same way as anything connected to Isatunoll. They hear a Calling that, at first, belonged to the archdemons, but Antoine now says is coming from somewhere else, as well.

It's the description of Isatunoll that ties this all together for me: titans/their children and spirits, Abyss and Fade, dark and Light.

In a letter from Dagna to Harding, she describes Isatunoll — but in that description, she focuses on this idea that beings connected to a hivemind "know their purpose." Purpose is a word used by Solas all the time in DAI. Spirits have their own purpose.

Think about ants. Ants know what they are. They know their purpose, and they must understand, instinctually, how that purpose fits within the whole. But what if it doesn't end there? What if their consciousness isn't just individual? What if the nest itself knew what it was? A collective sentience of some kind. Nothing says the ants don't have a collective sentience. We just assume they don't, because they're ants. Ants. Or bees. Or darkspawn. Now, there's a thought. — Codex Entry: Thoughts on "Isatunoll"

What if consciousness itself is not individual? asks Dagna. What if the nest itself knew what it was? This explains the darkspawn, after all: the blighted beings who are all connected to the song of the Calling, and the maddened dreams the blight originates from.

The nest, except for that small trickle of escaped blight, is the Fade. The Fade, which is a place that responds to the collective wants and memories of those inside it. The Fade, whose pathways are shaped by the thoughts and wants of the people—especially mages—within it.

My theory is this: the creation of the Veil may have hurt Solas because Solas was still connected to his titan, and to Isatunoll. Some of his love of the Fade may be because he misses the titans' shared dreams—and, by extension, the shared dreams of every living person on Thedas (except the dwarves, and we know why that is).

Atonement Solas' Promise: He (Still) Seeks Regeneration

We know that the Fade is the collective consciousness of the Titans. Their shared dreams. We also know that not all titans are blighted, because the one in Descent is not. Harding's titan also is not, by the end of DA:tV. I posit that this is why much of the Fade, according to Solas in DAI, is far preferable to the Nightmare's domain that we get to see in DAI. Some of that shared consciousness is still healthy.

Easing the titans' anger, therefore, means fixing all of the Fade. Reconnecting the two might mean that the collective consciousness between all spirits could return to Thedas—and since at least elves' and dwarves' souls likely come from the same origin, it could do a lot to bring some of the people of Thedas together.

This, to me, is part of Solas' grand plan. It is not only to bring back the world from Mythal's time—it is to bring back the world before they broke so much of it, before the titans were sundered by his hand. After all: Solas seeks... regeneration. And that's something he promises us after Mythal leaves.

It's important to me, therefore, that Solas says the blight can feel his presence during the fighting in Minrathous. Not that Elgar'nan can detect Solas through the blight, but that the blight itself can feel him. Neve/Bellara, depending on who is taken, can reach out to protect Solas the very same way: by communing with the blight itself, feeling what it wants, and redirecting its course. We see, here, a hivemind in action.

We also know that Atoned!Solas promises to "soothe the titans' anger." This is something he promises to do from Fade Jail, implying that he is able to interact with the titans and their anger from the Black/Golden City. This implies that the Fade itself, as a realm, is a means of communing with the titans, not just a specific spot within it.

The Veil coming down was always going to un-sunder the titans, and that was always one of the true aims of Solas' goals. Even if it meant blighting the world at first and effectively causing the apocalypse, the titans would eventually feel soothed. The Veil is a wound inflicted on this world, Solas has said before... and we know now that it was.

This section, short as it is, is just me telling you that Solas is still able to achieve those ends from Fade Jail. Just because the Veil is now bound to Solas' life force does not mean that the titans can no longer heal.

This buys us valuable time, allowing the titans' anger to soothe before their consciousness is restored, so that the transition is gentler. It promises hope for all of Thedas going forward. It might even promise a healthier, more stable Fade, shaped by dream, idea, and hope more than fear.

But what will that mean for future games? What could the Fade have to do with what's to come?

Why is now the time that the Executors and "those across the sea" want to make their big planned move on Thedas? Why is now when the "poison fruit" has ripened?

Like many of you, I hope to figure it out—and I feel that every day, I get closer.

Stay tuned. :)

___

If you read this far, you're a hero, now and always.

Like I keep saying: I have to absorb this lore day by day! I cannot inhale the entire wiki in a day, much as I'd like to believe I could! That means that future posts can't adhere to a strict schedule, as they depend on me unearthing enough codices, notes, and connecting threads to provide a post's worth of material.

In future, I'm hoping to learn more about: the Forgotten and Forbidden ones, as well as the connections between them; the Executors, those across the sea, and the connections between THEM; the areas across the sea; the Devouring Storm and what it could mean for Thedas' existence... and maybe how Ghilan'nain was ever connected to any of it.

Stick with me on this journey, if you like. It's fun to keep theorycrafting and yelling with you all. <3

#dragon age #veilguard spoilers #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #da:tv #da:v #da theory #da meta #dragon age theory #dragon age meta #dragon age lore #dragon age theorycrafting #solas #solas dragon age #harding #harding dragon age #lace harding

184 notes · View notes

dalamjisung · 3 months ago

Text

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 6: Silver linings

genre: FINALLY JUST SOME PURE COMFORT FLUFFFFF

word count: 6151

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: weeks pass you by without much happening and you need to remind yourself: you believe in silver linings.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

author's note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEE! It took me so long to feel like they were ready for this but oh my god, the wait was so worth itttttt! what are you excited about with this chapter? Let me know in the comments! <3 if you want to join the taglist for this series, please let me know in the comments! also, I would love to dedicate this chapter to the lovely @donttrustlove who reads and comments on every chapter I post <3

“We have a few emails coming in for the manager position, do you want to check them out?”

You two are sitting on his kitchen counter like this is the most natural thing to do at two in the morning. Spencer has work the next morning but still insists that it’s fine and that he wants to keep you company. You think he still feels guilty about the fact that, if not for him and his weird connection to Cat, you would have never been put into this tricky of a position. So he makes up for it where he can– he brings dinner whenever he knows he’ll be home late because he knows you’ll be waiting for him to eat; he makes a mean cereal bowl in the morning whenever he has time; he leaves books he knows you are yet to read by the small table next to your armchair because that is now your armchair and he would never steal that away from you.

In your own efforts, you also try to make him feel a bit more comfortable with the reality of everything, and you don’t bug him much to go outside, anymore. You don’t call him all panicked and gasping for air whenever he goes on work trips either, instead choosing to spend those lonely days in the endless company of Penelope. Officer Kaper has gotten better and been cleared to work again, and having him with you whenever Spencer isn’t brings you some sort of comfort and guilt. This man had become a target thanks to you and suddenly, you don’t quite read the fantastical stories of princesses and their faithful knights. The way your stomach weights down whenever they eventually get hurt to protect the fairest lady of the land does not sit right with you anymore– you refuse to believe that romance is hurt and pain for one and comfort and safety for the other.

At this point two weeks had gone by without you even noticing. Suddenly, you jumped from day 9 to day 23 and with the month mark approaching, so is your need for answers. Cat has been silent ever since the attack on Officer Kaper’s house, and so is her partner. For a second, it’s almost like she’s teasing you, like she’s throwing a taste of freedom in your face only to later pull the carpet from right under your feet. Spencer must feel like this too, considering how jittery he has been lately. At this point, you know how to recognise the different gestures of those pretty hands, and the way he fidgets with his fingers while reading War and Peace yet again tells you that he is not, in fact, reading the book, but trying to read himself. You don’t quite understand him fully yet, and that is okay; Spencer has shown you that even if it takes time, he is worth waiting for.

You still don’t know what happened to him, weeks ago, when you two were discussing Josh. You still don’t know what made him choke on his own words or what had his body limp and stripped of energy in your arms, but the truth is that you don’t really care what it was. Not yet. For now, you are just happy that Spencer showed you a side of himself that you had never seen before, and that he has been less… overbearing about your job. Actually, he had been the one that told you to check your emails for applications, suggesting stating the interview process so that you can make a schedule to possibly go back to the store. “Are you serious?” You whispered to him, eyes wide and waiting for Derek to pop out from the kitchen shouting ha! Gotcha!

“Of course,” He smiled and nodded and the rest is history.

The chairs are so close together that your legs brushes against his every time you lean forward to squint at the computer, but at this point, you two don’t even notice it. Cuddling on the couch after a mentally taxing conversation had unlocked new heights for you two, and though he does miss the way your cheeks flushed red whenever your fingers brushed, he prefers how now you just smile, honest and bright, whenever he’s closer than he should be. You don’t know that, but Spencer thinks your spoiling him rotten with these smiles. In your defence, however, smiling at him is just the easiest thing in the world. “Okay, what do we think of this one? His name is–“

“No.”

Your head whips to look at him, eyes wide behind your glasses. “But I didn’t even finish my sentence!”

“There is a weird gap in his resume,” Spence points out with a smug smile. He likes showing off to you, you’ve noticed.

“I can ask him about it during the interview process! Spence, he used to work at–“

“Next.”

You know he won’t budge when he gives you that tight-lipped, dimples-showing smile of his. “My god, you are hard to please,” You grumble and poke him in the stomach with your elbow, already scrolling to the next email.

When you feel his arm falling onto the back of your chair, you lean back a little into his touch, humming to keep yourself awake. “I am not hard to please,” He says easily. “I just won’t accept you hiring mediocre men to do the job you’ve been doing flawlessly.”

The way he emphasises men makes you chuckle. “But a mediocre woman is okay?”

“A bit better,” He admits gruffly, and you laugh. “This one seems promising!”

“Give me time to read, Spencer!” You groan, leaning forward again and nodding while your eyes scan through each line. “Okay, she seems good, Mr. Picky. Studied English Literature, so she’ll obviously have some literary background, has previous experience managing bookshops and cafes, has dealt with stock and suppliers before…” The list goes on and on, and you write her name down on the notebook to your right. That’s where the names Penelope will be running a background check on go, per Spencer’s insistence.

“Wait a second,” Something about the name, so visual and palpable in your little notebook previously filled with facts and memories of Spencer, makes you frown. Why does it sound so familiar?

Abigail Harrison.

“What is it?” He hums, chin once again finding perch on your shoulder. Little by little, you start to think that that is where he belongs, leaning on you, relying on you. “Who is Abigail Harrison?”

“I don’t–“ But then you see it, the address on top of the resume and you hold your breath. “Abigail.”

“Abi– Wait, the new neighbour? That Abigail?” His arms go around you, and now you’re in an awkward angle, half falling off the chair, half leaning on him, but you don’t mind. What you do mind is the uncomfortable, suspicious feeling in your gut. “Oh. That’s fine.”

“You don’t think it’s a weird coincidence?” Turning to look at him, you bit your lip in unsureness.

“Not really– if anything, I think it’s a very logical series of events,” He shrugs and you feel it in your own body. “She clearly has the experience and is obviously looking for a job, so why not one that fits her as an employee and is just a five minute walk across the street?”

As if sensing your worries, Spencer moves, yet again doing the unpredictable and dropping a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Having one thing to worry about it not enough, apparently, so he gives you another one, and now you know for a fact you won’t be able to sleep any time soon. He’s been doing things like this lately, and you think it’s because he’s finally getting used to your presence next to him at almost all hours of the day. His phobia of germs seems to be pushed aside when it comes to your skin, and if he washes his hand right after letting you go, you don’t take it to heart; it’s just who he is. But with cheek kisses and forehead kisses starting a list, this is yet another one for you to tally up– shoulder kisses. All five stars, ten-out-of-ten-would-do-it-again, though you don’t really ask him for them. You just wait. Living with Spencer has taught you patience, amongst many other things, and for him you don’t mind exercising it to its fullest, excited for your list to grow even longer.

“Garcia already ran her name through the database,” He whispers in your ear, hands going up and down your arms in a gesture that tells you he knows you’re nervous. “She’s clean, sweetheart.”

This is new too.

Letting out a strangled noise at the changes that kept on coming, you nod, mind completely shifting focus. “Yeah, okay,” You breathe out, eyes slowly fighting to stay open and not because of the time. “I uh, I’ll reply to her and ask her to come in to the shop for an interview…”

“That sounds great, but it also sounds like it can be done tomorrow when you’re not almost falling asleep,” Oh, sweet, innocent Spencer. Before you can even protest, he shakes his head, smiling like he’s trying to hold it back. “We’re going to bed, Y/N. I have work tomorrow and now, so do you.”

Any and all protests fall disappear from your lips– the prospect of getting to go to work after only being able to keep the store’s website open actually has you excited enough to make you sleepy. The contradictory emotions will surely bit you in the ass when you actually lay down next to Spencer, but you don’t care. You get to open up the shop again and that alone is enough to make you squeak in glee, naked feet thumping through the wooden floor. He always bugs you to put on socks, afraid that you’ll get sick with the cold breeze that manages to push its way in despite the windows being shut, but you like feeling the cold on your soles. It always sends a little zap of life up your body and you enjoy it the same way kids enjoy hopping in the mud despite the mess– it makes you feel alive.

There is a rhythmic routine to how you and Spencer get ready for bed. He brushes his teeth behind you, and you usually wash your face first, so that while he does it, you can braid your hair ready for the night. At first, you didn’t really worry about that because you two did your best to stay in your respective corner of the bed. You tried putting a pillow between you too but after the first time you kicked it off of the bed, you never bring it to the room with you again. Then you tried just paying attention, but that made you lose a significant amount of sleep and you ended up cranky for days. Giving up and accepting that, like it or not, you will end up waking up in Spencer’s arms, legs tangled with his and mouth drooling a little on his shirt, had been the best thing to do to move forward. Now, you two don’t pretend that anything else will happen, and before you’re even asleep, he opens his arms with a grunt, your signal to scoot closer and enjoy your very own space heater of man. “Alright, alright, I’m here,” You mumbled, happy with the way your body is warm but your feet are cold. So cold, in fact, that the moment one brushes up against his, Spencer yelps.

“What the hell was that?” He gasps, eyes going wide in shock.

“What?” You ask, smiling mischievously.

It would be unfair to say that the fear from early in the days has disappeared. It hasn’t– you’re still scared. Sometimes, it tackles you like a football player, abruptly and with so much force that you’re left breathless and immobile for a few minutes. Other times, it creeps up behind you, and you have time to prepare yourself. Despite the sudden appearances, however, your fear has lost that constantness that it had before. It’s duller, to the point that at times it’s just not there at all. And you quite like it, everything considered… it gives you space to breathe. It also gives you space to be– not be anything specific, but just be. And the more you can be, the more your personality starts to come back, peeking through the curtains you had set between yourself and the world.

Spencer always knew you were a playful woman, but this just confirmed it. “Y/N, don’t you–AH! Oh my god, these are death machines! Put some socks on!”

“Never!” You shout before fully pushing your feet against his legs.

Laying there, feeling Spencer squirm underneath you and then going off on some random fact about why it is important to keep your feet warm, is when you remember.

You are a believer in silver linings.

And you believe Spencer might just be yours.

————————————

The shop looked exactly like you had left it, which made you happy and sad at the same time. Took you almost an hour to leave the house that morning, Spencer practically having to drag you away from the mirror with promises that “You look beautiful, Y/N.” Officer Kaper is waiting for you by the door when Spencer drops you off with a kiss to your cheek and hurried steps down the street.

From then on, it’s a frenzy of cleaning. You try to convince Officer Kaper– or Mike, as he told you to call him– that he should sit down and guard the door, but he’s having none of it and instead, carries the not so heavy boxes of brand new books that you ordered as soon as you got news you’d be coming back to work. This is exciting to you, this return to normal, but it also makes you somewhat anxious. Once all of this is resolved– and you’ve taken to thinking about it with the mindset that it is not if it will be resolved, but once it is resolved– what will happen to you and Spencer? Living with him has its perks and the biggest one is that you get to actually see him with some sort of frequency. You get to experience having him in your life instead of just someone who comes and goes as they want. If you go back home, even if just across the street, right above your store he visits everyday… will you still feel this connection you do right now? Will you still get forehead kisses, and sneaky touches of his hand, and his pinky hooking with yours when you pass by?

None of that matters, though, when you hear the bell ringing through the shop. A customer. “Hello!” You call out from the shelves, making your way to the front. A buzz of anxiousness runs through you, though you quickly put it out; there is a literal police office standing guard by the door. You are safe.

You are even safer when you see it’s Abigail, the downstairs neighbour.

“Hi! I’m a little early, I hope that’s alright?”

Oh god. With all the cleaning and organising, you lost track of time. “Oh gosh, yeah, of course!” You say, pulling your hair down from the mess on top of your hair and smoothing it down.

You want to make a good impression on her. Out of all four interviews you have today, you hate to admit that Abigail seems the most fit for the position. Her experience is almost immaculate and her immediate availability is almost too good to be true. In fact, Abigail as a whole, with her warm smile and welcoming aura, seems too good to be true. As much as you believe in silver linings, she just seems like a straight up miracle.

“Please, sit,” Pointing to the foldable chair by the corner of the counter, you smile. “We don’t really have a sitting area yet, but I’m working on it.”

“Oh don’t worry about it!” Abigail’s voice is bright and peppy, and you should like her. You do like her, actually, but even so, you can’t quite ignore the nagging feeling in your gut. “I also brought a copy of my resume in case you didn’t have mine readily available–“

“I have it here, but thank you!” So far she has been nothing but delightful, and to be honest, it’s almost like she is a missing puzzle. The way she fits in the store is almost weird, and maybe is the way she is dressed so similarly to you, or how she looks like someone who would manage a bookshop, all plaid and cardigans and pretty smiles.

Pretty.

Abigail is pretty and that’s when it downs on you that you feel a little jealous. You are not ugly by any means, but the idea that Spencer will go to your store only to look at another woman– a younger, prettier woman– has you holding your breath.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

Snapping out of it, you blush in embarrassment. You’re being crazy and you know it. “Yeah! Sorry, my mind went somewhere else for a second. So uh, why don’t we start with you just telling me a little bit about yourself and what do you want to work here, I guess.” You sound as unsure as you feel, and you suddenly regret saying no to the list of questions Spencer offered to make you.

“Well, we’ve met briefly when I was moving into the building,” She giggles. “But my name is Abigail Harrison, recently moved to Washington D.C. from New York City–“

“I’m from New York!” You exclaim, big smile spreading as you finally place the familiar intonation in her voice.

“No way! Where? I was born and raised in Brooklyn!” And suddenly it all makes sense– her cool nerdiness, her extroverted nature, her ease to fit in. This girl is definitely from Williamsburg.

“Oh, I was raised in the West Village but then moved to uh, Upper East Side,” The memory of moving in with Joshua is an uncomfortable one and makes you immediately change the course of the conversation. Throughout this interaction, you have to remember to be nice, but also serious. You don’t want to give her the impression that this will be an easy job, specially not with how reluctant you already were with hiring someone. “So, why do you want to work here? Besides the close proximity, of course.”

“To be honest, I–“ And there is a pause. It’s not long nor weird, it just sounds like she’s thinking, but Spencer likes to point out your own pauses whenever you try to lie to him about your strategy during nightly backgammon, and it’s become a sort of a bad habit you’ve gotten from him. Squinting, you let her continue. “I just really like the store. I know this sounds a bit ridiculous, but I walk past here every morning, and every morning, I prayed that it would be open. Everything inside looked so… homey. So familiar. And I’ve worked with books my entire life, you know? I thought… it was fate.”

There is a redness in her cheeks that makes you squirm in your seat, nape of your neck suddenly feeling a little clammy. “Fate…” You mumble, nodding while looking down at the blank notebook on your lap. Right now, you are torn– you are trying to understand what is it about Abigail that makes you so hesitant while also fighting against your gut simply because the more she talks about her experience, the more you know she has to be the one.

“…and after almost five years as a manager, I’ve found that I have a really good method of keeping things in order,” She finishes, nodding eagerly for you to show her any reaction.

“That is really good to hear,” You gulp, getting your head back in place. “So just to reiterate, this would be a full time, part time position, of sorts. I would still come in some days in the week, and you would be acting manager whenever I am not here to oversee things. Whenever I am here though, you would be a very welcomed extra pair of hands and company. Believe it or not, we tend to get quite busy during lunch time and it was getting a bit too much to be here by myself.”

“So we’d still work together some days, right?” Her excitement is so clear in her voice that even Officer Kaper turns to pay more attention to you two. “Like, we’d still get to be a uh, a team?”

“Of course,” You say, nodding stiffly and looking at the clock. “I love working in a collaborative environment and I wouldn’t leave you alone in a new job straight away. We’ll start with training days and go from there.”

“That sounds incredible!”

“Yeah…” Looking at Mike– you are doing your best to abide by his wishes and call him by his first name– he gives you a little nod of recognition. “Anyways, do you have any questions for me?” When she shakes her head, you get up and offer her a hand to shake. “I’ll be making a decision by today end of day. I have a couple of other people to interview, but I’ll let you know either way.”

Is it just you or is her hand lingering a little?

“If you don’t call me, I know where to find you,” She says, her little laughter giving out the fact that this is supposed to be a joke. But you don’t laugh. And neither does the armed policeman by your door.

“Ha ha,” You say, trying your best to be nice regardless. “That you do!”

“Your boyfriend is lucky to have you, I bet he gets lots of books for free,” Abigail is a chatterbox, that much is clear, and with every try for a conversation, the more you feel like she’s just digging for gossip. For a minute, you actually think you are back in high school.

“Wha–“

“Or is that not your boyfriend?”

You don’t really know what to do, and it shows. Which is why you’re not surprised at all when Officer Kaper, your one and only hero, steps in. “Sorry to ask, ma’am, I should’ve said something before, but would you mind me checking your ID? We are conducting a security check system for the businesses in this area, there has been a rise in robberies lately and this is just for precaution.”

“Oh my! Of course,” After that, it doesn’t take long for her leave.

There is not even a minute of silence until a customer walks in and you have to slap that fake smile in your face again. The hair on the back of your neck is standing up in a way that makes you a bit too aware of everything, and that, in turn, makes your heart skip a beat. Nervously glancing at Mike, you keep trying to remind yourself that you are safe, that you have someone to protect you. It’s hard to focus on your work when Spencer’s voice echoes in your head making up a list of everything that could go wrong. Your job is very open to the general public. People can easily see inside. You don’t know what they have in their bags. His habit of mouthing off whatever comes to mind is not coming back to bite you in the ass.

“You have a boyfriend?” Officer Kaper’s questions snaps you back to reality.

“Huh? Oh! No!” Shaking your head, you awkwardly lean over the counter to try and ignore the sure blush on your cheeks. “She’s talking about Spencer.”

“She knows Doctor Reid?” It’s clear from his tone that this arises some suspicion in him.

“She just moved into the building and we met her when we were coming out for a second,” You shrug. You don’t want to feed your panic and you also don’t want to leave the man who got injured because of you on edge and scared. Abigail is just a bit taller than you and definitely stronger, with the body of someone who seems to care about her healthy appearance, while you… well, you prefer sitting on your armchair all afternoon with a cup of coffee and a book in your hands. A bit of a cliche, yes, but your life overall was a bit of a cliche, if you think too hard about it. “Spence thought it was better to let her believe whatever.”

“Hm, I’m sure he did,” Mike said with a dramatic wink, wiggling his brows in that suggestive way that makes you chuckle so desperately that he has a hard time not laughing at your reaction. “You know, I think Doctor Reid has a crush on you.”

“Ex-Excuse me?” You sputter out, eyes wide at how easy it is for this man to voice something that has been swimming in your head so insistently.

Spencer having a crush on you is not that wild of a thought, when you think about it objectively. It’s the Proximity Principle. You read about it once back when you were in college and it’s kind of stuck– people are more likely to form close relationships with other people they spend significant amount of time with. Unfortunately, though, you also know that crushes are also dependant on a certain fantastical factor, something that allows humans to project a lot of their needs onto the one that holds their affections. Predicting Spencer’s needs is actually not hard either, and the more he tells you about himself, the more your heart break for the boy that lives inside that man; the one that is afraid of being abandoned, the one that misses his mother dearly, the one sees a family in the coworkers he spends so much time with. You see how you can fulfil this role for him, you’re not blind nor stupid. His smile gives him away, to be very honest, with how bright and big it gets when he notices you waiting for him to get home, sitting in your armchair, reading the book he left for you next to it. Or how he tries to hold it back, that gorgeous, beautiful smile, when he hears you calling his name, all whiny and shy at the same time, to ask him something so ridiculous and out of pocket that he can’t do anything but laugh.

You are the sense of belonging he never had.

The same way that he is the sense of consistency you’ve always craved. Though in your case, you know that he is so much more than that.

In his… well, you will never know until you ask.

And my god, you’re not ready to ask.

“Yeah, a crush,” Officer Kaper shrugs, walking to the counter and smiling like a kid saying something naughty. “He used to talk about you all the time, before all this. The pretty bookseller.”

“Now you’re just enjoying making me squirm,” You say, squinting at him despite how his words make your heart race.

“Maybe I am,” He jokes. “But I’m serious! You two are obviously into each other… right?”

“Officer–“

“Mike, please!”

“Mike,” You sigh with an attitude, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “Are you trying to profile me?”

His silence is enough of an answer to make you gasp.

“It’s not like that–“

“Mike, do you want to be a BAU profiler?!” The way you whisper makes all of this feel like a big secret ever. Your body is leaning over to try and get closer to him, and you’re so excited about knowing this that it makes you bounce a little in your feet. “Why didn’t you say something before? I’m sure Spence would help! You can ask him all the questions and–“

“I already too the FBI entrance exam once and didn’t get in,” He interrupts you with such abruptness that something in the air shifts. This is not fun anymore. It’s tense. “It’s fine. I’m happy doing my part here with the MPD.”

“You are,” You nod. “You really are. Thank you.”

That is the last of the small talk for the day, the next interviewee coming in before you can say another peep.

————————————

“Did you have a good time at the store today?”

This is the first time that you are not the one doing the waiting. Or the cooking. Or– “Did you clean?” You ask, a bit shocked with how spotless the entire place looks even though the air smells like tomato sauce and… something else?

“Why do you say this as something so hard to believe?” Spencer is baffled at your expression, laughing incredulously. “I live here! This is my apartment! I’ve been living by myself since I was 18!”

“I just never seen you clean!” You defend yourself with a lighthearted laughter.

“I’m thirty years old!”

“That just means you’re old,” And you two fall back to the usual teasings while you walk around the living room, dropping your coat and bag on the couch, and moving into the kitchen to help with whatever you can. “Oh my! And you even cooked! Careful Spence, you’re spoiling me… I might just want you to make me dinner everyday from now on.”

Spencer just shrugs with that little shy smile playing on his lips. “I could get used to spoiling you…”

“I could get used to being spoiled,” You mumble, eyes unwavering from his. Letting the tension of the moment grow, you push your hair behind your ears. “Can I help with anything?”

“Not really, I made sure to start it really so it would be ready when you came home,” He says and turns into a ball of excitement that is all limbs and fast words. You love him like this and so you listen, like you’ve been yearning to do all day. He tells you that this is a recipe that Rossi taught him a while ago, and the wine is the exact same one he recommended back then, and just as he says, when you look closely to the busy workspace on the kitchen isle, there they are– two glasses half-full. In a very Spence fashion, he goes on and on about the exactness of the ingredients and how the whole idea that cooking is about ‘feeling it’ is kind of stupid, but the more he talks, the more breathless you find yourself.

There is wine.

There are entrees, and it looks like Spencer did his due diligence, buying your favourite crackers from the deli nearby.

There are main dishes, sides, dessert; and you guess it is some sort of a tiramisu, catching the smudges of chocolate powder and coffee by the sink.

And then there is Spencer. There is Spencer back home early. Spencer wearing his favourite purple sweater. Spencer with his combed hair. Spencer without his phone? Now you are suspicious, looking around with a confused frown on your face.

“Is everything okay?”

“Where is your phone?” His satchel is also not where he usually leaves it, gone from it’s perch by the door.

“My phone?” He asks, sounding as confused as you. “Why do you need my phone?”

“I don’t, I just never seen you without it.”

“Oh,” That makes him laugh. “I don’t need it today.”

“Why not?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N,” Spencer catches you by the shoulder and brings you back to the set dinner. “Just sit down and enjoy this. We finally have some time to spend together.”

“You would never let anything kill me,” You say so easily that it can’t be anything else other than the truth. “Why don’t you need your phone?”

He snorts and turns to mix something in one of his many pans. “Because Hotch and Rossi forbade the team to call me tonight. Derek said he’d be on call instead.”

“That’s awfully nice of Mister Muscles,” You comment offhandedly and there is something about the way you notice Spencer tensing a little that makes your smirk.

“He has a girlfriend, you know.”

“Oh, I know– I heard it all from his baby girl, who is not his girlfriend, but is a big fan of that couple,” You say, happily smiling while munching on a cracker. “Why?”

“Just checking if you knew. A lot of girls are usually… taken… by Derek’s looks and charms, but he’s off the market now. I think Savannah is here to stay.”

Crinkling your nose at the though of dating Agent Derek Morgan, you quickly shake your head. “God, no, I’m not– No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he is objectively handsome, but he’s not my type.”

“Are we talking about the same Derek Morgan?” He scoffs without turning to you. “He is everyone’s type…”

“Not mine,” You repeat, silently getting up from where you sway your feet. With muted steps, you walk around the kitchen isle to stand behind him, fidgeting with your hands in a moment of unsureness.

Maybe you are reading this wrong. Not every man that does a nice gesture is interested in you, you know that mainly because you never really believe people are interested in you at all, but it’s getting progressively hard to not look at everything he had done for you and not think it is a date.

Before you can overthink this, Spencer is moving backwards. “Oh? What is your type, then– oh fuck!” Your arms go around his waist as soon as he bumps into you, and you don’t let him squirm away, even though he tries. “Y/N, wha-what are you doing…?”

Gently, you let your head fall onto his back, forehead pressing close to his nape. Silence reigns until you are ready to speak, but Spencer waits, tense and oh so patient. “Spencer,” You whisper with your broken voice, nerves getting the best of you and making you shake like a chihuahua. “Spencer, is this–“

Sweet as ever, his hand moves from the counter, where his knuckles are white with how hard he grips it, to a slow touch to your hand. Brushing his fingers overs your skin, he whispers back. “Is this what?”

“Spencer is this a…” Why can’t you bring yourself to say it?

Around you, there is noise. You hear the neighbours upstairs, the click-clack of their shoes echoing until they are gone. You hear the heater pipes reading themselves to work through the night once again. You hear the food in front of you two bubbling and sizzling. And my god, do you hear him… you hear his heart, beating, racing, so strong and fast, that you smile to yourself. This is all Spencer– every noise, every shake, every thump and thud of that amazing, loving heart of his.

“It is.”

Your arms squeeze around him in shock. “I didn’t even say it.”

“By now, you should know you don’t have to,” The soft cadence of his perfect pronunciation tells you that he is feeling confident and calm, and you bask in it for a second or two. Until he hits you with the million dollar question. “If Morgan is not your type, who is?”

“I want to say it, though.”

“Who is your type?”

It’s a weird battle of stubbornness between you two, but you don’t mind. You would fight this war forever, if it meant this– feeling him alive and breathing and laughing. “Let me say it,” You ask, smiling coyly even though he can’t see it. “Please.” His adorable little laughter sends a wave of ripples down his back and you press your face closer to feel it. “Say it then.”

“Spencer Reid, is this a date?”

“I was hoping it would be,” He says and pauses. “Y/N Y/L/N, am I your type?”

“I don’t really have a type,” You say slowly, pulling back a little to nudge him to turn around. You only smile when you see his eyes– those curious, curious eyes– that constantly look for answers for his questions. Sometimes, you don’t have answers, but he looks for them anyways. First in one, then the other. Spencer looks at you carefully, slowly, like you are something worth committing to that memory of his by the detail. Like he wants to remember you even when he closes his eyes. You see it, how you make him feel like he belongs, with your open smiles and blinking eyes. But you also see, for the first time, how you are also so much more. “But if I did, it would be you.”

You are a believer in silver linings.

And yes, Spencer might just be yours… specially with the way his lips feel against yours.

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

Taglist:

@fanfic-viewer

@mysticpeachobject

@donttrustlove

@r-3dlips

@lolitsbuckybarnes

@lilrios-world

@iniyalovesall

@beabfleab

@dojacatismywife

@queenofshinigamis

@beersangel

@catchthewindd

@charismatic-writer

@freaky-dcaky

@scarlettoh

@drreidslove

@spicyytomatoyay

@kitty-kei

@sapphirecobalt-1

@jebesovovise

@cultish-corner

@areiofhope

@candid-confetti

@godilovetoomuch

@redros3y

@gibson-g1rl

@bunnylov-3-r

@yokaimoon

@glorioussunrise13

@idkimheretoreadonethibgofpsencdd

@pleasantwitchgarden

@issy25

@ilovechanyeol16

@gghostwriter

@stanswifties

@chicaconfundidaycuriosa

@dragon03138

@tbsloneely

@bloodredrubyrose

@rossemayme

@jackchampiongf13

@prentissmybeloved

@danielle-munya

@eliscannotdance

@keira-fitzsimmons

@jamieeboulos

@starofthedawn

@alikpo

@writingforoursouls

@marauder--harder

@spencers-love

140 notes · View notes

pastanest · 10 months ago

Text

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

A/N: been gone for a hot minute due to personal circumstances but just wanted to drop a lil something (that anyone who watches Doctor Who will be able to tell I started writing a BIT ago given the references here lol) to let you guys know I’m still kickin it <3

warnings: slight hint at an age gap but nothing specific

A Smile

You can imagine the rest of the team would be floored to hear that Spencer has actually exchanged texts with you on a multitude of occasions, outside of professional settings. Numbers were swapped on your first day, naturally, and to begin with you only dared text Spencer if you had absolutely no other choice (if another member of the team could text him, you’d busy yourself to ensure they would, rather than ask you, to save you the embarrassment). But, ever since the first occasion that you texted Spencer a random question out of hours - regarding trivia you definitely hadn’t spent a concerning amount of time deciding on before you sent it to him - you have formed a bond that’s unspoken beyond typed words.

You: so, are you looking forward to the 60th Anniversary? :P

As you hit send, you roll onto your bed, grinning giddily down at your phone. In no more than a few seconds, your screen tells you that your beloved genius is already typing back to you, and within a minute, you receive the paragraph you’d anticipated.

Spencer: Absolutely. The revival of Russel T. Davies’ era, coupled with the return of Murray Gold’s legendary scores, are sure to ignite the spark of nostalgia that the show has been missing for some time. In particular, I am looking forward to seeing how Russel will format this new regeneration of the Doctor, and how many references to his predecessors will decorate the anniversary episodes, especially. I take it you are excited for the anniversary episodes, too, hence the question?

His formality and enthusiasm being conveyed in a way that is so distinctly Spencer, even over text, is enough to have you giggling. You know by now that if you ask something about one of Spencer’s interests, whether it be facts, statistics, generalized trivia, questions, literature, Star Trek or, in this case, Doctor Who, there is no way he can downplay his excitement.

You: knew it! :D and yeah, I'm super excited!!

Mostly, you are thrilled by the thought of discussing the episodes at great length with Spencer for weeks after they’ve aired, but you keep that safely in the subtext of your conversation.

Spencer: Of course you knew. Perhaps we could share a live commentary on the anniversary episodes, if we’re not otherwise engaged with a case?

Only Spencer Reid can make your heart stop with a suggestion like that. Before you can consider any consequences, you are frantically typing back to him.

You: I’d love that! will the commentary be by text or call?

He is typing the moment your message reaches him, his ability to read at what you consider to be the speed of light making for a wonderfully speedy texting partner in every conversation you have.

Spencer: Either is fine, but if we aren’t away on a case, I must admit the idea of experiencing the episodes together in person would be most preferable. It eradicates the risk of our viewings not being synced up or our call connection potentially spoiling the immersion. What do you think?

And just like that, he’s stopped your heart again. In fact, you truly have to consider whether Spencer Reid has figured out a means of reaching through his phone to yours, to snatch your heart right out of your chest. As though he hadn’t already stolen it on the day you met.

You: I think you’re right, like always, Doctor Reid :P

That’s a rational reply, you think. Not too eager. Not the resounding ‘yes’ that every fiber of your being is screaming. In the chess game that is how-to-text-Spencer-Reid, you have marked yourself as the queen. He’d tell you that’s not how chess works, but he’d probably also agree.

Spencer: I’m far from right “always”, but I very much appreciate that you think so.

You’re about to reply, when another text appears on your screen.

Spencer: (:

Doctor Spencer Reid has double-texted you. And, not only that, he’s sent you a smiley face. This is unprecedented. Your jaw drops.

You: omg you did not just send that

Honestly, your life is flashing before your eyes as you lie on your bed. Is this the power of your influence? Could you truly indoctrinate older men into sending emojis? Could this really be you?

Spencer: I most certainly did. I’ll even do it again.

Spencer: (:

He had to send it as a separate text. He couldn’t just add the smiley face to the end of his original message. No, of course he couldn’t.

You: omg who are you!!

You’re laughing now. Actually, properly laughing at the ridiculousness of this situation. Wait until Penelope hears about this.

Spencer: I don’t think these suit me very much, but they are fun. What about this one - 🙂

This is going too far. You’ve played God. You’ve flown too close to the sun. You’ve created a monster in the form of Spencer Reid using emojis while still being so formal. Still, you can’t deny that this is perhaps the funniest conversation you have ever had, with anyone, specifically because it perfectly demonstrates the unique humor shared between the two of you.

You: woah! careful! don’t push it, genius!!

And, in response to that, Spencer Reid is left with a philosophical question he has never before pondered: how does one convey sincere laughter via text? This reply takes him the longest, because he has to consider it very carefully. He wants it to indicate how funny he did find your message, and does find you, in general. He wants it to be obvious in its intent and impossible to misunderstand. So, after four minutes, you receive a text that has you laughing so hard you very nearly fall off of your bed.

Spencer: Haha.

Sometimes, that’s simply how your text conversations with Spencer end. While he does, generally, prefer a more traditional ending in the form of a goodnight text (that he actually makes the effort to sign off with a “- Spencer x”, like it’s a handwritten letter), he enjoys the nuances of an open end, on the basis it means a conversation with you doesn’t have to end. Only has to pause, temporarily, until one of you picks it back up again. There is something poetic, Spencer thinks, to the notion of you being his constant both in metaphor and literally in a text conversation that isn’t formally closed. That door is left open to you, much like the door to his heart is.

And that night, he closes his eyes with a smile on his face at the thought of you, everything you are, everything you make him feel. Everything that makes you, you, and how that makes you everything to him.

A text could never truly convey the heaven that you bring to him by existing, but just like proposing plans to watch Doctor Who with you, it’s a good place to start.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #imagine #imagines #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #spencer reid headcannon #spencer reid imagines

381 notes · View notes

megamindsecretlair · 8 months ago

Text

Runaway Lover, Part 3

Pairing: Professor!Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing/mocking, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, possession kink, all consensual. Power imbalance. Spoilers for the Red Rising Saga by Pierce Brown.

Summary: Having to see Stunna day in and day out is physical torture. So much so that you have to take matters into your hands. However, once Stunna learns that, he has an alternative to benefit you both.

Word Count: 7,193k

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: WHEW, I needed this in my life. They're so cute, I can't stand them. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Artists need it for their enrichment.

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @blackpinup22 @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @amethyst09 @harmshake @satoruya @theunsweetenedtruth @ciaqui

If there were nine circles of hell, you were most certainly in the tenth. Stunna walked in thirty minutes ago wearing a delicious black outfit. It was simple. A black polo shirt, black slacks, no show socks, and white tennis shoes. He wore a few rings, gold bracelets, and a gold necklace peeked out from his collar.

He was, in a word, completely sexy without even trying. And it was absolutely wrecking you. True to your word, you didn’t wear anything provocative. You didn’t wear dresses or skirts, just a heavy rotation of leggings and graphic T-shirts.

But you thought that he was still checking you out. That you caught little glimpses of him smirking or his eyes roving over you.

Stunna did not keep his word, however. He continued showing up to class like he was being interviewed for television that day. All of his outfits had been cataloged thoroughly by you and likely by every other person in the class.

The first week without him was torture beyond compare. The second week felt like your chest was getting cracked open. You saw him a few times a week and you had agreed to not text him. To not call him. And try like hell to not think about him.

That lasted for about…two classes. Before you were running back to your dorm in the middle of the day and letting your vibrator work off some of those nasty thoughts from class. The vibrator was good but paled in comparison to the size of his massive dick.

It couldn’t compare to his hands running over you, manhandling you, or to his filthy words whispered in your ear. You looked away from him unless he saw the look all over your face. But just like with everything else, he seemed connected to you on a deeper level.

His eyes found yours and his jaw flexed. You clenched your thighs and shifted in your seat. Catching on, Stunna cleared his throat and moved across the floor towards a podium. He got everyone’s attention.

“I hope you all did the reading assignment because I want you to break into smaller groups and share your thoughts about the latest chapters. We have enough for about three to a group, I’ll let you pick since you’re adults. But please, if you’re going to partner with friends, actually discuss something about the book,” he said.

That caused a few giggles but your stomach only sank. You didn’t truly have friends in this class. You weren’t the type that was friendly to everyone simply because you were taking the same class.

“Wanna be my partner?” The strawberry blond girl next to you said. You were pretty sure her name was…Samantha?

“Sure,” you said. You didn’t really. You didn’t want her to spontaneously start talking about Stunna. Sitting through his class was bad enough. But pretending like his initials weren’t sewn into your heart was another level of acting that you weren’t great at.

She had recruited someone else, a boy named Khalil that almost rivaled Stunna in good looks. He was lighter with a fade, strong jaw, and a football player build with big arms, narrow waist, and powerful legs. If you weren’t already spoken for, you’d be crushing on him. As it were, no other guy did it for you now.

You introduced yourself formally to him and he smiled. His smile was cute. But nowhere near as devastating as Stunna.

For the next couple of minutes, you discussed the book from the homework assignment. You talked about what you liked and didn’t like about the characters. You heard Stunna moving about the room, checking in with groups and posing challenging questions.

You dreaded the moment he made it to your group. “What you think about using Reds as an entire labor force? Keeping them ignorant, dumb, and too stupid to see that they weren’t getting any closer to the dream?” Khalil asked.

You turned your head to him, confusion likely flitting across your face. You didn’t mean to be biased, but you hadn’t thought he’d have something intelligent to say. He was as quiet as you and you saw him doodling most of the class.

He smirked. “I’m not all good looks,” he said.

You rolled your eyes at the joke and shook your head. “I find it funny that a lot of these sci-fi authors can understand using people for labor is wrong, highlighting the conditions they’re under, and the sheer insidiousness of oppression, but lack any real Black people in their books.”

“Then again, do you really want the Reds to be Black? They damn sure ain’t gonna have any Black golds,” Khalil said.

You laughed, because sadly that's the truth. The Red Rising Saga was an interesting series, but honestly, adult sci-fi writers bored you to tears. They were so stuffy and too into their own wordy prose that they lost the whimsy. The excitement of exploring a new world.

You didn’t need to know every single soap at a market when the more interesting story was about the two main characters who had to find common ground.

Samantha looked completely lost, turning a shade of red that you didn’t think was possible. You stared at her, wondering if she would say anything. You weren’t going to do the work for her or give her an easy out. Khalil seemed of the same mindset as he looked at her as well.

“Well, I find it extremely noble that Darrow did all of this for his love,” Samantha said.

Coward. “Yeah but in this day and age, are we really still fridging women?” You asked.

She was saved from answering from a delicious aroma preceding an equally delicious man. Stunna interrupted, leaning against a desk near your group. He asked what you were discussing and you finally lifted your eyes to meet his.

Huge, huge mistake. You could get lost in those eyes of his. Like sitting underneath a dark night sky looking for stars. You smiled briefly at each other before you turned your attention to Samantha who turned a darker shade of red. Seriously, you were starting to get a little worried.

“We were…um…” She faltered as Stunna looked at her.

Again, jealousy reared its ugly head as she hemmed and hawed her way through a bullshit answer. But you saw the way that she tossed her hair back, batted her eyes. Giggled even though there wasn’t a damn thing funny about the book or your discussion.

“We were talking about the role of women in the book. How Io was fridged and even though there are other women, they are distinctly cold and calculating most of the time. In a society based heavily on Roman culture, it’s a wonder he bothered to put any women at all in it,” you said.

Stunna leaned back, turning his attention back on you. Whoops. You should have let Samantha fumble through her answer. Or better yet, have Khalil come to her rescue. Black dudes usually did after about five minutes of second hand embarrassment.

“I’m sure the author would have gotten flack for not including women or sending the dangerous message that women can’t perform in war games,” Stunna said.

“I’d rather they not do it at all. That’s better than having to sit through ten pages of pining because one of the main girls followed the winning side,” you said.

Just like that, it seemed like you and Stunna were the only two in the room. He listened, which was rare, but he seemed to genuinely think about what you were saying.

“So say you were there, fighting and trying to win the war games. What would you have done?” He asked.

You smirked and launched into all the things you would have done differently. The war games funneled down to a rivalry between two men who got personal. War wasn’t personal. Not when one of the qualifying tasks was killing someone and being let out into the wild with the survivors of their matches.

Stunna listened with rapt attention. You felt like beaming under it. He made you feel like the sun and your body warmed the more he asked more questions. He was clearly the more professional of the two of you, because he included Khalil and Samantha in the discussion as well.

“Good work, this is a good group,” Stunna said. He moved on to another group, passing by you once more. You gasped as he moved as if it were a physical weight on your heart for him to go too far away from you.

Samatha sighed loudly. “He must think I’m a total idiot. You two were so prepared. And me? Ugh. ‘Um, I think I would have aligned with Darrow’,” she said, mimicking her own voice.

“Your answers were just as good, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Khalil said. And there it was. Like clockwork. Goodness forbid she put herself down and has to live with it.

“Do you think he would even go for a student? Obviously not someone in his class, that’s wrong. But like…after?”

Khalil laughed and shook his head. “No, I doubt he’d risk his job for something that stupid. You have thousands of appropriate guys to choose from at this school,” Khalil said. He gave you a look, like he couldn’t believe Samantha was serious.

You smiled and shook your head. There was no way that Stunna would breathe in Samantha’s direction. Because he was already breathing in yours. Once more, you felt the weight of all that transpired in Punta Cana.

You had no way of knowing that you were boning your teacher, that couldn’t be held against you. The second time though…you still had flashbacks of getting bent over his couch and possessed. Owned. The way he staked his claim and made sure that there were no doubts in your head. You were sprung, in the worst way, and you didn’t know if you could make it to the end of the week without him. Let alone another ten.

Class winded down and Stunna congratulated everyone on their ideas and going deeper. Your cheeks burned. You were never going to think about anything else all day.

You had been sitting in a puddle of your own arousal since Stunna walked into the room. You needed to get to your daily sesh as soon as possible. Because the gold gleaming off of his skin was making you drool. You had already cooked up a pretty nasty fantasy in your head and you needed to get it out of your system or risk going crazy.

“I just want to remind you all that my office hours are open. Scheduling is preferred but if you need extra help, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Stunna said. Oh, make that two nasty fantasies in your head.

He let class out and while you packed up your things, Khalil got your attention. “I just wanted to say that I really liked what you were talking about in class. I know people start to roll they eyes when it comes to the role of women in books, but you’re right. Darrow wouldn’t be doing half that shit if his wife was still around,” he said.

“Thank you! I just kept thinking that the entire time I was reading. Like ugh. To be fair, the way she died was horrific as shit. That’d call anyone to drastic action.”

“See exactly! I..um,” Khalil said and licked his lips.

The class was nearly empty by now. You zipped up your bag and threw the strap over your shoulder. You were nearly bouncing with the desire to get with your vibrator. In a short amount of time, Stunna turned you into a sex fiend. Desperately chasing the high of having him inside you and soaking you with his cum.

You tilted your head at Khalil. If he didn’t spit this shit out, you were going to run him over.

“Is everything okay here?” Stunna asked.

You gasped, feeling caught or exposed. You wondered if your horniness was written plain as day on your face. The way you wanted to climb him in this outfit. You could see his skinny ass ankles and now you very much understood every regency show you watched. That bit of ankle was killing you.

“Yeah, yeah. Just talking about the book. I’ll, uh, see you later,” Khalil stammered and then disappeared so fast, there should have been smoke on his heels.

And now you were alone with Stunna. Dangerous. Dangerous territory.

“He seems nice,” Stunna said with a small smile.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, opting for a tease. You knew it was wrong. You had no reason to doubt the way Stunna felt for you. But being apart from him was killing you. You had no way of knowing if the time apart made him realize how inappropriate this was. If it was better to cancel the 12 week waiting period and move on.

The silent gasp stole all the breath in your lungs. Thinking about not being with him instantly made you dizzy.

“If I was? Would it change anything?” He asked.

“No,” you said, your voice small as you looked at him. This shit sucked. It sucked, it sucked, it sucked. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to throw your arms around him and hug him at least. Damn. You couldn’t even touch him without risk of it leading to rumors.

“I miss you,” he said softly.

“I miss you,” you said.

You stood and stared into each other’s eyes, a mirror of loneliness and wanting.

“You don’t have to be jealous. You know that,” you said.

Stunna ran a hand down his face, looking weary. You hated this. You hated that you couldn’t comfort him. You wanted to hold his hand and walk across the beach again.

“Doesn’t change the fact that I am. That he’d be more appropriate than I would,” he said.

You swallowed around the huge, dry lump in your throat. You didn’t want to call attention to the elephant in the room. You didn’t want to think about the end. Your anxiety leapt off with all the implications of his words.

“Are you…saying that we…” God, you couldn’t even get the words out. Tears were already burning and you were not an easy crier.

“No! Fuck no! Hell no!” He said. He sighed and folded his arms across his chest. There were too many conflicting emotions. You needed your brain and heart to line up. Because while you were sad about a possible ending, you couldn’t help admiring the cut of his arms across his black outfit.

“I bought a calendar to mark off the end of class. You’re mine and I meant that,” he said.

You giggled to cover up how much you were desperate to hear that from him. “Good. Because so did I,” you said.

He laughed but it ended quickly as you went back to sharing and communicating without words. You ached to ask him what he’s been up to, what he’s been reading. You had a lifetime of his to catch up on and you wanted to know every single detail. But you didn’t have that kind of time.

“I should probably…” You said.

“For sure. My bad,” he said. He stood up, letting you pass. You smiled at him and took a few steps, that chain connecting you two growing taut.

“Can you come over tonight? I…miss you so fuckin’ much,” he said.

“I can’t…” You said.

“I know. I’m sorry for asking. That's not fair,” he said. He nodded and avoided looking at you.

You sighed. You needed to walk away. You needed to think about the bigger picture. If you two slipped, even once, it would spell disaster. All it would take is one person overhearing you, one person asking too many questions, one person catching the way you two looked at each other…

Your chemistry was a physical thing. You felt it every time you looked at him or thought about him. You weren’t sure if it was the same for him. If he felt this all consuming urge to run to you and never let you go. You were sure that his feelings were strong. But how strong?

Strong enough to survive a public scandal? He just got here. You refused to be the cause of him losing his job, ending up a national joke, or have this following him around for the rest of his career. He was just getting started. You couldn’t stand in the way of that. You wouldn’t.

Armed with that knowledge, you had just enough self-preservation to leave the room without another word. The shit hurt, like it always did. But then again, you and pain weren’t strangers. You said hello to your old friend, letting the ache wash over you and remind you that this was for Stunna. He would always come first.

“Dammit,” you huffed. You made it one month with no physical contact from Stunna. No text messages or dirty pictures to tide you over either. Just your imagination, horniness, and ole reliable. Until ole reliable stopped working mid sesh.

You clicked the button but the damn thing was gone. Finished. You really needed to get a rechargeable one but you would die trying to plug that thing in somewhere for a few hours. Stella and Angela would never let you live it down.

You tossed it on your bed and tossed on the nearest bottoms, a skirt that covered what it needed to. You went looking through your room for spare batteries. You just needed a little more time. You were soaked with sweat already, feeling like the nasty girl Stunna praised in Punta Cana.

Stunna gave a rare lecture today. Finished with one of the books on the list, he swerved into poetry. He talked about plays as well, Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe. He heard everyone’s groans, thinking Shakespeare was so high school.

But then Stunna had to go on and start reciting some of the words to Romeo and Juliet. He went on about how it really shouldn’t be taught to teenagers. Not because it was too complicated, but because teens needed to do a little growing up to appreciate Shakespeare’s words.

There needed to be a little heartbreak before it sunk in just how much these two wanted to be together but were separated by circumstance. God. He had the entire class melting with that one.

You especially. You felt like he was talking directly to you. The pining, the yearning of Romeo and Juliet. There was a reason that story had endured for hundreds of years. There was a reason he had to be the one to teach it.

“There’s beauty in yearning, isn’t there? Humans love to torture themselves but never more so when it comes to matters of the heart. Unrequited love, loving the wrong person, giving in to things that you know you shouldn’t. Indulging in something so bad but it makes you feel so good. That is why poetry exists. To shine a light on these moments,” he had said and fuck, you wanted to push him down on the desk and suck the soul out of his body.

You couldn’t get out of the classroom fast enough. Too keyed up. Too horny. Burning with the need to jump his bones but unable to do so. And now your vibrator wasn’t working and there wasn’t a damn battery in the fucking dorm.

You searched Angela and Stella’s rooms, not finding a shiny fucking Duracell. Does no one need batteries these days? You longed for the junk drawer at home that was always good for one more battery. It was magic and you missed it.

“Fuck,” you said. You went back to your room, leaning against the doorway. You had a very important executive decision to make. Your next class wasn’t for some time, but you didn’t have that much time. You needed to get off and had a hard time cumming with just your fingers.

You could walk away, but then…why deny yourself that pleasure? You were already denying yourself riding the tilt-a-whirl on Stunna’s dick and you couldn’t handle these thoughts in your head any longer.

It was a miracle you made it a month. You made sure not to linger after class anymore. You were weak. You could feel your resolve crumbling every time Stunna looked at you. Every time he spoke, joked, or engaged a different student in a friendly debate, you felt like stripping down, bending over, grabbing your ankles, and letting him have his wicked way with you. Other people in the room be damned.

Shit. You already answered your own question. If you couldn’t have him, then you needed Little Stunna. Yes, you named your vibrator after your incredibly hot and untouchable teacher and you’d take it to your grave.

You slipped into flip flops, grabbed your keys and wallet, and headed out of the dorm. You had time. You had time. You repeated this to yourself as you left the dorm building and headed across campus towards the bookstore.

It wasn’t the first time you’d gone commando but you felt like everyone could look at you and see what a horny pervert you were. You felt a spotlight burning into your back, broadcasting that you were just neck deep in a fantasy where you were a confused girl lost in the woods and Stunna was a half naked jungle man helping you find your way, with a pit stop on his dick.

Listen, Brandon Fraser pretty much ruined you for all other men until Stunna came along. You watched George of the Jungle one too many times. So much so, you had the campfire song from the movie etched into your memory.

I’ve been waiting for you all my life, hoping for a miracle

I’ve been waiting day and night, day and night

Would there ever be a moment that you didn’t relate absolutely everything back to Stunna? Probably not.

The bookstore was clean and fresh, somehow giving off an incredible Academia aroma that couldn’t be achieved anywhere else. It smelled like learning. Like school spirit.

It was blissfully empty and you made a beeline towards the technology section. You scanned for double A batteries, eyes lingering on other stuff. You debated if you should get another pack now or when you needed it.

You still had three more months to go. “Fuck,” you sighed. Three more months. They might as well tell you that you really were in the tenth circle of hell. You’d believe that an eternity at college, studying the same shit over and over, and staring at your untouchable hot professor was a punishment designed particularly for you.

Fuck it, you’d come back later when you weren’t a delicate mess at the moment. You couldn’t handle one more fucking thing…

You backed into the aisle and into someone solid. “I’m so sorry!” You screamed, turning around and staring up into Stunna’s beautiful face.

“I’m very sorry, I wasn’t looking,” he said. When it clicked that it was you he bumped into, he immediately stepped closer. His warm hands hovered around your arms like he wanted to steady you but knew he couldn’t touch you.

“I’m fine,” you squeaked. You wanted to die. He was the last person you needed to see at the moment. The absolute last.

You still had images of him in nothing but a loincloth fresh in your mind. Surrounded by dozens of animal pelts. You butterball naked and spread open for him. You rubbed your forehead. This shit wasn’t normal.

“You don’t seem fine,” he said, lowering his voice. “What are you picking up?”

You hid the batteries behind your back. You didn’t know if he saw them already, but best to pretend anyway. Pretend that you were here for something innocent and not because you were slutting him out in your fantasies.

“I got a little bored in between classes and thought I might pick up a book,” you said, totally making that shit up on the fly.

“A book,” Stunna repeated.

“Yup, we are in a bookstore,” you said with a nod, to prove your point.

“What kind of book?” He asked. He straightened up, clutching his own book to his chest absently. He smirked. You ought to have seen it for what it was and not encouragement to continue with your obvious lie.

“You know that one…mystery author I love,” you said, waving your hand around.

“Really? What’s their name, maybe I’ve heard of them,” he said.

You looked around for help, but you were at the back of the store. The academic bookshelves were behind him and faced horizontally. You could only see the end caps from where you were and there were no leisure books listed.

Those were all the way at the front of the store. Fuck. “Brain freeze,” you said and shrugged. You were painfully aware that you didn’t have any panties on, likely still had some of your essence between your thighs, and Stunna was right there.

He wore a plain olive green shirt, a cream sweater, and light brown pants. Once more his ankles were exposed, and his huge shoes. He looked damn good.

He checked you out as well, nose flaring at the skirt. He lifted an eyebrow to you. You folded your arms.

“I didn’t think I was going to bump into you. You can’t dictate my clothing choices all the time. I told you to dress like a bum,” you said.

“I gotta stay fly. What are the batteries for?” He asked.

Heat flooded through you, making the bookstore swelter even though air conditioning pumped out of the vents. You looked down at your folded arms and the batteries.

“Remotes. You know, you can’t have too many backups. Those damn things are constantly going out,” you lied again.

Stunna smirked and stepped forward. He towered over the short shelves. “What’s it really for?” He asked. He said your name and it sounded like both a plea and a demand all wrapped into one.

“For something I don’t wanna tell you about,” you said. Your cheeks were burning and your stomach did somersaults. It would win the Olympic gold medal four events in a row if it could.

“Why not?” He asked. He sounded so patient. So demanding. So in control that you couldn’t help the tiny sigh escaping.

“It’s crossing our line,” you said.

“Tell me anyway,” he said.

You couldn’t look at him as you finally said, “My vibrator ran out of juice while I was fucking myself with it,” you said.

The heat of his gaze made your body flush. “You’ve been using a vibrator? For how long?” He asked.

Dangerous, dangerous territory. But you were tired of fighting. Of being good. “Since about the third class,” you said.

He leaned back, running a free hand down his face. “You really thought a vibrator could replace me?” He asked.

“No! That’s why the fucking batteries are shot to hell. I’ve been using it so damn much, I could be a spokeswoman for it,” you furiously whispered.

His eye traveled lower to your skirt and the way that you stood with your legs practically crossed. His eyes continued to move and you were starting to get nervous. What was he seeing? What was he putting together in his head?

“Did you finish?” He asked.

“Stunna…” You warned. You already crossed so many boundaries. You were in public. You were discussing this shit in public, as if you were ready to throw your degree down the tube. Ready to throw his career down the drain before he had a chance to get started.

“Did you finish?” He repeated, a lot slower and a lot lower. It wrecked havoc on your lower body.

“No,” you answered.

“Office. Meet me there in five minutes,” he said.

He brushed past you before you could say anything else. Before you could list the ways in which this was a terrible idea. Your mind helpfully offered all the ways in which this could go wrong. You stood there for a beat too long, staring at the batteries in your hands.

If there was a chance for the real thing…no, no, no, one of you had to be an adult about this. Had to stick firmly to your side of the line and not cross it. But you were tired. Weary. Fighting a mental battle every day as well as a physical one. You needed him. You just plain wanted him.

You still bought the batteries because you weren’t that fucking stupid.

You rushed over to his office, pretending like everything was fine. You were not on the way to do something incredibly dumb and immature. But fuck you needed him inside of you. You needed his hands on your ass. Spread open over his desk, chair, couch, or the floor. Wherever.

You were absolutely an addict for Stunna. You could admit it now that you were on the way to do this. You didn’t know why people continued to lie and say, “It just happened”. No. There was always room for doubt. For second guessing. A moment where you had to stop and use your brain.

You were using your brain. It was just telling you to, “Ride that dick”! In the English building, you took the elevator to the admin floor where teachers had their offices. It seemed empty, most of the offices open with the lights off.

You still drifted until you found his office. He was seated behind his desk, looking pensive. You could leave. He didn’t have to know you were here. It was a momentary lapse. Nothing more.

Before you could back away, Stunna looked up and caught you in the doorway. He stood up, pulling you inside. He checked the hallway before closing the door and locking it.

“Stunna, you know we can’t…especially not in here,” you said. You widened your eyes. Tried to give voice to all the reasons you couldn’t do this.

He didn’t respond. He just crossed the room, grabbed your face, and crashed your lips together.

“I just want to help,” he said. He went back to kissing you, to providing you with the much needed oxygen you had been missing for the past month.

You moaned into the kiss, dropped your keys, wallet, and batteries on his desk and then hugged him to you. You couldn’t stop your hands from roaming, searching, seeking, and re-learning his body all over again. What made him sigh, what made him hiss, what turned him on.

You bit his lip and he gasped, moaning. His tongue played with yours. Your teeth scraped together. You never felt more complete, more whole, than standing here in his arms once more.

The month disappeared in your eyes. You were transported back to that night in his hotel room. Like no time had passed at all. You were back in his apartment, two bodies meeting each other over and over again.

His hands went down to your skirt, but he didn’t push. He toyed with your naked ass, squeezing the globes, and fingers skirting closer and closer to the middle. You shook violently in his arms, dripping with arousal already.

You’d have thought some ancient beast possessed you and made you a vessel of horniness. You just wanted to be filled up. Connected.

Stunna pushed you until your butt hit the desk. You sat down and spread your legs. He spread you even further. He kissed down your neck. “You gotta be quiet,” he whispered.

Yeah, right. He kissed down your neck before dropping to his knees. He flipped your skirt up and looked his fill at your glistening pussy. He gave you a nasty wink before he dived in, licking the seam of your pussy lips before finding your clit.

You arched and gasped on his desk. One of his hands came up around your throat, trapping any sound you would make. He used his other hand to drape your leg over his shoulder, opening you up to where he could get all of you.

He suckled on your clit like a starving man. Slurped and licked every inch of your pussy. He dipped his long tongue into you, shallowly fucking you. You gripped the edge of the desk, immediately feeling like you were going to burst out of your skin.

It only took a few more licks for you to burst completely, cumming on his tongue. You made tinny, airless cries and he had to apply pressure to your throat to keep you from screaming out like you wanted.

You shook and twitched on his desk and he continued eating you out like he wasn’t finished. On the heels of the first, you were plunging right back into a second orgasm. Or maybe this was a delayed continuation of the first. Whichever it was, you were out of breath by the time it ended.

Stunna stood up, wiping his mouth and using his tongue to get the rest off of his lips. He kissed your forehead, leaving a wet spot there that you never wanted to clean. You melted, sighing into him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Fuck, I needed that,” you said. So much better than your vibrator.

“I needed it, too. I’m sorry I crossed our line, but that skirt…hearing you been taking care of yourself…” He bit his lip and you wanted to know what the hell he was thinking.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve been taking care of yourself. I seem to recall some filthy words about a shower?” You asked.

“The shower, the bed, the kitchen, the table. There’s a lot of surfaces in my apartment,” he said.

That only thrilled you. That he had been getting himself off to thoughts of you. “Not the same, huh?” You asked.

“Not at fucking all,” he said with a grin.

“Well…you don’t have anyone coming for office hours?” You asked. You were already here. Already crossed that line. You might as well go for gold.

“Nope,” he said, a wicked smile crossing his face. Perfect man with his perfect teeth. “We should behave though. These walls are thin as hell.”

“I can be quiet if you can,” you said. You hopped off the front of his desk. You grabbed his hand and led him around it to his side. You pushed him into his chair. He lifted one eyebrow at you, a smirk hovering on his lips.

“What you got in mind?” He asked.

You kissed him instead while you freed his dick from his pants. He helped you push them down enough so it wouldn’t interfere. You turned around, wiggling your ass a bit. You looked at him over your shoulder and the look he gave you….rooted you to the spot.

You were both so deeply in love with each other. You just knew, from the crinkle in his eyes, that you were it for him. And he was it for you.

You scooted into his lap, legs on the outside of his. You lifted up, grabbed his thick dick, and then slowly slid yourself down on it. You shared a quiet groan as he slid into place, slid right back home where he belonged.

It wasn’t the best angle for riding, but if you rode him cowgirl, you’d have to stare that love in the face. You acknowledged it, but it was still scary as hell. You used the desk to lift your ass and sit back down on his dick.

Stunna grabbed your waist, helping you along. He cursed softly as he moved you a little faster. You meant to be the one doing most of the work, feeling only slightly guilty that you relied so heavily on his powerful legs to stroke into you.

But he showed no signs that he was on that same wavelength. He only kissed the back of your neck, softly moaning in your ear. Wretched little sounds that drove your pleasure higher.

Your mind sunk into a fuzzy comfort as you quickly rode him. “Perfect, fucking perfect. You’re perfect,” he stuttered in your ear.

Your pussy gripped onto him, sucking in the sheer massive size of him. He was thick, for sure, But he was thick everywhere. From the tip to the base, he had a consistent hardness that felt like you were really getting piped down.

You bobbed on his dick as much as you were able to, both chasing an incredible high. You just needed…a little…

Stunna’s fingers moved forward, gathering up slick, and then played with your clit. His rough fingers flicked that little bundle of nerves until you were shaking and crying. He used his other hand to cover your mouth.

You tried, you really did try to stifle your moans. It was not easy. Not when every part of you wanted to let out a scream to rock the foundation of the building. You wanted to scream for everyone to hear that you were in the throes of a powerful orgasm.

Stunna cursed and then he was joining you, flooding your pussy with his cum. You would never get over the sensation of his hot, pulsing cum shooting out of him. You shivered, pussy clenching around him like it wanted to keep it all inside.

Stunna dropped kisses to your cheek and the back of your neck. “How the hell did we make it a month without this?” He whispered.

“How the hell are we going to make it another?” You asked.

You fell into temptation. You finally made love to him again and fuck. Your fantasies were severely lacking. You needed to ramp them up. You had to build that wall back up between you.

“You saying this becomes a monthly thing? Congrats on a month without sex, here’s some head,” he said.

You laughed softly. “I mean…” You weren’t opposed to the idea. You could hide one encounter. You could keep this off campus, at his place, like a dirty secret in the night. At this point, you had no self-respect. Not when it came to Stunna.

“No, no. We have to be good. This was…”

“Perfect,” he said. You giggled while he nibbled on your ear. Fuck, you missed him. Missed being in his arms, filled up by him.

You wiggled your ass. “Quit playin’,” he said, injecting a level of dangerous warning in his tone.

You wiggled your ass again. You were playing with fire, but hell, the heat never bothered you anyway.

You turned to look at him and give him a saucy wink when a knock sounded on his door. You froze.

Your heart rate jumped to a thousand beats per second, fingers glued to his thigh. Your stomach turned watery, fear unlike you’d ever felt thrumming through your veins. This was it. The moment you got caught.

You’d look back at this moment as The Moment. The Moment when your life came crashing down. You were literally caught with your teacher’s dick inside you. There was no way this wouldn’t be in the news cycle this very evening.

You could picture the jokes. Getting Extra Credit. Oh, is that what the kids were calling it these days? A little Hot for Teacher.

Stunna’s hands went back to your waist, squeezing slightly. You looked back at him. His eyes were wide but he looked calmer than you did. He lifted a finger to his lips and you nodded.

The knock sounded again, and then again before the silhouette in front of his door went away. Neither of you said a word for five minutes straight.

Stunna was the first to blow a breath. “I think we’re okay,” he said.

You scrambled off of him, removing his softened dick, and then went around the desk. You needed a physical barrier between you at the moment.

“I’m sorry–” You lifted a hand, cutting him off.

“I’m not mad, I-I’m really fucking scared,” you said.

“I know, I’d never put you through this…”

“I’m scared for you, you idiot. If they catch us, you could kiss working here goodbye. You just fucking got here,” you said. Unfortunately, there were no panties to indignantly pull up.

You were still a bit wet with his cum dripping out. But now you were full of dread and worst case scenarios.

“Me? Whoa, whoa, don’t worry about me,” Stunna said.

“How could I not? I–” It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him you loved him, but you weren’t ready for that. Wasn’t sure when you would be. It was scary to love him after a short period, to look at him and know that he was your soulmate. You knew he felt similarly, but soulmate? Would that freak him out?

Stunna stood up, stuffing his dick back in his pants. He fixed himself and came around the desk, invading your personal space.

“I’m the one that dragged you here. I’m in the wrong. And if this were to get out, don’t you ever try to protect me,” he said.

“You get to protect me but I can’t protect you?” You asked.

“No, that’s not the way this works. You protect yourself, always. I’ll protect you,” he said.

You laughed bitterly. “You’re so full of shit. You think I’m gonna stand there and let you take all the blame?” You asked.

“Yes, that’s exactly what you need to do,” he said.

You scoffed. You grabbed your things off of his desk. “Fuck you, Stunna. I’ll be damned if you fall on the sword for me. I’m an adult. I can make up my own mind,” you said.

“Don’t you get it? I can’t live with myself if I fucked up your degree,” Stunna said.

“And I can’t live with myself knowing I fucked off your job,” you said quickly. “This isn’t a game, Stunna. This is your life.”

“You are my life,” he whispered.

You reared back as if he’d yelled at you. He stepped forward, cradling your head in his hands.

“I know it’s sudden. I know it hasn’t been a lot of time. I know I’m probably scaring you. I just need you to be okay. I’ve been able to hold it together this past month because I know that in a few months, I’ll have my life back. But not if I jeopardize this for you,” he said.

“Then how do you think I feel? How could you think that I don’t feel the exact same way?” You asked.

Stunna kissed you softly, like you had all the time in the world to do so. You didn’t know how long he kissed you for, only that you felt loved and cherished the longer his lips were on yours.

“We’re just two idiots in love then,” Stunna said.

You smiled at him, all the wonderful, gooey feelings tangled in your gut.

“Two idiots in love.”

Need more Stunna? The Secret Big Stunna Files

Part 1 | Part 2

155 notes · View notes

sunflowersandsapphires · 7 months ago

Text

A Brewing Storm

In All The World, Chapter 1.2

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: This series of one-shots follows Matt and the music teacher he is steadily falling for, despite her distant familial connection to The Punisher.

warnings: angsty Matthew, Matt and Frank being little shits (mostly Frank), fluff, hints at smut

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: I KNOW THIS DIDN’T WIN THE POLL BUT I WASN’T ABLE TO FINISH THE OTHER FICLET, I’M SORRY! I hope this is a decent consolation prize for you all. The comfort piece should be done by next week!

There are a few things mentioned in this chapter that I won’t go into unless people are interested but here’s the rundown: Matt and Reader started their relationship after her testimony, though the trial had not yet ended. The ABA code of ethics doesn’t really have much to say about attorneys and witnesses, but the general rule is after they’ve testified (as long as the trial isn’t discussed) they can begin a personal relationship. The ethics rules are much more concerned about lawyers and their clients than witnesses. However, Matt asked her out during proceedings so, in his head, he did something wrong. I wasn’t planning on writing their beginning, but if that’s something you all are interested in, let me know!

Trusting the men to keep their word, you left Frank standing over the door mat while you grabbed some bath towels and a jacket he'd forgotten on your couch months ago. Returning to a room frigid with their disdain for each other, you stifled an eye roll while you passed over the items in your hold. “Here. Dry off if you can. Are you hungry? I can set another place for dinner.”

Matt stiffened from his seat at the table, blowing an annoyed breath out of his nose. Smirking in satisfaction, Frank rubbed the towel over his hair, splattering your floor with leftover rain. “Sure, kid.”

Pretending not to see your boyfriend's twisted frown, you padded over to the stove to scoop the remaining noodles into a clean bowl.

“Ok, it's not much, but I wasn't planning on cooking for three–”

“How long?” Came Frank's curt question.

Running the tip of your tongue against your molars, you blew out a breath, shoving Frank's food over to him.

“Um...”

“Eight months.” Matt answered, chest puffing out ever so slightly. Swatting at him with a glare, you grimaced as Frank gnashed his teeth again.

“For fuck's sake. During the trial?”

“Well, that is how we met.” Matt snapped back, posture rounding as the Devil slipped back into control.

“And you thought what, Red? That you could treat my case like your own personal dating pool? You of all people know how dangerous that was for her.”

“I think we are all familiar with the risks taken last summer.” You retorted, taking your seat at Matt's side, letting your knee brush against his in what you hoped was a grounding touch.

What Frank was insinuating wasn't far fetched. You had run into trouble after coming forward as a character witness, but your relationship with Matt hadn't caused that, your role in the trial had. No matter how much guilt he carried over the incident, your boyfriend was in no way responsible for the actions of the Kitchen Irish. Matt regularly got stuck in his head, castigating himself for giving in to temptation. Despite making it ostentatiously clear that you were interested in him from the moment you met, your self-conscious partner was convinced he’d somehow violated an unwritten code of ethics and manipulated you into going out with him. It had taken months of promises before Matt began to believe that your consent had been honest and voluntary the whole time–his fragile acceptance would surely combust if Frank continued to cast more doubt over the dubious start of your relationship. He didn’t need anyone’s help to make him feel like a monster.

Matt nudged your knee with his in response to your touch, though his expression was stony. You could see his walls going up brick by brick, his confidence waning as someone confirmed his worst fears.

“Are 'we'? Cause I, for one, ain’t dyin’ for you to be bleedin’ out in my bathroom again.” Frank hissed, eyes still locked on Matt as he referenced your previous injuries. “You think she's safe with you? You can’t protect her. Fuck's sake, Red–you're covered in blood at her table right now. She doesn't need to be dragged into your bullshit–”

“Enough.” You snarled, cutting Frank off. Inhaling deeply, you lowered your voice and softened your tone. “Matt, can you give us a minute, love?”

Ignoring Frank's sneer at the pet name, you placed a hand over Matt's knee, rubbing circles into it with your thumb. “Can you wait for me in my room? I'll be right in.”

“I can just go home,” Matt shifted uncomfortably, looking defeated and agonized as he slowly clambered to his feet.

“I’ll only be a minute, love. Don't leave yet please.” You squeezed his hand where it hung limp by his side, hoping that his barely noticeable nod was conveying his true intentions.

You set your jaw, watching Matt stalk into the bedroom before whirling towards Frank who was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, looking all too pleased with himself. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Frank?”

“There ain’t nothin’—”

“Nope, it's not your turn yet.” You bit out, cutting him off. “I'm not unhappy to see you, because it means you're still breathing, but you have some damn nerve coming into my house and speaking to my boyfriend as if I'm not in the room. I am not an object, nor am I anyone’s property. You do not get to dictate what is or isn't good for me, regardless of how you feel about it.“

Frank winced slightly, but he didn’t make any other indication that your words were getting through his thick skull.

Sitting back in your seat, you clasped your hands in your lap. “I appreciate you looking out for me, Frank. Lord knows you've saved my life more times than I can count, but Matt is good for me. Your views on our start and on him as a person won't change that.“

Frank scoffed, rolling his eyes to the popcorn ceiling. You grit your teeth. “Alright, if you want to be pissed, that's your prerogative. I'm sorry you didn't find out about us directly from me, but I refuse to accept full responsibility for that because you haven't responded to me for months. You don't get to just pop back into my life when it's most convenient for you.”

The towering man didn’t respond. Fine. If he wasn't in a headspace to hear what you had to say, then you were done talking. Stretching over to a nearby cabinet you pulled out a tupperware and tossed it to him. He caught it without glancing up.

“Have a good night, Frank. Text me if you ever decide you want to listen. And take that food home with you or I will be obligated to hunt you down.”

Using the seat of your chair to leverage your weight, you stood up and paced away from Frank, crossing your fingers that Matt was still in the bedroom when you reached it.

Matt’s hearing was powerful enough to register conversations a block away, let alone one room over, so ignoring the voices beyond your bedroom walls should’ve been difficult. However, Frank’s implications had worn him down, rehashing a mess of anxiety and spurning his feelings of unworthiness. If you hadn’t asked him to stay, he would’ve gone back out to find a distraction lurking in the city streets before passing out on any surface in his apartment. Instead, he lay in your bed, coiled in a ball beneath the sheets, drained of energy–feeling small and useless.

Frank apparently didn’t have much more to say because it was only minutes before he heard you approaching the closed door obscuring him. Your footfalls were light, as always. You did whatever you could to make his existence easier. It was one of the many reasons he loved you.

Your heartbeat grew stronger as you entered, leaving the door open only briefly in an effort to preserve the hideout Matt had taken shelter in. Gently crouching until you were seated on the mattress, you curled your body around Matt’s–shielding him from the abundance of sensory input and surrounding him with the subtle scent of your body wash. It was warm and sweet, comforting like the brief whiff of sugar you smell when walking past a bakery. A stark contrast to the harsh remnants of gunpowder and leather drifting in from Frank’s now abandoned seat.

“How much of that did you hear?” You asked, tracing over his prickly cheek with a finger.

“Bits and pieces.” Matt exhaled roughly. “Did you want me not to listen?”

“Sweetheart, I would never ask that of you. That’s not really something you can control when we’re twenty feet away.” Turning his head into your touch, Matt placed a gentle kiss on the pad of your finger. You took a moment to study him, heart clenching at the weary expression on his face. His posture was tight, you could tell he was holding back. “C’mere, lovely.”

At your prompting, Matt’s blank face twitched, his sorrow peeking through as he shifted on the mattress.

“I’m sorry I let him in.” You murmured, threading your fingers into Matt’s hair as he wriggled until his face was squished into your stomach. “I should’ve forced him to calm down, or take it out on me. It wasn’t fair to subject you to that.”

“I’m a big boy. I can handle it.” Matt chuckled breathily, the sound coming out choked with emotion.

“I know, handsome. But that doesn’t mean you deserve to be screamed at over a misunderstanding.” Sliding down until Matt was resting against your chest, you tucked his head under your chin, wrapping him in an embrace. He hummed against you, not trusting himself to speak on the matter.

“Matty, you do know that what he said was complete and utter horseshit, right?” Your blunt question made him snort, the noise muffled against your collarbone. “No, I’m serious. He was mad that we caught him off guard, so he said that crap to get under your skin. Classic Frank tactic. He did the same shit when we were kids.”

“Did he really?” Came Matt's amused question.

“Oh yah. He’s damn good at it too. The day I knocked him off the Dig Dug leaderboard at our local arcade, he told me I was adopted. My parents were FURIOUS to hear he’d let that cat out of the bag.” You laughed, your nose crinkling as you pictured Frank hanging his head on your family’s tattered leather couch as he got chewed out by your dad.

Matt made a mournful noise, pressing impossibly closer. Rubbing his shoulders with a flat hand, you kissed his crown. “But, the next week, he took me back to the arcade so I could show him how I did it. And when the dude running the candy counter made a sexist comment about how I shouldn’t even be there, Frank forced him to apologize.”

“What’d he do? Shoot him?” Matt asked dryly.

“Just a stern talking to. With his fists.” You joked, pinching Matt’s waist. His lips tickled your skin as he smiled.

“Moral of the story is: Frank speaks without thinking sometimes, just like the rest of us. And he tends to be protective of the people he cares about, myself included.” Sliding your hand beneath Matt’s shirt, you cradled his waist tenderly, drawing delicate patterns with your thumb. “You have that in common.”

“A talent for lashing out?” Matt quipped.

Ignoring his attempt to deflect, you continued. “You want to protect me.”

“Apparently, I’m not as good at it as I thought.” Matt remarked icily.

“Yes. You are.” You poked him, tone stern. “You protect me and the rest of Hell’s Kitchen every day, regardless of what Frank thinks. You are an amazing man and a wonderful partner, and I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything, love.”

“I love you.” Matt whispered reverently, feeling his insecurities beginning to subside. You always had that effect on him. Your melodic voice and persistently kind nature acting as a life preserver when his own mind seemed determined to drown him.

“And I love you, Matty. All of you. Always.” Cupping his chin with one hand, you drew him towards your face, pecking his lips lightly. “Why don’t I help you change out of your suit so we can shower? If I’m tired, I know you’ve gotta be wiped out.”

Smirking, Matt cocked his head at you—his confidence finally reappearing after the disaster of a night you’d had. “Are you trying to get me naked, sweetheart?”

“Desperately.” You muttered, trailing a finger over the waistband of his pants. “I have not seen nearly enough of you today.”

“It must be so difficult for you,” He lamented, flopping flat on the mattress with a sigh. “Not seeing your partner.”

Snorting out a laugh, you shoved his chest playfully. “Both of us know that is not what I meant.”

He chuckled, fingers of his left hand loosening the knot of rope around his other wrist.

“Let me,” You suggested, cradling Matt’s dominant hand with both of your own, rotating it and unwinding the cord with a gentle tug. As the dirt and blood stained material fell from Matt's arm, it revealed a crisscross pattern of reddened indents in his skin—angry from being bound by the woven line for so long. Tutting in sympathy, you bent forward, kissing the marks gently before releasing your hold.

Without speaking, you tangled your fingers around his other arm, inching one finger beneath the rope, repeating the motions until he was free of them. Trailing another line of kisses down his arm towards his palm, you smiled triumphantly.

With two fingers, you pried the hem of his shirt away from his sweaty abdomen. ”May I?”

Matt nodded, a lopsided smile hanging on his lips as he arched his back off the mattress to allow you to remove his top. Rolling the fabric up and over his head, you dragged your nails up his spine, grinning at the soft whine you got in response.

“Feel good, Matty?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the sound dissipated into a moan when you licked a stripe over his pulse point.

“How about I mark you up this time, hm? Take care of you first for once?”

Matt rumbled beneath your lips with a small moan, his head falling back as he arched off the mattress.

Giggling, you dragged your teeth over the pulsing vein in his neck, provoking a soft mewl in the back of Matt’s throat. “C’mon, sweet boy. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Leaping from the bed, Matt flew after you, snatching you by the waist and locking your lips together as you clumsily stumbled toward the bathroom.

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @abucketofweird @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou

92 notes · View notes

oh-sofarfromhome · 2 years ago

Text

Watch Your Mouth

CEO Harry

summary: an employee makes an rude comment to YN, not knowing who she is

warning: swearing, implied smut

—

YN steps into the conference room with her head held high, confidence radiating from her despite her fashionably late entrance. The sound of her red bottoms clicking against the marbled floor draws everyone’s attention to her, jaws dropping and eyes shamelessly trailing down her body and then back up to her face, in awe of her beauty.

Harry’s usually permanent scowl drops from his face and is replaced with a look of fondness for his wife, kicking the man beside him out of the seat to free up space for her to sit.

The man who he kicked out, Jason, was livid as he found another seat, far away from the CEO. He’d planned to suck up to him the entire meeting, but it’s kind of hard to do so from the other side of the room. He’s a new employee that’s only just started a few weeks ago, not having met YN yet.

As soon as she’s seated comfortably, Harry resumes the meeting, going over the company’s numbers for the quarter as well as discussing bonuses and answering questions for those who have them.

“This quarter’s numbers were down 7.4% compared to the last, so I’m sure you can see where my anger stems from,” he states angrily, his voice booming throughout the silent room, the air thick with tension.

Everyone looks at him silently, except for one person, his wife. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’d also like to add that, compared to last year, we are nearly double where we were, but given the time of year, it is not uncommon for our numbers to trend downward. I do believe that if we maximize all of our income for the next three weeks or so, we should be able to match last quarter, maybe even exceed,”

Harry goes on to agree with her when he hears a scoff from the other side of the room. He looks over to see Jason with an irritated look on his face, but before he can address him he’s speaking.

“Dumb bitch,” Jason mumbles, but in the silence of the room, every single person in the room whips their head to him, eyebrows raised at their oblivious new coworker. All of the employees are holding their breath, awaiting the storm that is bound to come.

“Is there something you’d like to share with all of us, Mr. Hall?” YN’s authoritative voice booms throughout the room before Harry has the chance.

“Yes, I do actually,” he states,

“You’re just a woman anyway, what do you know? I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t even get through college on your own, wouldn’t be surprised if you used your body to get to the top,” he finishes, gasps ringing through the room.

“Jason Hall, your very new contract has now been terminated,” Harry grits out, trying to calm his anger. When Jason’s face fall and he questions why, he is quick to explain.

“I do not tolerate discrimination in my workplace, nor do I tolerate disrespect toward authority figures. You have been here a short time, Jason, but that time is up. Human Resources is located on the 12th floor, I suggest you stop there on your way out,” he hisses, watching Jason’s face crumple as he realizes what he’s done.

“Anything else you’d like to add, Mrs. Styles?” Harry questions, turning to his wife before cutting his eyes back to Jason to see his reaction. He chuckles quietly when he watches the color drain from his face and he starts stuttering out excuses.

“Mr. Hall, I advise you to learn from your mistakes, and learn from them quickly with how difficult it will be to find a job once word of this interaction gets out. Quite frankly, you do not know who you just fucked with. I have connections in every state in this country, and nearly every country in the world. I hope you have a fantastic time learning how to cook at the Burger King down the road. Meeting dismissed,” she replies, her tone firm and unforgiving.

Everyone files out of the room, laughing under their breath at the look on their ex coworker’s face. When everyone is gone, she finally turns back to Harry, a laugh of disbelief leaving her lips as she takes in his blown pupils and heavy breathing, her eyes trailing down to his crotch to see an unmistakable bulge there.

“Really, Haz? I’ve just chewed out one of your employees and you’re turned on right now?” she laughs, the sound being cut off by a desperate kiss being pressed to her lips.

“You’re just so undeniably sexy when you take control. A stark contrast to when we’re at home and I eat you out until you’re crying an-,” he’s cut off by her hand being placed over his mouth.

“Shut up and get on your knees,” she demands, and he’s quick to comply, letting her take control of him as well.

—

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #ceo harry #ceo harry x reader #ceo!harry #ceo!harry x reader #ceo au #ceo!au #ceo harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles filth #fic rec #harry styles x reader

944 notes · View notes

yuna542 · 2 years ago

Text

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 6<-

Part 7

Pairing: OT8 x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Swearing, mentions of harassment!, protective Chan & Seungmin, Mentions of sex, jealousy

Word Count: 3.4k

Note: So this Part got so long that i had to split it in two. Hope you like it. I changed the dorm situation a bit, to have them all together. Believe me that is going to be important for the story;) The next Part will maintain big Chan Smut. Stay tuned.

Also I’m really sorry that I have to close the Taglist Thank you for the support! You‘re insane!)

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

As fast as you can, you get an Uber and drove directly to the dorm of the guys. After only a few minutes of driving, you're already standing in front of the front door. Nervously, you step from one foot to the other as Changbin opened the door. He was wearing only boxers and a shirt over his shoulders.

Completely surprised by the sudden sight of his freaking hot body, you just stared with your mouth open.

He was leaning against the door frame with one arm above your head so that his biceps was tensed, and he had a toothbrush between his pink lips. Apparently he was getting ready for the day at the studio and smelled like a delicious mixture of soft and dark scents that twisted your brain.

You noticed that his biceps seemed to be twice as big as your head and his entire torso tempted you to just lick it, so seductively was he built. His fluffy hair was still messy and he looked at you just as surprised.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

He stared at your figure under the dress and then back into your eyes. You swallowed hard, trying to break free of the naughty scenarios that assaulted you at the mere sight of him.

"Hey, Bin. I need to go see Chan and discuss the meeting."

Apparently he knew what you were talking about, because he nodded and took the toothbrush out of his mouth.

"I think he got here a few minutes ago. Come on in. But don't be shocked. It's pure chaos."

He held the door open for you and you stepped into the hallway, where there were already quite a few pairs of shoes standing around. Most of them you knew from the boys.

"How bad can it be? You guys just moved."

Changbin closed the door and led you into the living room.

"It's pretty bad. Believe me."

"I spend most of my time in a studio with 3Racha. I guess I'm used to it", you smirked, looking around the apartment curiously.

"That's true."

Indeed, there was chaos in every corner of the house. But that was probably still due to the move. The kids moved from the small dorm to a larger one a week ago, where they each finally had their own room. The fact that the eight of them still lived under one roof and didn't want to be alone was really sweet.

There were still unpacked boxes everywhere, used plates and bowls on the living room table, a lot of clothes, dumbbells, and even studio equipment lying around. That's when Seungmin also entered the living room and greeted you.

"Hey, Minnie. Are you ready for the meeting?", you asked and he leaned up against the back of the sofa.

"Sure. Do you need anything?"

"Yeah. I need to talk to Chan first."

Seungmin nodded, and just like Changbin, his gaze wandered along your curves. The dress had apparently been a great success till now. Suddenly, two hands grabbed you by the waist from behind and pulled you into a tight hug.

Startled, you squeaked, but when you heard Han's hearty laugh behind you, you groaned loudly.

"Surprise! It's just me. Your favorite rapper", he chirped and pulled you even tighter against him, so that your back was pressed against his chest and you could look up at him.

"Don't tell lies!", shouted Changbin.

"We all know who her favourite rapper is."

He sounded confident and grinned until Seungmin snorted.

"Don't act like that. I rap better than both of you put together."

"In your dreams Minnie", Han shot back, squeezing your hip and pressing your hips against him. The fabric of his jeans rubbing against your butt and his spicy cologne distracted you from the conversation.

He was probably unintentionally grinding your ass so hard against his middle that you could feel literally everything of him. He rested his chin in the crook of your neck and sucked in your scent deeply.

"You smell so good", he murmured against your ear, and it gave you goosebumps. His hands were wrapped tightly around your belly and the contact with the hard fabric of his pants made your dress slide up more and more.

"Jisung let go of her! She's here to talk to Chan, not to be groped by your horny ass!“, shouted Seungmin then and Jisung pouted, while Changbin giggled mockingly.

"Oh yeah? I thought you were here for me, pretty."

You had to smirk and padded him on the cheek with your hand.

"I'm always glad to see you, Ji."

That seemed to satisfy him and he let go of you, but not without looking at your ass, which was peeking out from under the now slid up dress, as was your white thong.

"Where's Chan?", you now asked around the room, and Seungmin nodded towards the long hallway where the boys' rooms seemed to be.

"He should be in his room. The third door on the right."

"Thanks."

Quickly, you tugged your dress back into place and followed Seungmin's description. First you knocked on the door, but when no one opened you pushed down the handle and entered.

Soft music was playing in the background and the big bed immediately caught your eye. Probably he had not heard you because of the music.

—

Meanwhile, Han looked at Seungmin shaking his head.

"You knew Chan had just taken a shower..."

Changbin laughed out loud and looked at the two of them with wide eyes. An evil grin formed on Seungmin's lips.

"Chan's always running around here naked... Maybe that's how he'll learn to put on some clothes", he said, and Han chuckled.

—-

Right at that moment, you stared at the broad shoulders of Chan, who was standing in front of his closet with his back to you. However, he was completely naked and to make matters worse, you couldn't get a word out.

Completely caught up in the sight, you didn't even dare to breathe.

The muscles on his back tightened and he had wet hair. It smelled like hot steam and shampoo in the room. He looked like a greek god with that wide back and beautiful glossy skin.

Just as he turned to face you, a surprised squeak escaped you and he heard it just in time to grab the towel on his bed with huge eyes and hold it in front of his privates.

"Fuck! What the hell?", he gasped with his slick aussie accent and his face flashed immediately red, like a traffic light. He looked even hotter from the front. His abs were defined and his skin still shone wetly. With only the towel in front of his middle, he stared at you as perplexed as you stared at him.

Except you couldn’t take your eyes off his abs and the defined V-lines that, to your disappointment, disappeared behind the towel.

"What are you doing here?", he asked.

Irritated, you dig out your phone out of your bag and waved it in the air.

"I texted you that I was coming over now. The guys said I could just come in", you stuttered and tried to look somewhere else, but his freaking mesmerising body attracted your eyes like a magnet.

When you mentioned his roommates, he sighed loudly.

"That explains it."

You didn't know what to say or what to do, which is why you just stood there.

"As much as I enjoy the look on your face and mostly the view, I should get dressed", he said then and immediately you felt embarrassed.

You mutter a quick: "Sorry."

And turned around. As you did, your whole head glowed and you bite your lip in embarrassment.

"You could also take off your clothes, then we'd be even", he suddenly said and you raised your eyebrows in surprise as you turned back to him.

By now he had on a pair of jeans and was buttoning up a black shirt that sat tight to his shoulders and made him look like a model. He glared at you with an amused grin and you were just glad he wasn't mad. He left the top buttons undone and stepped towards you. You had to put your head back to look up at him.

„But that will have to wait until later.“

You had no idea what he was up to but judging by his smile, it wasn't anything innocent he was thinking about.

"You look beautiful today, by the way", he murmured as he took your hands and planted a kiss on your knuckles. Instantly something fluttered in your chest and you brushed a strand of hair out of your forehead to stop yourself from touching his chest.

He took your hand and led you out of his room into the living room, where the others waited anxiously, trying with all their might to suppress their laughter.

"You are all idiots!", he snapped at them, but there was a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m just trying to help”, Seungmin grinned and enjoyed the shy look and the rosy cheeks on your face. Chan shook his head and glared at him for a moment, before he turned back to you.

"Let's briefly discuss the finished concept for the video, and then we'll be on our way."

He was fully back to professional.

That was your cue. You started pulling out the notes on your phone and so you went over everything together again, correcting mistakes and putting the finishing touches on it before you were picked up by the driver.

In the car, Seungmin put an arm around you and took your nervous hand that you tapped incessantly against your leg into his own. With the other hand he massaged your neck lightly.

"You don't have to be nervous. Just be yourself and if you get unsure, we'll still be there to help you", he whispered near your ear.

It was only a few minutes drive to the sponsor's company site, but it seemed like an eternity. Gratefully, you leaned against Seungmin and nodded. His touch was comforting, and with the two of them by your side, you immediately felt much more confident.

You didn't have to wait long in the entrance hall and were led directly through the huge building by a pretty girl with long black hair. The company was at least twice as big as the JYP building and there were employees hurrying everywhere through the corridors. However, most of them were women, barely older than yourself, which was a bit strange.

The girl introduced herself as Ji-u and her eyes immediately sparkled when she saw Chan and Seungmin. It was annoying how she adored the boys with her beautiful smile and dark eyes.

But the two of them didn't even seem to take notice of it or they skillfully ignored it.

You had fast learned, that the boys just had this influence on people and especially on women.

While Ji-u led you through the building, she tried to start a conversation with Seungmin, but he only answered in one word, so she finally turned to Chan. Polite as he was, he chatted with her and every time he made her laugh or gave her a charming smile, something in your chest tightened. The pretty girl was already getting on your nerves in no time, as she completely ignored you in addition.

Arriving in front of the office, she knocked and briefly went inside to announce your presence.

Gradually you started to feel sick. Everything was so tense and professional here, and you had only been manager for a few months. The importance of this sponsor to JYP and more importantly to Stray Kids was huge and you were going to give everything you had to make this work.

"She likes you”, you remarked, and Chan looked at you with an amused smile.

"She's nice", he answered with a shrug.

You shook your head with a snort and turned back to your Ipad and the keynote you had prepared for the talk to introduce Mr. Jang to JYP and Stray Kids. Likewise, you wanted to introduce the concepts for the music video to maybe get him to invest in other projects as a sponsor as well.

"Yea, 'Nice'... I'm sure she's not just trying to be 'nice' to you", you muttered, not lifting your eyes from the Ipad.

Your annoyed tone made Chan raise his eyebrows and he exchanged an amused look with Seungmin.

"Are you jealous, Y/N?", came from Seungmin then and your gaze shot up and inevitably met Chan's curious face. Immediately you felt caught and you quickly shook your head.

"No. Why should I? You can do whatever you want with whomever you want."

There was your gaze fixed on your screen again. The blush rose in your cheeks and you couldn't bear Chan's knowing expression and Seungmin's piercing eyes.

"She's pretty. Why don't you ask her for her number?", you then said to dispel the awkward silence and to proof your point.

Even though the sentence was painful just to say it, you put on a carefree smile and looked Chan straight in the eye. But he only grinned wider and wider and took two big steps towards you.

"Why should I? I'd much rather look at your pretty face."

The sudden change in his tone of voice, made you freeze and as you just looked up at him with wide eyes, he took your face in his hands and cupped your cheeks. His lips hovered close to yours and there was such softness in his eyes that you melted in his touch.

“What else should i want when i can look at that sexy body and those seductive eyes every day?”

His raspy voice almost made you gaps and now you wanted to sink to your knees for that man. Then the door opened and Ji-u stood before you again.

Whatever she wanted to say didn't come out and she just stared at Chan's hands holding your face close to his. Then she cleared her throat and Chan pulled back again, looking at her with a questioning smile.

"You can come in now. Mr. Jang is waiting for you."

With that, she gave Chan one last disappointed look and disappeared into the next corridor. A feeling of satisfaction spread through you. Chan escorted you into the room with one hand on your back and Seungmin stood to your right.

The first thing you noticed was the huge window front through which you could look over the whole city. In the center of the room was a massive desk that looked intimidating compared to the chairs in front of it.

Sitting at the desk was Mr. Jang, who stood up to greet you. He was an older man, in his mid-50s, wearing a suit that probably costed more than your apartment.

He had short hair, a serious face, and ice-cold eyes that were right on you as you walked in. Then he turned to Chan and Seungmin, bowed and greeted them.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Bang, Mr. Kim. It's nice to finally meet you."

The two also greeted him and put on their most charming smiles.

But he hardly paid any attention to you. You watched in amazement as he offered the two of them a seat. Seungmin looked at you in confusion for a moment as Mr. Jang addressed you for the first time with a disgusting toothpaste smile.

"Darling, be so kind and get me a coffee!"

Completely perplexed, you followed his gaze and discovered the coffee machine standing right behind him. He would just have to take a step back.

"I think you can do that yourself! The coffee machine is right behind you", Seungmin said then and you could see Chan kicking his leg under the table.

But Mr. Jang just laughed.

"That's very true. I like your direct manner, buddy."

Not wanting to stand around the room any more awkward, you just put on a friendly smile and walked over to the machine.

"That's not a problem. I'm happy to do it."

With a few moves, the machine started making the coffee and that's when you heard Mr. Jang ask behind you:

"Can I offer you something too? A coffee or something else?"

Chan declined with thanks. You seemed to be invisible.

"We've already had a big breakfast today. But thank you for your effort!"

A direct lie. Chan never ate breakfast before meetings and Seungmin also often passed up a meal before important events.

Seungmin also declined and both boys began to get restless as Mr. Jang unashamedly looked at your body from behind as you stood by the coffee machine. His lustful look immediately made Seungmin sit up in his chair and Chan tensed his fists on the table.

With that, Mr. Jang seemed satisfied and when the cup was full, you went back over to the desk to set it down in front of the businessman.

"Thank you, sweetie", he said, and the look down your cleavage was equally not inconspicuous. But you ignored it, after all, you had to please him today to get the sponsorship. So close to him you smelled the expensive perfume burning your nose and saw that his fingers were overflowing with swanky rings.

"When is your manager coming?", he asked then, and the silence that followed was stifling. Chan only had his eyebrows drawn together and Seungmin's expression grew colder.

"I'm the personal manager of Stray Kids", you said with a put-on smile and he looked at you as if you had cracked a joke. When no one laughed, he looked to the boys and then back to you.

"You? Really? A girl? Aren't you a little... young?"

That explained his disgusting behavior. He had thought you were one of his little maids. However, he didn't seem to have too much respect for women in general. His eyes now roamed over your body and immediately you felt uncomfortable in your skin.

"She is the best at her job and therefore very well suited. We couldn't have gotten a better manager", Chan replied, pulling back the chair next to him so you could sit down.

Although he smiled and seemed friendly, you could see the anger just by the burn in his eyes and his jaw tightening as soon as Mr. Jang even looked your way. The rich producer was obviously a huge asshole and extremely horny.

As soon as you sat between the guys, you could feel Seungmin's hand resting on your thigh under the table. It seemed almost possessive and he was less adept at hiding his anger than Chan.

"You guys are really lucky with your employees then... I see why you hired her. But if you ever need a job, just come to me!“

You returned his tacky smile, but would have preferred to throw up.

"We're actually here today to talk about our comeback with you", Chan said, and you were incredibly grateful to him for changing the subject.

But eventually you managed to introduce the concept and explained all the important information to him. He listened attentively, asked questions, even though his interest was most of the time on your boobs. Every intrusive look from him became more uncomfortable and you became more and more angry.

Keeping a friendly face despite everything became increasingly difficult. But after what felt like an eternity, you finally came to an agreement and Mr. Jang announced that he would take over the music video project completely and would also be interested in future projects.

Even though this made you breathe a sigh of relief and it was a huge success, you felt terrible. Being treated so superficial by a man and at the same time not being able to do anything about it drove you crazy. You thought of the other young women who worked for him and probably had to endure this every day.

"I think we've settled everything for today. My secretary will mail you everything important, I will talk with my producer team and then we can start shooting the video and the teaser in the next weeks", he announced, standing up.

You all followed his lead and you noticed how Seungmin and Chan's tension dropped. You exchanged triumphant looks and Chan discreetly stroked your lower back with his hand, which gave you back a lot of strength.

The tension during the conversation had been noticeable. Seungmin had gritted his teeth so hard that you feared he would soon punch that disgusting snob straight in the face. He hadn't taken his hand off your thigh for a second, and you could feel the anger boiling inside Chan, too.

"Thank you! It's an honor to work with you", you said, squeezing out another sweet smile.

The corners of your mouth were already hurting, so much you had to force yourself not to just scream out loud.

"I'm thinking of becoming a permanent partner and sponsor of JYP. Maybe we can discuss more details over a coffee?"

This question was addressed directly to you and you could feel the air in the room drop several degrees. At that, he put a hand to your hip and pressed his business card into your hand. You had to suppress a wince when he touched you and Seungmin gave Chan an alarming look. However, he just stared at the sponsor's hand and would have loved to rip it right off.

->Part 8

——————————————————————-

Taglist (closed):

@poisonivy21 @elizalabs3 @chartrucewhore @smutlemononeshot @froggiiimushroom @hgema @bookwyrm28 @gemini-demon @jeongchaos @nxahlxl @jihanlovic @comingupwithacoolnameishard @sassysausage2023 @marked-unknown @yuhjoeyuh @bakedlilgoonie @thatgirlangelb @itstorimf @toomuchtellyneck @hanjiseoul @bandolls @queenyal @ashkeyboo72898 @ana-stasssiaaa @bossy-baby-jongho @galaxypox @n034sy @manns4005 @amara-mars @purple-belle @amararosesblog @tori719 @rindomo @freakinthesheets-excelexcel @sujurunaway @slay36queen @strawberry31 @niaalove @crazyllamasurfer @luunaruwu @jenseok17 @mariegalea @kimseungminsprincess @julciaqwerty @officialshania @whore4stucky9104 @foxinnie8 @i-dont-know-me-either @sirenthalia @uno7 @jeonnginns @mixling-blog @httpsmultifandom @spookysins @hyunlixwife @eastleighsblog @tuttifrutt01 @tzalethhwang @queenofdragons12 @elieli0001 @fixation-dump @midsoulz @emmxxsworld @scarletrosesposts

630 notes · View notes

probably-writing-x · 2 years ago

Text

Distanced

Summary: can u write an imagine with reader and drew starkey being at the beginning of the dating stage (met through friends and even though they both really like each other they haven’t revealed their love face to face) so during a party reader saw drew talking with a few actress, influencers, LA girls and she gets jealous and insecure so she starts distancing herself to him thinking that she doesn’t deserve him and she’s too ugly for him but she doesn’t explain herself and drew thinks that he had done something bad and after weeks decide to have a discussion annnnd they both revealed their feelings.

Warnings: Discussions of body image issues, alcohol use, I think that might be everything?

Author’s Note: Sorry this is so long - I started writing and kept going. It’s been a busy few days so I haven’t been writing as much but hopefully I’ll be back to it now :)

———

The thing about being in the celebrity world was that, eventually, everyone was connected. Whether it was a friend of a friend who worked with another guy on a film ten years ago, or it was a neighbour’s neighbour - everyone eventually got to someone else. That’s how you’d met the majority of the people that you considered friends in the industry. You’d released your first album three years ago but it still felt like you were taking your first steps in being ‘famous’. Thankfully, you’d met some good people - Kelsea had become like a sister to you and she’d taken you under her wing instantly. Since she’d started dating Chase, too, she’d been introducing you to more and more people - notably, Drew. She knew that you two would hit it off when she introduced you at a party and you clicked almost instantly, spending the entire night talking in a booth away from the crowd. Since then, he texted you everyday, he’d become the guy you rang when you were walking home or in a taxi on your own, the one you texted to say a quick ‘home safe’. He sent you stupid videos he found online, and facetimed you to listen to him run his lines, or when he needed help with what to wear to an event. Drew was just… nice, you know?

“Okay, sorry, I’m back,” His face pops back into the frame of the facetime call as he sits back down on the couch and picks up his phone from where it was sat pointing up towards the ceiling, “My food arrived.”

“What did you order?” You ask, propping your phone up against the coffee machine on your counter so that you could open your own bag of takeout food.

“I went for chinese food,” He grins, pulling out the boxes of takeout.

“Me too,” You laugh, “But the good place was closed so I had to order from the kind of shitty one.”

“You hate the kind of shitty one, you’re going to eat the chicken and say that it’s a bit dry and that your rice doesn’t have enough flavor, and then you’re going to complain that your takeout night was ruined.”

You narrow your eyes at him through the screen, “That happened one time! How do you even remember that?”

Drew chuckles and sets his phone down so that he can eat, leaning it against the lamp beside his couch so that he’s still visible in the frame, “I remember things (Y/L/N).”

“Okay, which film did you choose?”

“Oh, I picked a terrible one, you’re going to love it. And I think if we try a few times we’ll be able to get the timing perfect this time.”

~~~

“Okay so what are we actually going to tonight?” You ask Kelsea, laying back against the cushions on her bed as she potters around the room, deciding on her outfit.

“It’s a party, I don’t know anything more than that,” She laughs, “It’s meant to be good though, it seems like everyone in LA is going.”

“I don’t like these things, they’re so stressful,” You grumble, pulling the hood of your hoodie up over your head.

“Well maybe if you started getting ready you’d feel more up for it a-“

She’s cut off by the sound of a key in the door, followed by two familiar voices laughing as they walk in. The pair round the corner and you’re met with the sight of Chase and Drew coming into the apartment.

“Hey honey,” Chase grins when he sees Kelsea, going over to kiss her quickly, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Hey (Y/N),” Drew wiggles his brows, slipping off his shoes and flopping down onto the bed next to you, he looks at you and puckers his lips exaggeratively.

“Grow up,” You roll your eyes, turning around so you can rest your head against his chest sideways, your legs dangling off the side of the bed as he stretches down the length of the mattress.

“(Y/N) I need you to talk some sense into Drew here,” Chase encourages, “He doesn’t want to come tonight.”

“I mean, I’m not up for it yet either,” You shrug, “I need like a shot or two and then I’ll be more in the mood to party.”

“Shots, okay, we can do shots,” Chase nods, “How about you two can start getting ready, and we’ll make dinner, and we’ll get some drinks. Sound good?”

“I didn’t agree to make dinner,” Drew points out, “Frankly I can’t think of anything worse.”

You reach a hand back to poke at his ribs and he flinches back from you, locking an arm around your neck and shoulders to trap you against him. He uses his other arm to tickle at your sides until you’re writhing underneath his touch.

“Drew!” You squeal, fighting to get away from him, your legs flailing.

Chase and Kelsea look at each other with a knowing expression, like they were watching the start of a film they already knew the ending to - a sort of inevitability that it seemed impossible to avoid.

~~~

You spend the next hour or two getting ready with Kelsea, changing your outfit three times before settling on one - a black crop top with spaghetti straps and a pair of wide leg black pants, heels underneath that were practically hidden by the excess length of the trousers.

“You guys ready to go? The uber’s here!” Chase calls out, knocking a couple of times on the door of the bedroom before poking it open just an inch or two before opening it fully, “Alright, good to go?”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” Kelsea nods, smoothing her hands over her dress.

When she goes over to him, he wraps an arm around her and tells her she looks beautiful, kissing her shoulder. You follow behind and see Drew waiting for you as the other two leave just ahead.

“Well don’t you scrub up well,” He grins, reaching out his elbow for you to link an arm with his, still taller than you even with your heels on.

“Not so bad yourself, Starkey,” You laugh, holding your hand around his bent arm to help you walk with him.

“Okay, so, how long do we have to stay at this thing tonight?” Drew asks, stepping forward and reaching out a hand for you to take as you’re about to descend the stairs.

“Come on, it’ll be fine, at least we know a few people that will be there,” You point out, “Can’t be that bad.”

“You’ll be regretting saying that later, I promise,” He shakes his head, waving his hand a little more in front of you, “Come on, hurry up.”

He’s wearing a dark green button up shirt and black carpenter jeans, baggy around his legs. It seems to darken the features of his face, defining the freckles around his nose and cheeks, lessening the normal brightness in his eyes. His hair is growing out now from him shaving it for Outer Banks and you’re sure it gives him an innocence beyond what anyone else saw. You loved it most when it was messy, a hundred directions on his head, a sort of carelessness to it.

“Are you coming or what?”

It’s Chase that calls up from the bottom of the stairwell. And you realise for all of the time you’d been staring at Drew, admiring him, he’d been staring at you too.

~~~

The party is already busy when you arrive and there’s people queuing up outside to try to get in. Drew links arms with you as you get out of the car, like he’s constantly scared you’re on the brink of falling whenever you’re in heels. It’s in a club, already littered with tens too many bodies, and music that pounds from the walls, chatter drowned out by the noise.

“Let’s go get us some drinks,” Drew says into your ear and he moves his hand from your arm to press on the small of your back, guiding you in front of him as if he would shield you from the growing crowd behind.

You slip through non-existent gaps in the crowd until you eventually break through to the bar, waiting in the queue with Drew behind you. His hand falls to your waist, his body towering over you from behind and his eyes seemingly on full alert for everything and everyone around you.

“A tequila sprite and a rum and coke please,” You call over the bar to the server who nods at you with a smile, taking two glasses to prepare the drinks.

Drew shifts into the space beside you and leans his forearms on the bar, “Are you trying to get me-“

“Hey!” It’s a voice from beside him that interjects, a girl.

She’s about your age, you think, with makeup that you’re certain you couldn’t match even with the best products. She must be a model, and her outfit is like something straight from a runway. You’re suddenly aware of how itchy your top feels around your chest, and how your trousers don’t seem to be sitting in the right place on your waist anymore. But you ignore it, turning back to the bartender as he pours in the rest of your drink.

“Have we met before?” She asks to Drew, her hand falling to his upper arm.

He looks at her with a frown, “No, no, I don’t think so. I guess I would remember if we did.”

“Well, yours is a face I definitely wouldn’t forget,” She smiles in return, “Who did you come with tonight?”

“Just a few friends,” He returns.

You pause with the drinks glasses in your hand, suddenly hyperaware of how the condensation seems to scratch with the cold against your palms. A few friends. He wasn’t wrong. You and him were just friends, right?

“Well, maybe if your friends don’t mind you could come and dance with me,” The girl smiles, her hand not yet moving from his arm.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll see you around.”

With that, she disappears and Drew turns back in your direction, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Oh, um, here,” You clear your throat, stretching out an arm to give him his drink.

He takes it from you and smiles, taking a sip, “Alright, should we go find the other two?”

You nod and follow behind him in the crowd, he stretches an open hand back as if offering for you to take it but you pause before doing so. It was still undecided in your mind if that was a good thing or a bad thing that he’d been so completely nonchalant. Like that had just happened and it didn’t mean anything. Did it not mean anything because he wasn’t trying to flirt back? Or did it not mean anything because he didn’t think you should care if he was flirting?

After a second too long without your hold, Drew turns back to look for you, eyes flicking between you and his empty hand as if reminding you that he needed to know you were there. You place your hand in his palm and let his fingers wrap around you, not making any move to hold his hand back, just yet.

You meet up with Kelsea and Chase and end up on the dancefloor. Your drink is finished by now and so is another and another, and at some point you’d all done two rounds of shots. Drew is dancing beside you, his arm bumping yours as he moves, trying to make you laugh with every exaggerated dance, or every effort to shout the lyrics of every song he recognised.

At some point, a group of girls are dancing beside you and one of them reaches out to tap Drew on the shoulder. He turns around one another of the girls reaches a hand out for him to take, spinning herself around and starting to dance with him. Chase nudges you and points in that direction as if you hadn’t seen it in the first place, watching as Drew gets engulfed by the group, dancing with them as they laugh at his moves. Kelsea glances in your direction and her brows drop as if concerned, as if worried for your reaction. You force yourself to smile at her and tear your eyes away from Drew, taking a long sip of your drink.

This was silly. You couldn’t keep thinking about this. But the more you thought about not thinking it, the more you thought about it. And you found yourself looking to the group of girls more and more often. They were all in different dresses, and you were sure you recognised their faces from the TikToks that could come up on your for you page of ‘get ready with me’ videos or ‘get dressed with me to go to…’ videos, another two of them you’ve seen at a fashion week before. They’re gorgeous. Their makeup still looks pristine even after hours of being in this hot club. And you’re suddenly aware of how yours is starting to feel more obvious on your face, how your foundation probably doesn’t look as good as it did when you left. How the curl of your lashes has probably dropped by now, your lipgloss non existent. You’re thinking of everything.

When you look back again, Drew’s leaning down to the height of one of the girls so that she can speak into his ear. He laughs at something she’s said and pulls away slightly, his eyes catching yours as his gaze flicks away from her. He smiles but you find yourself looking away before you can think to smile back, feeling slightly less comfortable amongst the party of unknown people.

~~~

You’d stayed at Kelsea’s that night, sleeping in her spare room, and you’re up before she is, a cup of coffee in hand as you’re sat on her balcony.

“Hey, honey,” Her voice cuts in as you’re halfway through your cup of coffee, “How long have you been up?”

“Not long, the pot’s still full if you want some,” You smile, tucking your feet underneath you on the chair.

“I’ll grab some in a minute,” Kelsea responds, sitting down on the other chair, “So, how are you doing after last night?”

You look at her and ponder giving a dismissive response but her face is too genuine to try and lie to, “I- I don’t know how to feel.”

“Okay, well I’m just going to start this by saying you’re allowed to feel upset, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t know if I am though Kels, like me and Drew are just friends - why would I think that I have any place to feel any type of way about him and girls from clubs, you know?” You shake your head, taking a sip of your coffee to stop your bottom lip from trembling, “I just… me and him… I’ve never seen him with girls like that, so I didn’t know what to think.”

Kelsea nods, knowing to let you speak before she says her piece.

“I know we’re friends, and that’s fine. But I just saw those girls and I saw the way they were with him and they looked so… and they had this like confidence and they just…” You take in a shaky breath, “I’m not them. I’m not going to be them.”

“Oh honey!” Kelsea comes off from her chair and crouches in front of you, her hands on your knees, “(Y/N) you don’t need to be them. Drew doesn’t want you to be them. Do you know that? I see the way he is with you, the way he talks about you, that’s not the way you talk about someone if you’re just friends. Those girls, the club, last night, they were coming up to him, he wanted to be with you. I know he did.”

You want to believe her. But even the mention of his name forces the thoughts of last night back into your head, cycling through them like snapshot images, each one a little clearer and stinging just a little more.

“I’ll be okay,” You reach one of your hands down to squeeze Kelsea’s, “It was just one night. It’s okay.”

She furrows her brows and rubs her thumb over your knee, “Alright, I’m going to go and wake Chase up before he’s late for his press stuff.”

Kelsea disappears back inside and you sip down the rest of your coffee, drawing your legs up to your chest and trying to breathe out the tightness between your lungs, blinking away the blur of tears from your eyes.

~~~

It’s a day later when you realise you can only go so long avoiding Drew - perhaps less time than you’d originally thought that it would take. He had texted you a bunch yesterday, originally a good morning text, then turning into a couple of videos he thought were funny, ending the video string with one about when ‘the one person you speak to doesn’t reply’. By the night, he sent you one message saying that he was starting to get worried now that you hadn’t replied, and that he just wanted to check if you were okay. Today, he had called you in the morning and then followed up from his other text saying he was probably just being stupid but he wanted to make sure you were good. You reply with a simple;

Just been busy, got studio sessions coming up. Speak soon

You debate sending a heart at the end but delete it before pressing send. He reads it straight away and responds;

Fuck me I’m just glad you’re alive, felt weird going more than a day without speaking to you!! Hope your studio sessions go well, superstar <;3

You like the message and lock your phone, the same tightness settling on your chest as you’d had at the club, as you’d had yesterday morning. Your breath turns shaky again and you try to ignore it.

The next few days go relatively the same - Drew texts you in the morning, sends you something that reminds you of him or tells you to listen to a song that he’s found. You reply a few hours later with a short response or just react to the message, not wanting conversations to carry on like they normally do.

Another couple of days in, he calls you as you’re leaving the gym and you wait for it to go to voicemail, listening to it as soon as the notification comes through.

“Hey, superstar. I wasn’t sure if I’d get through to you, but I’m guessing you’re busy, um, just calling to say… well, I don’t know what I’m calling to say. Just that I miss you, I mean it’s only been a few days but… I don’t know. Feels weird not talking to you, so call me when you get the chance, let’s make plans or something. Alright, I’ll leave you to… well, I don’t know what you’re doing, which is weird, it feels like I always know what’s going on with you… um … whatever, call me back, or don’t if you don’t want to, I don’t know I-“

It cuts off after that and you’re just met with the monotone voice of your voicemail asking if you want to repeat the message. You listen to it once, twice again, finding comfort in the sound of his voice for those digital seconds.

Your finger hovers over his contact as you think of calling him back but you shift it to the text button instead.

hey! sorry i didn’t get to my phone in time - just been busy with the new album so the days are just going too fast. not sure when i’ll be free, i’m sorry

He reads it instantly and the elipsis bubble appears to say he is typing, disappearing and then reappearing a couple of times.

i told you not to forget me when you were famous (y/l/n). I miss you!!!!

You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying at the words, reluctant to try to come up with any response that would feel fitting.

speak soon !!

~~~

It’s another week later when Kelsea invites you over for dinner, one of those sort of ‘no isn’t an option’ invites. You turn up with a bottle of wine and she wraps you in a bear hug when she sees you, a hand on your shoulder before she lets you come into the apartment.

“What’s going on?” You frown, looking at the slightly panicked expression on her face.

“Okay, don’t be mad,” She winces, “But Chase didn’t realise you were coming tonight and Drew’s here before they go out for dinner with the cast. He’s been asking about you.”

You shrug your shoulders, shake your head, “No, it’s okay, don’t worry. We’re friends, it’s fine.”

She furrows her brows a little, “Are you sure?”

“Of course!” You force a smile that you’re certain is believable enough and she must believe you, leading the way into the kitchen where there’s already a dinner cooking on the stove.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Chase gets up as you walk in, hugging you quickly.

You hug him back and, over his shoulder, spot the sight of Drew standing from his chair at the kitchen island.

“Hey stranger!” He raises his brows, “Where’ve you been?”

“Just a busy couple of weeks,” You nod, tightening your grip around the bottle of wine, “Been a bit M.I.A I guess.”

“Yeah, just a little,” He smiles softly, his eyes seeming to yearn for a little piece of you to come back to him, “Well it’s good to see you.”

You clear your throat, “You too.”

You try not to notice the way he watches you as you cross the kitchen, taking your jacket off and finding a bottle opener in the drawer to open the wine. You avoid eye contact when he watches your move to grab a glass from the shelf, pouring a portion of the liquid into the glass and swirling it around.

When you take a seat at the island, it’s the one furthest away from him. And when his eyes find yours then, it’s like they’re full of worry for his defeat - like this had just confirmed every thought that had been going through his head for the past week and a half. You, once again, find yourself trying to ignore the tightness in your chest, the way it restricts your breath as if he’s pulled it into him. Your eyes turn away from him as soon as you can force yourself to.

You’re just leaving Kelsea’s that night when you see the call come through. You’re almost a full bottle of wine in and it’s late as you’re descending the elevator to get to your Uber.

Your phone buzzes and your lowered inhibitions are the only reason you answer.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N),” His voice sounds slightly breathless on the other end of the phone, “You answered.”

“What’s happening Rafe?”

“Um…” He clears his throat and it crackles down the phone line, “Chase just said that Kelsea texted saying you were heading home. I figured you’d be getting a taxi.”

“I am,” You return, “I’m going down to it now.”

“I always call you when you’re getting a taxi.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “No, you don’t need to-“

“I always do (Y/N). We’ve known each other for seven months, and I always call when you’re in the taxi, why wouldn’t I?”

“Have you been drinking, Drew?”

“Have you?”

Both of you are silent.

“Is that the only reason you answered?” He asks and you’re sure you can hear a shake in the words.

You don’t respond.

“What’s going on, (Y/N)?” There’s definitely a shake now, somewhere close to a tremble, “Why does it feel like I’m losing you?”

“You’re not losing me I’ve just been b-“

“Don’t say you’ve been busy,” He quips, “You’re always busy, but you always make time. This isn’t that, this is different.”

You’re silent.

“Answer me (Y/N),” He doesn’t raise his voice, but the tension in his words seems heightened, harsher.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“I’m free now,” He responds, “I’ll be at yours in half an hour.”

It might be the remaining buzz of alcohol in your system, or the sight of your taxi driver turning into the road, your way home, to Drew, but you don’t think twice when you say;

“Okay.”

~~~

A painfully slow thirty minutes later, Drew buzzes your front door to come up to your flat. He lets himself in and you’re sat waiting as if counting the seconds of him ascending in the elevator. You’ve drank a bottle of water by now and the wait has seemed to sober you up quicker than usual. And then there’s a knock at your apartment door and you’re sure your heart stops as you open it.

He’s wearing a shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top, wrinkled around the bottom from where it had been tucked in but wasn’t anymore. He looks disheveled as if he’d rushed to get here before the minutes caught up with him, or perhaps before you changed your mind.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” He breathes out, “You look beautiful.”

You were wearing a baggy t-shirt that hung around your thighs, a pair of gym shorts underneath, your hair pulled back from your face in a bun with strands seeming to fall out on their own accord, no makeup on your face but your cheeks rosy from the wine in your system.

“Do you want to come in?”

He steps through your front door and you step past him to close it. Drew doesn’t make any effort to move further and neither do you. He’s just stood in your hallway looking at you and you’re stood with your back a few feet from the front door, somewhat feeling isolated now you knew he wasn’t leaving.

“What’s going on (Y/N)?” His shoulders drop as if he just needed to get the words off of his chest, a relief slipping over his features to finally say the words to your face.

“I-“ You take in a deep breath, “I just feel like things are weird between us.”

“They’re weird, yeah,” He scoffs, “They’re weird because you’ve been avoiding me.”

Drew laughs then and you find yourself letting out a little laugh too, the two of you gripping onto the pieces of normality that still remained.

“Did something happen at that party? Because I’ve been wracking my brain and that’s the last night I can remember where it felt like things were normal. And since then I’ve barely seen you. Did something happen? Did I do something? Did I say something?”

You shake your head and wrap your arms around yourself as if you’re cowering away from the idea of having to admit to anything.

“(Y/N)…”

“I hated it-“ You stop yourself, letting your thoughts gather, “We were at that party and I hated it. These girls were flocking to you and flirting with you and chatting to you and all I could think about was how much I hated it. Which is stupid because I have no reason to feel like that but I couldn’t help it and then I hated that I felt like that because I-“

“(Y/N), breathe,” Drew steps towards you, his hand reaching out and lacing with yours.

The contact seems to ground you, his eyes burning into your skin but somehow seeming to calm the raging fire of your nerves.

“I know I have no reason to be jealous, I know that, but I just,” You shake your head, “I was jealous.”

“You were jealous,” Drew returns, the corners of his mouth upturning with the slightest glimpse of brightness on his features.

“It’s stupid because I know we’re just friends and I know that I don’t want to lose that and-“

“You were jealous,” He’s really fighting back a smile now, but it seems to fight harder against him as his lips stretch into a grin.

You look up at him then, your eyes locking with his, you’re sure you forget how to breathe for just a second.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” His brows furrow for a second but he doesn’t seem to lose the joy on his face.

“I just-“ You look down again, “I didn’t want things to be weird between us, or for you to lie and say that you felt the same way.”

Drew moves his free hand up and presses a thumb underneath your chin, his index finger bending around the front to push your chin upwards, guiding your eyes towards him, guiding you back to him. His eyes are sincere, flicking between either of yours.

“It wouldn’t be a lie.”

You open your mouth and close it again, words catching on your tongue as you’re sure your whole body is going to freeze in this exact spot. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing - to stay in this moment.

“But maybe next time you’re feeling jealous, just tell me. Does that sound good to you?” He dips his head just slightly, his fingers not moving from around your chin.

You laugh lightly and nod your head, “That sounds good.”

He chuckles and moves his hand around to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing over the skin, “And those girls? They’re not you.”

You feel your cheeks heat under his touch, his gaze, his words, “Not me?”

Drew shakes his head, “I don’t think anyone could come close,” He hums, dropping his head closer to you until his lips are just an inch from you, breath hot over your features.

In just a second, his lips press to yours, softly as if savouring the feeling of the first time. His hand moves from yours to instead drop to your hip, guiding you backwards until your back is flush against the door. With the contact, he deepens his kiss against your lips, his fingers slipping back into your hair.

When he pulls away, you’re both a little breathless against each other.

“God I’ve waited so long to do that,” He mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours, a smile crawling onto his lips.

“Next time please don’t wait so long,” You laugh, your arms moving to link your hands behind his neck.

“I don’t plan on it,” Drew smirks, dipping his head once again to kiss you, more sure of himself than before.

And, then, you’re sure. You’d stay locked in this moment if you could.

438 notes · View notes

thedeviltohisangel · 8 months ago

Text

FOR A FORTNIGHT THERE WE WERE:

What are Callum and Evelyn up to at this point in time? What does their life in Vancouver look like?

Let me know what recent happenings I should explore next…

Evelyn giddily smiled from the window of her plane as it taxied to the waiting SUV, a hooded figure emerging from the backseat.

It had only been a few days since they’d parted ways in London but her chest had ached every second. Nightly FaceTimes and incessant sharing of reels only went so far to close the gap between her and the man she loved.

The plane came to a stop and she was out of her seat, no care for her belongings, and at the doorway impatiently tapping her fingers against the hull.

“They’ll have the stairs connected in just a moment, Miss Shaw,” her flight attendant said calmly. Evelyn felt like she didn’t even need them. Felt like she could fly down to his arms with how high on excitement she was. Ever since the press tour had ended for Masters of the Air and they had transitioned to the beginning of an Emmy campaign, things felt so much lighter. They had made it through the occasion of showing the world exactly how and where and when they had fallen in love. Answered all the interview questions about how they knew it was becoming real and how they navigated the discovery. Had survived the gifs of them staring at each other and holding hands and whispering in the others ear. The TikTok edits of Callum opening her water bottle or playing footsie or her head resting on his shoulder between interviewers. Evelyn felt free of ever having to explain again why she had made the choices she had and felt free of ever having to justify their love for each other and free of trying to convince people that, even after two years, it was real and lasting and forever.

The flight attendant opened the door and she was down the stairs with a smile just as she realized he was working his way up them. Anything to get to each other even a moment quicker.

“My fucking baby,” he groaned as they met halfway, her arms squeezing tight around his neck and his arms lifting her by the small of her back. She buried her nose in the side of his neck and breathed him in deeply as he turned and carried her the rest of the way to the pavement. “How was the flight?”

“Boring without you to sneak into the back cabin with.” Every private flight they took together went by quickly when there was a private bedroom in the back for them to take advantage of. Whether it was fucking or love making or discussing their future, it was the way she preferred to fly and doing so alone completely paled in comparison.

“Where’s all your stuff?” he asked as she dropped onto her feet.

“Still up there. Would’ve taken to long to grab it and I wanted to be able to grab you as soon as possible.” She pinched at his butt for emphasis.

“Let me go help him.” Cal pecked the tip of her nose and went to offer his assistance to the men loading her larger suitcases into the back of the car, all her belongings that her team hadn’t brought when they’d arrived a week ago to get the rented townhouse to her standard before she landed, and the flight attendant carrying her duffle bag of personal items down the stairs that she had left behind.

“Thank you, Violet. You didn’t have to do that,” Evelyn said as she jogged to take the bag from her.

“It’s not a problem, Miss Shaw. Just happy we could fly you safely into the arms of Mr. Turner once more.” There was a teasing twinkle behind her eyes and Ev blushed. She got to keep the plane in the divorce and all the members of the team had expressed their excitement in the change of leadership. It was nice to have smiles and giggles back in the passenger seats.

Just as quickly as the bag was in her hand, Callum snatched it right out and carried it over to the trunk.

“Evvie, I love you more than anything, but the house is already half full with your clothes and shoes. How much more did you really need to bring?” She was only going to be in Vancouver in between press commitments for season 2 of House of the Dragon before she’d be back to pre production meetings for her new Star Wars film.

“I need exactly what I brought. Kelleigh and I have a lot of things planned while you guys are on set all day.” They had both been furiously texting for weeks about the cafes and shops and day trips they wanted to take together while they were in the same city with their men over the summer. Evelyn was looking forward to spending time with her friend almost as much as she was her boyfriend. “I can’t just sit at home playing with myself while I wait for you.”

“I mean, you could,” he shrugged as he opened the car door for her to slide into, “I wouldn’t mind coming home to that after a long day.”

“I haven’t had sex with you in almost a week. Trust me when I say you’ll still be coming home to plenty.” He smiled as he kissed her properly once they were tucked into the backseat and the car took off towards their temporary Canadian home. Cal was used to staying in hotels or small apartments but Evelyn had wanted something more substantial. A townhouse they could make into a home for the three months they were back and forth with each other. A little semblance of normalcy to host their friends for dinner and dance to a record player and all the new rooms that could spend their free time christening. It stirred something in his chest when she had presented him with options and called it a home away from home and asked him, almost sheepishly, if he was ok with her following him around like that. Though they had been each others for two years, it had been tumultuous until the divorce papers were signed and they were truly free of her ex husband. He had been dumbfounded she’d even asked before recovering quickly and affirming her with kisses that he literally could not have wanted anything more. “You’ve shaved recently,” she remarked as she stroked her fingers along his soft cheeks and jaw.

“Tried to keep the scruff for you as long as I could.” He puckered his lips and she obliged.

“Golo miss me?”

“Whines at the empty side of the bed every morning.” The pup couldn’t even bring himself to jump up and steal it. He knew it was reserved for his mother and would keep it that way until she appeared. Only then would he jump onto the bed to sneak between them. Her smile faltered slightly as her eyes dropped to where their fingers were tangling together in her lap.

“I took that test we were talking about the other day.” Cal assumed the outcome based on her demeanor alone. Assumed it as soon as she didn’t mention it off the plane. “It was negative. Just a scare.” He nodded and tangled their fingers tighter. While Evelyn had been scared, marriage and children so far away in her mind after her ordeal, she knew they were top of mind for him. Knew he’d had a ring with her name on it six months after their first date at a Chelsea pub.

“Not the right time anyways,” he mumbled into the top of her head as her cheek dropped to his chest. He hoped she couldn’t feel it racing. A part of him had thought this would be a good forcing mechanism towards taking the next step. Solidify that they were headed down the path of marriage and a family. A path she talked to him about when they were dreaming against pillows but never seemed to want to commit to any of the details of. She always told him one day. Had recently switched to one day soon. He was holding onto those four extra letters with an iron grip and the control to not ask her everyday if it was the day soon had arrived was grasped just as tightly.

“I love you,” she whispered as she looked up at him. “I missed you. Don’t like being away from you.”

“I love you, too,” he said with a kiss. “Got me forever, you know that.” Evelyn hummed with satisfaction as they kissed a few more times.

“That’s a long time to put up with me.” It was said with a smile but meant as a probe. Deep down she knew the second she had told Callum she’d missed her period that he had joy lit behind his eyes. Knew how he would never push her for the future they both wanted to come sooner but was growing impatient at feeling like she was holding herself back from truly being happy with him.

“I’m at my happiest when I’m putting up with you,” he teased back as he smoothed her hair back from her face. “I don’t know how many different ways to assure you that I want to do life with you, Ev. Every last breath of it.”

“I know that, I promise. And I’ve been working extra hard with Dr. Silva to try and get over this block in my mind about marriage-“ He smoothed his thumb along her cheekbone and kissed her forehead to ease her out of her spiral.

“Ring or no ring, piece of paper or not, you’ve got me forever. I want you to heal at the pace you need. Forget about me and whatever shit I spew when I’m drunk on loving you.” Did calling her his wife and calling himself her husband mean something to him? Yes. Was he fully aware that the terms had lost their significance to her? Also, yes. But he was also rational enough to know whatever version of her he had, he would be content with. Having even a sliver of her was worth more than anything. Anything.

“You’re my partner in life. That means give and take. I can’t just keep taking from you and not giving. If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.” His eyes flickered to the stranger at the wheel. He didn’t feel a fight brewing but the conversation was already too personal for his own comfort. For the protective streak in his heart that urged him to keep her safe.

“We’ll finish this at the house?” he asked with another kiss to her forehead. She nodded but sat up, no longer intertwined in his lap. Her gaze went out the window and she sighed as the city passed by.

“I wish my head was simpler,” she whispered after a few moments. He found her hand in the middle of the seat.

“I think you’re beautiful and crazy and I love you exactly as you are. Wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Not even my obsession with onion rings?” Cal pulled her closer with a laugh and she fell back into him with ease.

“No. Not even that.”

#callum turner #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner fanfic #callum turner fic #Callum turner x OC #Evelyn

51 notes · View notes

buttercupjosh · 10 months ago

Text

Seasons of Love

(Gif credit to @youmustlovehim)

Word count: 2,772

Genres: strangers to lovers to exes, a little bittersweet

Warnings: none

A/N: I’ve had pieces of details of this fic in mind for a while and I started to slowly write it out over the past few months. This title comes from Seasons of Love from the musical RENT, although there’s nothing in the story connects to specific details from that. The story is not based off of anything specific, just a plot that had been simmering in me for some time. It’s not set at a specific moment in time (It’s taking place in a fictional future but you could also say that it’s set this season. However, the season is still ongoing at the moment and anything can happen or change). It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

““How do you measure a year in the life? How about love?” -Seasons of Love from the RENT musical soundtrack

Prologue

“Excuse me, is this a good book to read?” a deep accented voice asks you.

“Dune? For sure, it’s an epic story,” you reply.

“Do you think I could finish it in 4 days?” the voice asks.

“4 days? Unless you’re an Olympian at reading and processing complex storylines, I’d say it might take you close to 4 weeks or even 4 months to read it all,” you respond.

“Oh,” the voice says in defeat, “what do you recommend then?”

You list off some sci-fi recs for the towering cute man and he takes your suggestions into mind before deciding to get a copy of We, a novel written by his fellow countryman Yevgeny Zamyatin.

“I’ve never read that one,” you chimed.

“Should we start a book club then so you can read it?” the voice asks with a chuckle.

“Um, how can I start a book club with someone whose name I don’t even know?”

Slightly embarrassed, the voice introduces himself as Andrei and you introduce yourself to him as you shake hands. His hand in yours felt so comforting for someone you just met under an hour ago. Andrei was impressed that you knew so much about books. One of his New Year’s resolutions was to read more so that’s how he ended up at Barnes and Noble talking to you. You were at the store, just looking around for something new to read, and stumbled into the sci-fi section before checking out with your new copy of Happy Place by Emily Henry.

“So are we starting this book club then, Andrei?” you slyly ask.

Andrei wanted to have someone as a reading buddy to discuss reading with him (the other guys on the team weren’t as into reading as him) and it didn’t hurt that he had someone who knew a lot about literature right in front of him so he agreed to it.

“As long as you read “We” with me, please?” Andrei charmingly requested.

Although sci-fi wasn’t your thing at the moment, you couldn’t quite say no to the man with big brown doe eyes so you grabbed a copy off the shelf. Before going over the parameters of the newly formed book club, Andrei kindly paid for both of your books and you decided to discuss the rules in the cafe located inside of the store.

You and Andrei sat in a semi-secluded booth towards the back of the cafe and began sharing some of your backstories with each other over drinks and muffins. Andrei was again impressed by your educational background of holding an MFA in Creative Writing from NC State and your job as an adjunct English professor at Wake Tech Community College; it definitely explained your love of reading but your dream was to move to New York and become an author one day. You were working on a manuscript for a cute romance novel but still had a lot of things to do before it was ready to be presented to a publisher. The professor job was just a placeholder until you finished up your manuscript and saved up enough money to get a literary agent; you loved writing as much as you loved reading but getting your foot in the door in the writing industry was rough. You listened to Andrei as he told his story about his life and how he ended up in America through his hockey career. You and Andrei were both curious about each other and asked so many questions to each other for such a long time that you didn’t even notice that the store was going to close. Neither of you wanted your time together to end but you both had lives to get to outside of the store. You both laughed when you realized that you and Andrei spent so much time getting to know each other that not once throughout your conversation did you discuss the rules of the book club. Before leaving, you and Andrei exchanged numbers. You both agreed to read the first 50 pages and scheduled to meet up at a different cafe to discuss what you read so far in two weeks.

————————————————————

Winter

Within a year, the book club didn’t last long but it did lead to you and Andrei being in constant contact with each other. Due to both of your schedules, neither of you really had the time to sit down and have deep intellectual discussions about what you read; you both did end up finishing reading We but you finished it at different paces. Being the book lover you are, you completed the book first but Andrei finished reading the book while on the road and he wanted to discuss the ending with you so bad that he surprisingly FaceTime called you. That one FaceTime call with Andrei turned into a long series of texts, phone calls, and more FaceTime calls and eventually spending time together offline. You and Andrei considered each other to be just friends but that friendship eventually turned into you falling for each other.

Andrei was a hot commodity around Raleigh and in Russia with his DMs bursting at the seams but he only had eyes for you. He had never fallen in love with someone the way that he did for you; being with you was different than what he was used to but it worked in the best way. You knew the risks and chaos of being with a busy, famous athlete but Andrei was worth all of it. You blended and adjusted well into the hockey romantic partner lifestyle and Andrei even taught you how to ice skate. Despite the busyness of your lives, you and Andrei still showed up for and made time for each other, even if it was something as small as meeting up at your place for a post-afternoon game milkshake from The Shiny Diner or as big as taking Andrei as your date to your work holiday party. Whenever you had the time, you and Andrei created fun, everlasting memories together. A somewhat sweet memory that Andrei would always remember was when on one cold evening, you wanted to surprise your Russian boyfriend by attempting to make him borscht, a traditional Eastern European soup that was his favorite comfort food. The soup did not come well at all so you and Andrei ended up ordering Panera Bread to warm your bones. Although the soup you made tasted unpleasant, Andrei appreciated the fact that you took the time and effort to learn something from his culture and did that from your heart. The poetic thing about your relationship was that you patiently understood each other, despite the language and culture barrier; your relationship just worked like two puzzle pieces clicking together into place.

————————————————————

Spring

As the flowers bloomed around Raleigh, the school year for you ended on a good note and unsurprisingly, the Canes made playoffs. Deep into your manuscript writing, Andrei surprised you with a trip to New York after the Canes were eliminated from playoffs. You and Andrei were already spending the entire off-season together so this trip wasn’t a necessity but it was a nice thing to do.

Your time in New York was amazing and full of love, fun, and plenty of delicious food. While you were in the City, you took the opportunity to meet with some potential literary agents and publishers; although your manuscript was about 90 percent done, it didn’t hurt to check those things out. Andrei was supportive of you and your dreams but he selfishly wished that those dreams didn’t include moving to New York and that you would stay in Raleigh and have a life with him there. He had already known his future was tightly connected to the City of Oaks but you had a desire to create a future somewhere else. You knew these dreams of yours could possibly involve leaving the love of your life; neither of you tried not to dwell too hard on the stress and pressure that those dreams added to your relationship. You also knew the publishing industry was cutthroat and competitive and that there was no guarantee that your book would be picked up by a top publisher but those realities didn’t stop you from at least trying to take the steps towards that dream.

Outside of this pressure, you and Andrei still made the best of your time in NYC. You also loved musical theater so of course, you had to catch a Broadway show. Andrei, being the amazing boyfriend that he is, actually secured tickets for the two of you to see Hamilton at the Richard Rogers Theater. You had watched the live stage production on Disney+ and knew the entire soundtrack; Andrei went into the show blindly, only remembering bits and pieces from the songs that you played around him. Seeing Hamilton live on Broadway was a great experience that you both enjoyed. You and Andrei got to see New York City in a different light; you got to explore more of the city that you longed to call home and Andrei got to see more of the city as a true tourist. This entire trip was something that you both would forever cherish.

————————————————————

Summer

Not long after you left New York, you went to Russia for the first time to meet and spend time with his family and friends and to see the place that made Andrei into the man that you love. You learned more about Russian culture, Andrei’s childhood, and even was a guest at his cousin’s wedding. Andrei’s friends and family approved of you as a person and they liked you with him; they could all tell how truly in love you were with each other. You also spent some time together in Turkey and around Europe for some much-needed relaxation; you got to see the beautiful blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea in Greece, eat authentic handmade pasta in Italy, and kiss your lover in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris.

Traveling around with Andrei made you feel like you were the protagonist of a great summer read. Speaking of reading, Andrei still maintained his goal of reading more books, reading just about anything and everything, and even started to recommend things for you to read. Before you would fall asleep at night, you would share with each other a fact or synopsis of something that you read that day.

While Andrei was occupied with his off-season training during the day, you applied for publishing jobs, presented your finally completed manuscript to several literary agents, and ended up securing one. It was relieving to officially have a literary agent to represent you but the next biggest hurdle was the painstaking editing process and waiting for your work to be picked up by the right publisher.

————————————————————

Fall

After the bliss of the off-season ended, it was time for the hustle and bustle of your teaching job and hockey season to return. About 2 weeks before preseason started, you and Andrei moved in together. It was exciting to get to live with your lover and spend even more time (whenever you could) with him. It was also nice that you got to add your style to the place and make it your own; having a home also meant that you could host your friends, Andrei’s teammates, and sometimes family for holidays and events and create more cherished memories together. Being a hopeless romantic who loved romance novels, you had always wondered who would be the man to sweep you off your feet but you sort of already knew that man was Andrei.

A fun memory that you made together was the Sunday before the season opener, you and Andrei took a trip to a local corn maze with a pumpkin patch to take cute couple photos together and to also check it out. These photos would be added into some of the new picture frames and a scrapbook of memories in your shared home. The photographer did an excellent job, capturing the love that flowed between you in still moments. For the rest of your time, you wandered around the corn maze, hand-in-hand, with your lovely boyfriend. The infamous oak trees in Raleigh began to shed their leaves and the year began inching closer and closer towards the end.

————————————————————

Winter part 2

One snowy morning, you got an email from McGraw Hill, offering you a job as an educational copy editor in their NYC office. You couldn’t believe it, you were on the path of working at a publisher and hopefully, one day getting your book published; all that you had been working so hard for was starting to pay off in tremendous ways. The only issue that was concerning you was breaking the news to Andrei. You knew he would be happy for you but you also knew what the next steps were. You tried to hold in your tears but after practice, Andrei came home to you crying. He immediately dropped his stuff and concerningly asked you what was wrong. You explained to Andrei that you were crying joyfully over the news you received. Words couldn’t describe how proud Andrei was for you so he picked you up and spun you around in happiness.

“I’m so proud of you, my love,” Andrei repeated as he peppered kisses around your face.

He was truly proud of you but the ecstasy of the good news came with the most painful come down. Andrei didn’t want you to move to New York but he had already known for a while that you wanted to leave. He did try to convince you to stay and he hoped for months that you would change your mind but you didn’t so he helped you pack some of your things. Andrei couldn’t help you move up there so he entrusted Nykki, Martin Necas’ girlfriend, to help you settle into your new home and life, more than 500 miles away from the address you once shared.

You and Andrei did try dating long distance but your relationship unfortunately didn’t last very long. Between the responsibilities of your new job, revising over your manuscript, trying to get your book published somewhere, and Andrei’s hectic hockey schedule, you began to drift apart from each other and the physical distance between you didn’t help either. You enjoyed living in New York and you did miss each other from time to time but Andrei knew it would be unfair to ask you to give up on your dreams to come back to Raleigh and be with him. Despite not dating anymore, you and Andrei talked occasionally but not as frequently as it was when you first met and still remained friends. It was okay that the relationship had run its course because it taught you both a lot about love. Andrei came into your life for a season and those seasons you shared together were full of so much undeniable light and love. The love that you shared was different from the romance novels you read but your relationship wrote its own beautiful story.

————————————————————

Epilogue

Before catching his flight to Miami for the NHL All-Star break, Andrei went into the bookstore at Raleigh-Durham International Airport to look for a book to read on his flight. In the book section, he spotted Seasons of Love, written by you with a New York Times Bestseller sticker on the cover. Over the years, Andrei had heard some things about your novel in passing but he purposely avoided reading the book because the breakup was a bit painful for him. After you achieved getting your book published, you wanted to send Andrei a signed copy but decided against it because you weren’t sure if he would actually read the story and didn’t want to come across as pretentious either. He debated back and forth about getting the book before finally asking a store employee about their opinion about it.

“I read that one. It’s a fictional story but I heard it’s loosely based on a true story about the author’s relationship with some cool guy. It’s a super good read if you like romance," said the store employee.

Hearing what the store employee said about your book made Andrei’s heart warm a little and he purchased it as his read for his trip. After returning back to Raleigh, conveniently, there was a book signing by a familiar author at a local Barnes and Noble that Andrei decided to attend. Although Andrei didn’t get his happy ending with you in real life, you sure gave him one with the words that you wrote on the page.

#andrei svechnikov #carolina hurricanes #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #hockey fic #hockey writing #my writing

46 notes · View notes

kedsandtubesocks · 2 years ago

Text

Go Play Your Video Games

Summary: As a small time gaming streamer, you like your little cozy corner online. But when a subscriber donates a couple of thousand during a charity stream, he swears it’s because he’s an actor. You know the rule about never truly trusting anything on the internet. So there’s no way an actual actor can be watching you stream, right?

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x YouTuber!Reader

Word Count: 11.4K

Rating: M (18+ only)

Warnings: slight phone sex and allusions to sex, drug mentions, if there is anything I’ve missed please let me know (also sorry no beta reader we embrace the chaos the way dieter would)

A/N: Ok so, reader has a YouTube channel name and nickname but I promise it connects to the story so I just wanted to give that heads up! Second there are game references but nothing extreme or that you need to know for reading this. Third yes the title is based off the song ‘video games’ but i highly recommend Trixie Mattel’s cover of it! Fourth and final this is for @skeletoncowboys and @lowlights - my two lovely angels I truly can’t thank you both enough… this would not be here without y’all, you two are my guiding stars

and to you reading this, thank you 💜

Dieter is worried as balls he’s going to be late.

His manager has been talking for so long now that the dude sounds like a parent from a Charlie Brown special, just mumbling muffled crap that Dieter hasn’t even been listening to since fifteen minutes ago.

“Dieter. Dieter, man are you even paying attention?” His manager snaps and Dieter waves half heartedly at him.

“No.” He answers truthfully while his eyes stay focus on the other side of his laptop screen where the YouTube page is opened. Fuck he’s thankful the screen hasn’t changed. His eyes even stopped trying to flicker between the zoom meeting and the YouTube window. Now he just flat out patiently stares at the load screen buffering.

“You know what, fine. We’ll just figure this out tomorrow.” His poor manager sighs giving up.

“Yeah I know. I said earlier we should have discussed this tomorrow but whatever, okay bye!” Dieter cries happily and immediately clicks out of the zoom meeting to maximize the other window. The screen however suddenly freezes in the process.

“God damnit shitty hotel wifi!” Dieter screams horrified, scary movie worthy.

It’s just a snag of a moment but it is costing him time. He now scrambles to try and do something, anything, to bring the screen to life.

Because he’s been waiting for this moment.

A face reveal. Your face reveal.

You normally did all your ‘let’s play’ game streams faceless. You mentioned how you wanted everyone to focus on the game while also admitting that you felt a bit self conscious about showing your face.

But then the charity stream collab came.

“If you guys donate and we make it past one thousand dollars I’ll do it. I’ll do a face reveal stream. And who knows, maybe I’ll do a few more if we reach anything past our goal.”

You announced that during the stream a few weeks ago while your character ran around the Sim’s.

Dieter did not hesitate. He donated the entire thousand himself and added two extra thousand dollars just in case. He even recorded the moment it happened because it was so damn cute. You were so damn cute.

On stream when you suddenly saw the amount you cough out whatever you were taking a sip from. It made him laugh.

“Okay DB Blaster what the HELL?” Your reaction? Saying his user name? One of his top ten favorite moments of all time for sure.

Now the face reveal stream is here.

He already knows you’re probably beautiful, just knows because he can tell. The energy and aura you give off? Yeah he knows you’re gorgeous. Plus his actors’s intuition is no joke.

But now he gets to know what color your eyes are, how your face looks when it lights up when you laugh.

And the damn stupid hotel wifi is fucking up his entire LIFE.

As if nothing, the laptop screen unfreezes and there, the stream pops up. Dieter thinks he actually hears angels singing as the stream loads.

“Come ON!” He screams at the laptop so tempted to shake it.

And then, there you are.

You sit on a cozy gaming chair. The light of your bedroom bathes you in a golden glow as you grin warm. It damn near twinkles in your eyes.

Dieter inhales so fast his head goes dizzy. His heart suddenly jumps wild as hell in his chest and he’s worried it might fly out of his ass.

Because yeah he knew you were going to be pretty, but he didn’t think you’d be down right gorgeous.

He sits stunned in the nice hotel chair.

A piece of him thinks about that one podcast he listened to on how YouTube culture is meant to distract the masses so the alien overlords could take over easier. But right now he thinks the alien overlords could show up, burn his hotel room down and he wouldn’t give a rats ass. He wouldn’t even move from his chair.

Because there you are, separated by millions of pixels and glass screens always. And fuck, you are beautiful and his heart now soars far out of his chest.

Dieter happily grabs from the snack pile he curated to perfection for this event. He mindlessly shoves cheezits into his mouth. The salty cheese snack is enough to finally snap him out of the trance you put him under and immediately type something in your chat.

Streaming started off as a half joke to you.

During the peak of the pandemic the boredom, as well as the ache to just connect with your friends, is what brought you to live video game streaming.

You had played a few rounds of Mario Kart before with online play. But to fully play multiplayer games over a livestream with your friends?

That was how Twitch was introduced to you.

“Let’s just use it to play stupid games together!” Your best friend argued over a voice memo.

Twitch became a simple fun time to play with your friends. You laughed on private streams and enjoyed chasing your friends around trying to figure out who was the killer in Dead by Daylight.

Then your best friend had the crazy idea of uploading one of the livestreams into the main tag.

“Dude we’re funny, you are funny! Why not?”

“If you do that I’m hiding my face.” You vehemently told them.

Now here you are.

A full YouTube channel with 10K followers and doing a full on face reveal.

If you had told the past you that your friend posting the nightly video game group hang out would have transformed into this, you would have probably passed out.

But learning how to edit videos, gaining the confidence to post videos, straight up livestream with strangers, many who have now become dear friends since your Twitch days, and even finding friends among other streamers - all of this has led to where you sit now in your cozy gamer chair.

Because here you are - halcyon ghost.

And you are trying to keep yourself composed at witnessing chat go up into a whirlwind at finally seeing your face.

butterflybabe: GHOST?? U ARE GORGEOUS

ytgnfjkl: must avert my eyes from someone so pretty

JustCallMeSunny: UHH HAND IN MARRIAGE PLS

doodlenoodles: we gotta cancel ghost now for being too beautiful can we do that?

khaki345: just proved to all of us those earth angel allegations are true pal

A childish urge to cover your face itches all over your body and you can’t stop smiling.

DB_Blaster: HEY! I knew ghostie would be lovely before everyone else did thank you!

Then that comment has you smirking as you shake your head seeing the familiar chat name and Roger Rabbit icon.

Outlandish, a bit eccentric, DB_Blaster appeared around a year ago.

AJplays, your closest YouTube friend, advised that yes you can make great friends with a lot of subscribers and members. But you still always had to be careful.

“You don’t know who’s on the other side of the screen or chat ya know?” He had told you and you kept that in the back of your head, a silent awareness to always be just a bit careful.

And then DB Blaster weeks ago dropped a few thousand dollars during your livestream and you almost choked on your drink.

A year ago you made a discord server for channel members. There in a private discord chat you messaged the user who casually had donated enough money to make your head spin.

Halcyonghost: did you seriously just drop 3K

DB_Blaster: excuse you I donated 5k

Just as fast as he replied, he then donated another two thousand dollars.

DB_Blaster: do you need more? 🥺

You sent back a mess of screaming messages.

Most of them were confused and completely freaking out because who has the money to just drop thousands during a charity YouTube stream?

Then this dumbass had the audacity to send you back a gif of Garfield shrugging.

After that you couldn’t help but want to find out more about this elusive DB.

Halcyonghost: so are you some sort of mob member? Is there a mobster actually wanting to watch some youtuber play animal crossing?

DB_Blaster: HAHAHAHAHA

DB_Blaster: holy fuck if only

DB_Blaster: but nah ghostie, I’m an actor 😇

That was the first time he said he was an actor and you rolled your eyes.

Halcyonghost: okay sure, believe the mobster theory even more now

“He might just be some rich sugar daddy type dude.” AJ told you over a voice memo.

That theory felt closer to being true than the possibility of a real actor messaging you. After that DB slowly began to message at weird times of the day. Once at two in the morning he wished you a good day and sent a link to a weird but super funny tiktok. You also always could count on him to send you some of the most outlandish memes.

It was cute and endearing in its own way.

Now as you sort through chat and let the screen load for Stardew Valley an alert pops up on your phone.

Discord Alert: new message

You covertly go to check it on the desktop.

DB_Blaster: oh sweet ghostie you have me on my KNEES

DB_Blaster: you are gorgeous

DB_Blaster: not even Billy Shakes could do your beauty justice

Your lips fight back a smile as you type your reply back.

Halcyonghost: Billy Shakes?

DB Blaster quickly sends you a glittering photo of William Shakespeare wearing sunglasses.

You hold back a stupid little giggle and simply decide to jump into playing.

On stream you run around like crazy trying to fish and end up facilitating a discussion about what maybe do next stream to change things up.

AJPlays: play another horror game you coward

“Don’t be rude!” You wheeze playfully at your friend’s comment. “But I’m open to playing more horror games.”

friedpickle: let’s watch a movie!!

“A movie live watch would be fun.” You offer. “Would be a bit hard since YouTube is ridiculous on copyright movie shit.”

The private discord message notification goes off again.

DB_Blaster: you watch anyone of my movies you wouldn't have to worry about copy right issues I’ld take care of it

You decide to be a bit playful.

Halcyonghost: you sure are serious about the whole actor deal huh?

DB_Blaster: as serious as the Oscar I got 🫡

Now you can’t help but egg him on.

Playfully you reply with the ‘sure Jan’ gif and return to streaming.

The joy of carving out this little space on the Internet for yourself is being reminded how fun it can really be. Sure chat can be a little chaotic to keep up with sometimes, but the conversations are wonderful. It does stun you from time to time to get hit with the realization that real folks watch you, interact with your content and want to talk with you. A fond warmth blooms through your chest even as you frustratedly lose another fish.

That’s when you finally glance at the time on your computer screen.

“Woah team, why didn’t you guys tell me it was this late?” You announce through a yawn seeing it’s about to be past nine.

“Well,” you begin a bit heartfelt and slowly bare your heart. You explain how you never thought you’d get this brave to become a streamer, much less show your face. You sincerely thank everyone who watches, interacts and makes this little nook of the internet so special for you.

Chat blows up and giddiness overwhelms you at the response.

So many cute hearts and massive sweet messages.

AJPlays: LOVE YOU!!

sam maybe: nothing but love for you!

It’s all a beautiful reminder that yeah being online sometimes is good.

As you log off chat you reach for your phone. A few emails from work, texts from your parents, and a couple of alerts from discord wait for you. You check the main server chat first.

doodlenooodles: we should make this day a national holiday -national halcyon ghost face day reveal

JustAshley: agreed

An amused snort escapes you and you move to check the few private discord messages you have.

One is AJ screaming his demand for you to play another horror game along with sending a photo of his partner's sweet dog.

Then two messages wait for you from DB Blaster.

The first is a photo.

A very prestigious Oscar award gleams on a mantle. An opened bag of chips casually is crunched beside it. From how shiny it glistens in the light, the award looks official. Not believing it for a second though, you click on the photo to investigate. You zoom in on the award where the name can be made out even in the gleam of the light.

Academy Award Winner

“Hunger Strike”

Dieter Bravo

“Wait.” You admit outloud.

Why did that name sound familiar?

You google the name and up pops the very handsome veteran actor. You suddenly remember the ads he was in for that Beast Cliff movie your best friend raved were pure delicious golden trash.

There is no way it’s that guy.

Halcyonghost: That’s a good replica lol are you a big fan of his?

DB_Blaster: definitely not a replica and I guess you could say that lol 👀

His profile name now made sense. This guy had to be a huge fan of Dieter Bravo. You could respect that.

DB_Blaster: on another note! I’m glad you did a face reveal, you really are so attractive like wowza

A bit forward, you thought. But he’s quick to apologize.

DB_Blaster: shit sorry I don’t wanna be creepy

DB_Blaster: I just remember how nervous and hesitant you were about ever showing your face and now you getting to this point? rad as fuck

A sweet appreciation unfolds over you fast, sweetening your teeth as if you had just taken a bite out of your favorite cake.

This person has been with you for around a year now. So for him, along with all the other members that have stuck around, to recognize this moment is just as big of a deal for you as it was for them is incredible. The true depth of your emotions feel too big to be captured by words.

Halcyonghost: aw shucks thank you

You explain how as nervous you were, by the time stream hit the hour mark everyone made it feel like you were back to streaming with your friends. You happily embrace that feeling

DB_Blaster: awww you like us! 🥹♥️

Halcyonghost: Of course! Everyone who comes to stream and interacts is what pushes creators like us & I never want to forget or take for granted anyone who views my work

You were lucky and grateful for the sweet community that’s grown with you.

DB_Blaster: wow, pretty poetic and sentimental ghostie I like it

DB_Blaster: 🥰

You smirk cause it’s not even that poetic but you don’t have the energy to correct him. It’s getting late and you want to start heading to bed.

DB_Blaster: can I ask you something? Since you’re being sentimental and what not.

DB_Blaster: and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but I’ve always want to know

DB_Blaster: why did u get into streaming?

Why did you get into streaming and YouTube?

DB_Blaster: fuck shit I’m sorry if that was too invasive

He even sends a worried cat face picture.

What a question to ask though. You thought you had discussed this on stream or even on a previous video before. Now you wonder if maybe you hadn’t mentioned it. All your friends knew about how you got to this point. They were the aid and the only reason why you got the push anyway.

Halcyonghost: No worries its all good

Halcyonghost: guess like everyone else the pandemic kinda just pushed me to try new things, decided to play on twitch with friends on a private stream and then a few streams later my best friend decides to post it on a main tag and it blows up

Halcyonghost: then one brave fuck it decision later a YouTube channel is born and here we are lol

Halcyonghost: sorry if that’s not too exciting

DB_Blaster: no that’s everything

DB_Blaster: it’s special knowing this turned into something meaningful for you it’s great

It catches you off guard at how endearing the message is.

Halcyonghost: wow that’s real sweet thank you ♥

You mean that reply.

After you brush your teeth, you pass out in your bed forgetting to see if he replied back. Strangely enough, the image of a golden Oscar lingers in the back of your mind.

The beautiful moments of enjoying streaming, of getting to bask in how special this little outlet, are what you treasure. But those moments when work, life, clash with your little carved out corner it reminds you that sometimes you need to step away from everything for a bit.

Halcyon Ghost: hey guys, tough day at work today… going have to reschedule stream :( real sorry about this!!

The replies are sweet, reassuring along with some humorous ones. One comes from your mystery man on a private discord message.

DB_Blaster: do you need me to take someone out?

It’s enough to make you laugh and a relaxed ease melts away some of your stress.

Halcyonghost: Tempting! But stand down Don Corleone

DB_Blaster, catching your godfather reference, sends you a gif of the classic ‘‘leave the gun take the cannoli’ scene.

DB_Blaster: sorry work was so tough, anything I can do to help?

You thank him and explain how it’s just work stuff getting you down. Of course you make the joke about one day becoming a full time streamer because every little YouTuber at one point wonders about the life of having that as their job.

DB_Blaster: you should, I’d support you. No lie.

You’re about to dig into the takeout you order and you’re thankful you didn’t take a bite because you would have coughed out a little laugh at seeing that message.

Halcyonghost: Ahh yes forgot… talking to a scary rich mobster here lol

He sends a gif of Marlon Brando’s Don Corleone and it does make you giggle.

DB_Blaster: but seriously, you ever need anything

DB_Blaster: I know it sounds weird but pls let me know okay??

It’s oddly sweet. But of course you sharply remember how this guy donated thousands easily and it only intensely rattles your mind thinking about what kind of man this guy is.

Halcyonghost: thank you ♡

Halcyonghost: so…what do you seriously do? Besides being a mobster obsessed with one random actor lol

DB_Blaster: Rude!!

DB_Blaster: and I told you

DB_Blaster: I am a thespian ghostie babe 😎

He really is sticking to that.

You want to poke fun but you also understood not wanting to discuss personal aspects. So you apologize for asking. He doesn’t reply for a full ten minutes and you now wonder if maybe you could be upsetting him.

Discord alert: DB_Blaster sent you a voice message!

That new alert now makes you eve more worried.

You scramble to grab your headphones and you don’t know why your heart is hammering so much. You don’t hesitate to listen to the voice chat.

“Ghostie.” The voice that greets you is pure smooth goodness. Thick, manly and older, and something feels as if it is being yanked out of your chest fast.

“I swear I’m an actor.” He urges with a laugh. “Do you want me to send you my IMDB page? Or you know what, maybe this might help.”

The voice chat ends and you see the bubbles pop up suggesting he is typing a message in the discord chat.

A photo pops up.

The man in it is scruffy, a bit sleepy looking with bed head type hair. He holds up a peace sign and grins at you. This man is also gorgeous. Deep dark brown eyes and a sharp striking nose, for some reason his voice perfectly fits his features.

His face again seems so familiar.

DB_Blaster: SEE! It me :)

You can’t even reply to that yet.

You go back to googling the name that had first appeared when you saw that academy award.

Dieter Bravo.

The mess of paparazzi photos, screenshots from movies, to various interview clips, the man is the same as the one in the photo sent to you.

This has to be a catfish. Someone really trying to keep their identity hidden and deciding to do some old fashion celebrity role play type deal.

You decide to do a deep dive.

You check Twitter and find he’s not there any more. His Instagram is bare minimum and hasn’t seen a recent post since 2019. He has been included on a few TikToks. But to say that photo sent could be an older Instagram or Twitter photo Dieter Bravo took is too much.

You try turning your brain off from thinking about streaming or a possible catfish living in your messages. But curiosity scratches at you like an anxious kitten. There’s no way it could be the actual actor Dieter Bravo.

Barely one episode into your favorite comfort series rewatch, you decide to check discord.

More messages wait for you.

DB_Blaster: I know you think I’m lying

DB_Blaster: but I am not I swear! I vow on my life!

DB_Blaster: if you feel comfortable enough you are more than welcome to video call me and see me with your own pretty eyes 😇

You want to scream.

There’s no way. But, what could you lose if you video chat with this person? Worst case? You drop the video call, block him on every account and pretend this never happened. Best case? You don’t even want to think about that because a best case feels so outlandish.

Electricity hums through your veins and you sit up straight on your couch.

You hit video call.

Loudly your heart hammers a vicious beat in your ears. The video chat rings twice. Someone answers.

There he is.

Dieter Bravo, in the flesh, talking so bright and amused. His smile crinkles his deep eyes and the crisp light of his kitchen highlights his stunning features.

“Well well well, might have to call a paranormal investigator because I just made contact with a ghost!”

He talks first, so excited and haughty, and you can’t help it.

You hang up the video call.

Wild electrified clusters of emotions course through you so strong it feels as if your brain might shut down.

Dieter Bravo.

Dieter Bravo is a viewer of your channel and is who you have been chatting with.

You call him back. You have to make sure this is real and maybe not just a wild delusion.

Dieter Bravo again answers with the most Cheshire Cat pleased smile.

“Trouble with your wifi? I get it.” He asks so casually.

You really can’t believe it.

“You’re…you’re HOLY FUCK?” You scream.

Dieter barks a laugh.

“And here I was thinking I’d be the one freaking out.” He’s amused and it is so clear in the twinkle of those warm charcoal eyes.

“I told you I wasn’t lying ghostie!” Dieter urges excited.

You could admit and testify that yes, known actor and academy award winner Dieter Bravo is not a liar. And also apparently, he is a fan of part time game streamers.

“I can’t believe it.” You mutter still stunned as hell.

“Believe it ghostie.” He replies swiftly.

“So how was your day before it got turned upside down?” He smirks proud. Even with that you find he is so casual and actually friendly? He mentions how his day went and how he’s excited to feast on the Taco Bell he door dashed.

“How did…How did you even find my channel?” You breathlessly ask.

“Oh, we’re getting into the personal stuff already? I was hoping we’d get to that maybe by our second date but this is fantastic.” He replies back taking a bite out of the Taco Bell he told you he ordered.

“Oh my god.” You sputter out not even processing fully what he’s saying because this entire moment feels outrageous.

He’s a celebrity. A full on icon who has been in the same room as Meryl Streep and here he is grinning at you like he’s won the lotto.

“You know you’re even cuter than you are on stream. Really diggin’ the extra cozy vibes from my favorite cozy gamer.”

You wonder if maybe you should hang up on him again.

“Let’s be serious here.” You huff. You just want to find out and piece together how this man found his way to you.

“Honestly?” He begins after taking a swig of a baja blast.

“I had a bad break up a while back.” Dieter starts with a brisk and slightly detached voice.

“Thought it’d be a long haul thing but…it’s whatever.” His voice drifts off as he moves to sit down. Dieter places his phone across from him so now it feels as if he is sitting across from you. The view gives you a full sight of his wild and vast Taco Bell haul. You also don’t miss the weed pipe resting beside his Baja blast.

“Anyway, I was up late one night, couldn’t sleep. Went to look up a video about how humanity could possibly survive a kraken emerging from the depths of the sea, as one wonders about at three in the morning.”

A wild laugh almost escapes you, but you stay composed as best as you can.

“And then, the freaky as fuck YouTube algorithm decides to recommend me your video.” Dieter says.

“Wait.” Your voice sounds small, as if you’re afraid to shatter this moment. “Which one?”

You watch this handsome man’s face grow soft as his eyes look distant. He dives in to take a scoop out of his nacho pile and munch happily.

You already hate how attractive he is just eating.

“It was the ‘I make a gay love cafe for my animal crossing villagers’ one.” His voice drips with evident fondness. For some reason though, just hearing the title of your video along with his soft voice does it for you. You start giggling.

Maybe it’s the disbelief finally settling in or the exhaustion from the hard day you had, but you laugh and it aches your stomach. Dieter joins in thankfully laughing just as much as you are.

It’s unreal, a twinkling moment you know you’ll never be able to capture again but it’s oddly wonderful.

“I guess you liked it?” You ask through a wheeze.

“Ghostie, I snorted a shit ton of coke just so I could stay awake till five am to binge all your videos.” He admits through a giggle.

“Holy shit!” You cough out a bit stunned at his reply.

“Well,” You manage to recompose yourself and even smile grateful because you are. “Sorry about the break up, those are always shit. But…I am glad you found my little video. Weird as that sounds.”

“It’s not weird.” Dieter reassures you and it knocks you breathless how directly he stares at you. You almost feel exposed.

“It’s kismet, dear ghost.” Dieter tells you with so much eased simplicity it sounds a bit comedic. You can’t help but snort.

It might not be kismet but it was something.

Dieter and you end up messaging each other, constant and steady after that. He begins sending you pictures of the sky outside his LA apartment during his runs. One of them is a glorious tangerine lemonade sky.

DB_Blaster: sky kinda looks like a musty day old orange outside today, it’s kinda nice

There’s a neighborhood cat he always gets excited to see and gladly sends you photos of the unamused white feline whenever he spots her.

You tell him about your day and you are surprised he balances asking about your videos and streaming to asking genuine questions about how you are doing. Interestingly enough you ask more questions about what video games.

“I’m a fucking killer at Mario kart. Love The Sims, the grim reaper is my roommate there.” Figures.

“One day I wanna play Mario Party.” He gladly tells over a voice chat.

“Oh my god you’d be ridiculous at Mario party.” You snicker back. “And the sims…it fits you.”

“Thank you.” He proudly replies and it makes you grin so ridiculously.

Dieter Bravo is charming, but you know he is. You would never admit it to him but that night, that first night after you discovered Dieter was in fact DB_Blaster, you went on an entire Dieter Bravo interview deep dive.

You watched how personable he could be with someone interviewing him. But you also witnessed the side of him that could be a real ass. There was an old Rolling Stone article you read briefly that described him as “an enigma of a man you’d run into at a bathroom and believe you fever dreamed the entire interaction” and that entirely described Dieter perfectly.

By the time your weekly night stream arrives, you can’t help but think of him. He promised you he would be present.

“Ghostie I’ve only missed ONE of your streams and it was only because I was on shrooms and got explosive diarrhea. Not a good night for me.”

It horrified you hearing that but also had you holding back the giggles because the earnestness in his voice was so pure.

Dieter Bravo is a pure enigma of a man for sure.

You decide to stream again with your face camera on to embrace the weight and joy of being known. And also because a secret, but very aware part of you, knows Dieter Bravo watches you.

Your mind wanders to the photos of him at the academy awards. You honestly stared at those for a good few minutes because you could get over how much of a god he looked in his striking tux.

You also think of the one day he video chatted with you. Obvious coke residue was dusted on his nose and he wore a Golden Girl’s shirt that had Cheeto dust on it. Even witnessing that side of him, a deep fondness and even deeper attraction for this chaotic cluster of a man infects you rapidly.

Drop kicking those thoughts away, you jump into playing Tears of the Kingdom. A small discussion buzzes in the chat about which of Zelda’s outfits are the best. You go to check on chat and your heart jumps straight into your throat seeing the familiar user name now among the bunch.

DB_Blaster: Ghostieeeee, my dear you are looking extra ethereal today 🥰

A sharp heat spreads over your cheeks and a giddiness surges through you.

“Moron.” You snicker mainly to yourself even though you know chat probably caught it.

An alert pops up from discord. You click onto it quickly and find a private message.

DB_Blaster: you’re adorable when you get flustered

You are falling down a dangerously slippery slope for this dumb actor. Mentally you want to sink your fingers onto a ledge to stop yourself from going into a free fall.

You simply reply back with a silly nonsense gif because it’s all you can muster.

Stream goes smoothly and you call it in early for the night. Another discord message awaits you and this time you already know who it’s from.

DB_Blaster: what’s the one thing you need the most for streaming?

That stuns you.

When you took the jump into streaming you promised yourself you’d only get the basics and nothing too expensive. Because sure, as much as you would love to spend a couple extra bucks on a better microphone, better software, or even a full time editor you had bills to pay, snacks to buy.

You simply reply back that better audio would be nice.

DB_Blaster: wait how do you buy better audio? 🗣️

You laugh and find it so easy to video call him now.

When he answers, Dieter is not in his lavish LA apartment but a similarly lavish and sleek hotel.

“Hi ghostie.” He grins.

“Wait where are you?”

“Rude! Did you forget I had an audition for a new Broadway production?!” Dieter gasps hurt.

“No, I remembered! I was just surprised you didn’t fly back home already.”

He scoffs. “No way, and miss getting some New York pizza? Plus I’m lazy and just would rather deal with LAX tomorrow.”

As you snicker you decide to settle in for the night. Propping him up against your mirror in the bathroom Dieter suddenly gasps again.

“Am I in your bathroom?! We haven’t even gone on a proper date yet!”

“I’m gonna hang up on you.” You smirk, shaking your head.

A thought suddenly trickles in. You think of AJplays and a few other streamers who are now all your dear friends. There is a small but dear step it takes to see more of the person behind the youtube name.

So you take that step. You give Dieter your real name.

“You can call me that now.” You try to be eased with it as you go to wash your face for the night until you catch how direct Dieter stares at you.

He repeats your name, breathing it out on an exhale that sounds reverent. It galvanizes your heart into a dangerous spring.

“Yup, that’s me.” You weakly reply.

“Your name suits you.” Dieter sincerely says.

“Thanks. Halcyon Ghost is my middle name.”

That makes Dieter laugh and you hate the excitement rushing in you from making him laugh.

Dieter Bravo is truly such a wild but interesting man. He has told you about the time he almost jumped into the water fountain at the Bellagio in Las Vegas. Then over a video call he softly revealed how he wants to create art, performances, that connect with people even long after his soul has passed into the next dimension.

“S’why I got into acting.” He had said so simply.

You can’t believe this strange endearing man now sits in your phone urging you to do a cliché beauty influencer talkthrough of your night time routine.

You raise up your boring moisturizer with the peeling label in the way you had seen in TikToks and videos. However your lack of enthusiasm immediately has Dieter and you busting out wild giggles like school children trying to keep quiet in a library.

Eventually you and him settle into a comfortable eased conversation.

“So you talked about audio earlier…what do you need for better audio?” Dieter of course brings that up again.

“Eh, a better microphone, or some sound mixing equipment. But like I said, I'm good with what I have.” You are.

“I could get you something nicer.” His voice echoes off the walls of your small bathroom and your eyes go wide.

“Uh no!” You chide him. “Please don’t buy me things!”

“Why?” He debates simply.

“Because…because I said so!” You sputter back. Because the thought of this gorgeous man spending money on you is making your knees want to buckle.

“Aren’t we friends? Friends buy each other things.” Dieter replies stubbornly.

“Not new hundred dollar mics!” You fire back just as stubbornly.

“Oh they’re only a hundred dollars? Baby that’s nothing.” He scoffs. But the new nickname he so casually calls you rips a new heat through your body. It crawls up your spine and makes your throat going dry.

You stay quiet not knowing what to say or not trusting what you might say.

“Did I upset you ghostie?” Dieter asks playful but the concern is there.

“No, I'm just tired.” You lie.

“Uh huh.” He doesn’t believe you for a second and you know it.

“Come on,” you grab him from his perch against your mirror and give him a sleepy grin. “Bed time.”

“Are you taking me to bed now, little ghost!? If I knew we were taking this step I would’ve ordered us dinner before!” Dieter exclaims again dramatically and over the top.

You laugh in disbelief and settle against your bed frame.

“You moron.” You can’t help but sigh fondly.

“Yeah your moron.” He offers back gently.

Was he slowly becoming yours, or were you just becoming his? All you can do is grin soft at him and shrug.

“So, you wearing any cute underwear?” He flat out asks. You place your phone down and away from you on the blanket as if to put him in timeout.

Dieter barks a hilarious and loud laugh that fills your room with warm energy you can almost hold in your hands.

You pick up the phone and glare at him.

“You better behave.” You chide him with no malice because your mind is still trying to settle down from the question he asked.

“I will, I will. I swear on my Oscar.” Dieter reassures. It only makes you roll your eyes.

“Tell me why you picked your YouTube name, halcyon ghost.” He says your channel name with proper grand bravado.

It was October when you made the channel. Your thoughts immediately went to something spooky. You also explained how you always thought the word ‘halcyon’ was nice.

“So why not.” You finish explaining a bit anticlimactic.

“Did you know the word comes from some like Greek myth too?” Dieter offers then happily jumps in to retell it.

“Halcyon was the name of some bird. It had the ability to calm rough seas whenever it went to nest or some shit. It’s why the word ‘halcyon’ means tranquility and peace.”

Everytime you are reminded of how worldly and sometimes sagely this ridiculous man can be it knocks something solid through your chest.

“That’s beautiful.” You admit.

Dieter hums thoughtful. “Yeah.”

His eyes suddenly flicker to unflinching look to you. It is just you and him staring so directly at each other. But you can’t hold his gaze for long. You blink away, not even truly focusing on anything.

“So no true poetic meaning picking ‘ghost’?” Dieter asks now interested and curious.

You laugh. “I mean, not really?”

You could probably do some deep analysis and talk about how as a creator, it’s easy to feel like a ghost when there is no interaction with the content created.

You wanted to keep your face, your identity, a bit hidden so the ghost image fit.

“But you know how that went.” You joke.

He snickers.

“Ghosts also haunt things.” Dieter offers with a light tone.

“They do.” You nod.

“Would you believe me if I said you have been haunting me?” Dieter admits into the quiet space of your bedroom.

Your heart trips, skips a beat and you try to control your face but it’s so hard when your eyes snap to his fast.

A moment passes with his wonderfully magnetic eyes again staring at you but now he seems to be waiting for you to say something, anything. Even over a simple video chat the atmosphere in your room thickens, becomes hazy, and it begins to sink beneath your skin.

All you can do is nervously laugh. “I’d say that’s a good one and you should save it for chat.”

Humor, it’s all that you have sometimes. Plus, you don’t know if he is being serious or playful. It’s hard to find the hard line between the two when he’s an actor, a man known for putting up fronts. Because even though you now see him as a friend, there is still a strange space between you and him that you want to cautiously navigate. It feels like a deep river that if you take one more step into you might fall into a rushing tide.

Dieter hums and you don’t miss how his eyes immediately lower a bit downcast.

“I’ll let you go for the night ghostie.” Dieter mutters.

The tension does not leave your room even when the video calls leaves and it makes your skin crawl.

You are at a company dinner Friday night when the email comes.

“Hi Halcyon Ghost

Exciting news! Here is your invitation to this year’s VidCon held in Los Angeles California!”

It is a clash of two worlds and you can’t focus your excitement into anything without making one of your coworkers confused.

AJ already has messaged you screaming with his excitement over you and him receiving the same invite.

You and him already start screaming a plan to meet up and room together.

For some reason your mind jumps to Dieter.

You want to tell him, want to freak out the same way you did when he proudly called you to announce he got the broadway part he auditioned for. He’s become such a strange but solid facet in your life it almost aches how badly you want him more than anything.

Because you’re still at dinner you decide to message him quick and fast in discord. So fast you don’t even remember what you sent. By the time you return to your apartment you find a mess of messages waiting for you.

DB_Blaster: MY DEAR GHOST?? EXCUSE ME?!?!?!

DB_Blaster: WHAT A PRO! WHAT AN ICON!!!

DB_Blaster: 🎉C O N G R A T S 🎉 BABY!!!

DB_Blaster: GHOSTIE!!! CALL ME NOW!!

You do so eagerly.

“Uh hello?” He answers in a bad accent that you vaguely remember from that bad Cliff beast whatever movie. “Is this pro gamer halcyon ghost? Now famous VidCon invitee?”

You laugh is bright and loud and you don’t care.

“I can’t believe it!” You cry. “Me, AJ, and a few of our other friends got the invite! I mean it’s just an invite and it’s not much but-“

“No,” he cuts you off sharply and even frowns. “Don’t do that, give yourself credit. Your content is awesome as fuck and you deserve this!”

Your face drops because he sounds so sincere.

He notices it too. Over the phone’s screen you watch as Dieters eyes flicker and scan over your face so intently.

“God I’m so fucking proud of you.” He breathes out and it makes your spine snap straight.

“Dieter…” you exhale and now catch that familiar shift coming in the air. Even over the video chat you again sense it, something brewing and becoming uncontainable, stretching thin as if it's a wire maybe about to snap.

Then your phone rings.

You cuss sharp under your breath.

Your best friend’s hilarious photo pops up on your phone. You know the call is to congratulate you on the invite. But you know there’s something even more pressing here sitting in the air between you and Dieter. You don’t want to avoid it anymore. The elated energy, the buzz of the high, makes you want to face whatever this is head on, to dive right into whatever is brewing beneath the tides.

Your eyes shoot an apologetic look to Dieter. An understanding but little crooked grin paints his features and makes him look so boyish.

“Text me back or call me when you can.”

Dieter hangs up and you already ache for the actor you’ve grown so deeply fond of.

The phone call with your best friend is wonderful, joyous, and you appreciate the support like this in your life. But it’s getting late and you can’t help but think about the actor still possibly waiting for you.

So you grasp onto the exuberant energy still humming through your system. You harness it with all your might and immediately call him. You chide yourself for getting caught up in the excitement and not video calling him.

Then Dieter answers.

“Ghostie?” He sounds wrecked, out of breath.

“Hi yeah, it’s me. Sorry, am I interrupting something?” You offer small and so worried now.

Until he sighs and it sounds soaked in sex, so delicious and dangerous.

“Baby…” he sighs your name out and it has never sounded more sacred.

“You gotta know,” Dieter whines. “You gotta know how much I want you.”

You are sent out of orbit. Your mind, your body, all melt as everything inside you ignites in a fierce flame.

A few weeks ago you learned one of Dieter’s movies involved a heated sex scene.

After searching and finally finding the clip, it shot the strongest dosage of arousal through your body at a dizzying speed. You rewatched it an embarrassing amount of times, more than you even want to admit to yourself. You thought about how fierce and consuming he kissed his costar. And now those scenes vividly flash in your head, begging you to fall into the beautiful abyss creeping up below you.

“Dieter.” You reply a bit choked.

The faint wet noise of his hand stroking his cock comes and it makes you swallow back a whine.

“Wanted you for so long, think about you all the time.” Dieter mutters in a trance.

“I…” there’s so much you want to say, so much you want to discuss. But heat licks a blazing path through your veins. It makes your underwear sticky and so wet already. All those hesitations and all thoughts you had flutter away.

“Don’t think,” Dieter coos like a soft siren begging you to join him. “Just feel, come on baby. Feel with me.”

So you do. Your hand slips greedily beneath your underwear and you feel everything right there with him in the warm glow of your bedroom.

Sunday night you are on a discord voice call with Dieter as he waits out his canceled flight.

After not talking to him all Saturday he was the one to finally break and call you first. You’re surprised you even answered.

“I can hear you thinking ghostie.” Dieter hums amused.

It’s been on your mind this entire time since Friday, since the phone sex - the thought of whatever you and him are becoming, have now become.

“Talk to me.” He offers soft, soft like the way he wishes you good night over voice memos every night now.

“Do you think about how we have like…different layers? Like I know your job is literally about being someone else. And I understand you present yourself a certain way even in interviews and you aren’t even your true self there-”

“If you watch that one buzzfeed interview I did high I think you’d recant your words baby.” He jokingly interjects and you snort.

“You know what I mean.” You gently return back to the thought you’ve been wanting to discuss with him.

“And with me, I know I have layers of how I’m perceived online and I just…” your voice trails off now thinking you might be getting caught up in your words.

“You think we’re both just caught up in the projected perceptions of the other huh?” Dieter muses.

It again startles you how perceptive he is.

If there is anything that you would have not pictured Dieter Braver to be, it's perceptive. But he is. This is of course the same man who told you how he once drank a Baja blast out of a black licorice because he wondered if the flavor would change. But he’s also deeply intuitive, even a bit wise, and those traits shine so warmly now.

“Ghostie,” he begins and then says your real name. “Remember when I told you how I found your videos? How I said it was…wait fuck what did I say it was like?”

“Kismet,” you smirk saying the word.

“Yeah that’s it thank you baby!” Dieter cheers. “Okay anyway, I said that ‘cause it’s true. Your video was like…some damn lifeline I didn’t know I fucking needed. Finding you felt like I was returning from a haze.”

Confliction bubbles in you with an acidic wave. Pride, gratitude, and even deep admiration rise up all for him but it also strongly clashes with the fierce realist in you.

“And then I got to know you.” He adds firm. “I learned what your favorite take out meal is. I still remember the story you told me about your most embarrassing moment. I learned about the movies you love and the ones you hate.”

Hours were spent discussing movies. You should have known any movie talk with an actor would result in hour long debate over which Lord of the Rings movie is best since Dieter swears it’s the first.

“I know you.” He urges.

“I mean, I don’t know who your favorite teacher was and shit but I…I think I know you. You’re now not just the cute as fuck streamer who brought me out of my dumps. You’re someone who’s been brigtening the FUCK out of my life just from hearing you talk about what you plan to get at the grocery store.”

You don’t realize you’re on the verge of tearing up until you blink and find tears blurring your vision.

“Still can’t believe you donated that much.” You sniffle.

“Yeah but doing that let us all see your lovely face so ha.” Dieter replies haughtily.

“Look baby, let’s just keep getting to know and grow with each other, yeah?” He offers in a hopeful and warm tone that reminds you of a tangerine sunrise.

“Yeah.” You agree and gently walk into that tangerine sunrise.

“Now will you let me buy you some new audio shit?” He asks in an annoying childish high pitch voice and the soft moment gets squashed. But it is pure Dieter.

“You moron.” You choke out through an affectionate laugh.

“Yeah your moron ghostie!” He exclaims with all his might.

“Please tell me you did not just yell that in the middle of an airport.”

“Oh you know I’ve acted worse in an airport. That was nothing.” He scoffs.

You do know. Dieter explained, even sent articles, about how he ran around the Denver Airport once trying to see if there were actual lizard people in the tunnels. It’s why he is forever banned there.

Remembering that solidifies his words.

To know someone is a blessing, a privilege, even if the stories surrounding them are so wild and ridiculous. Maybe even more so with this man.

Because to know Dieter Bravo is to know he is ridiculous, wild, a bit eccentric, but entirely warm and heartfelt.

You realize you never want to know a day without him.

That thought blooms into firm wonderful roots that immediately grow in your heart’s chambers.

By the time VidCon approaches only a month away you, Dieter is now simply calling you over your phone. Discord voice and video chats no more.

“So what are your LA plans?” Dieter asks while chewing through some jerky.

“Well AJ and I already got a room booked by the convention center so that’s my biggest relief.” You and AJ already had excitedly joked about maybe running into a celebrity. A part of you even now has to suppress giggling at just thinking about how you have daily phone calls with a known celebrity buzzfeed articles have deem ‘Sexy AF.’

Except right now said celebrity burps disgustingly loud in your ear.

“Dieter, gross.” You frown.

“Sorry babe…Anyway,” Dieter bounces back quickly. “Want me to pick you up from the airport?”

You almost drop your phone.

“Honey what?” You wheeze out.

“I love it when you call me honey!” He gushes so obnoxiously. You’ve been calling him honey for months now and it never fails he says this every time.

“Focus Bravo.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighs. “As I was saying, let me just pick you up from the airport.”

The thought of finally seeing him in person freezes you. After months of doing the long distance thing, having incredible phone and video sex, everything now settles in you fast. From your excitement, to the fear of him actually seeing you in person-

“Ghostie.” Dieter breaks into your thoughts with a sing song like tone.

You sigh now “Sorry honey.”

Dieter giggles dreamily. “Honey.”

You sigh again.

“Let me pick you up baby.” He suddenly purrs low as if he wasn’t just giggling like a lovesick fangirl a split second before.

It would solve your issue about dealing with a ride share or even the horrifying thought of getting a rental.

“Sure, why not.”

Dieter screams loud as if his favorite sports team just scored but Dieter doesn’t care for sports and you hang up your phone.

He simply now texts you: [See you at stream tonight babeyyy]

You playfully reply back: [not if i block you 😊]

He simply sends back a gif of a dumb minion blowing a kiss and you now really contemplate blocking him.

Later that night on stream, as you play the most recent Pokémon game, you see Dieter’s name pop up.

DB_Blaster: hello beautiful my ghost

You hid your smirk behind the hand your face is leaning on.

Chat of course ignores him while they excitedly continue to send encouraging words about the upcoming VidCon trip. A few members even eagerly hope they can run into you at the convention. It is exciting and reminds you of the exciting energy that awaits before a big vacation.

Then a chime comes from chat.

This one alerts you that someone sent a super chat, which includes a donation with it.

Your eyes readily flicker over to check and thank whoever sent it. Then your eyes almost pop out of your socket.

DB_Blaster - $900 super chat!

“What the fuck!?” You can’t help but flat out shriek.

Thankfully chat reacts just as wild.

butterflybabe: dude db_blaster can you like adopt me??

justAshley: I am manifesting this type of energy to find me oh my god

You scramble quickly to your phone to text him in all caps about what the fuck does he think he’s doing.

[Dieter: for ur mic and audio shit baby!]

[Dieter: Don’t think I forgot 🥰]

[Dieter: or for maybe a new vibrator hmm 👀????]

You swallow back the scream you want to let out and instead slam your phone back down.

Recovering fast you grin at the chat.

“Don’t worry everyone, DB Blaster is actually my estranged rich grandmother, so let’s all say thank you to her! Thank you grandma!” You smile bright and wide on camera.

Dieter straight up calls you in the middle of the stream and you can’t help it. You laugh and almost knock over your microphone.

After scrambling for the days off, shoving everything into a suitcase, suddenly the month is over and you are landing in Los Angeles ready for VidCon.

LAX is an experience, like a whole world encapsulated in one place.

There is a MAC makeup store, a Michael Kors and then a Jersey Mikes. You don’t want to wander around too much before getting lost in its depths. You can almost hear Dieter’s voice rattling off in your head, warning you not to get lost or else the alien creatures living in the airports will grab you and make you play monopoly with them like a scene out of a bad 80’s Sci Fi movie.

Thankfully you don’t have to wait too long to actually hear his voice. Your phone rings and you rapidly scramble to answer it.

“Hello?” You breathlessly answer.

“Baby,” His voice is drenched in disappointment and so much heartbreak. “My ghostie…Fuck I’m so sorry I can’t make it.”

You knew he would be cutting it close with his photoshoot.

“Honey it’s okay I promise.” You reassure him but you still are a bit heartbroken. Your excitement escapes you like a deflated balloon getting caught up in the ceiling of the Los Angeles airport.

“I’ll make it up to you I swear!” Dieter urges with devout conviction.

You know he will, in his own Dieter way and that’s enough to comfort you.

The walk to the rideshare pickup area is solemn but you carry yourself and your luggage with gathered dignity. Thankfully your Uber driver is sweet and you enjoy the chat during the drive. She happily suggests restaurants and different bars to check out making the trip to the hotel not too bad.

Finding AJ already in the lobby waiting for you makes the journey even better. After the hilarious freak out for finally meeting, you now eagerly discuss dinner plans with him.

“Maybe we can go food truck hunting?!” AJ offers excitedly.

You agree with just as much excitement and move to open the door.

There in the room a full array of colors explode before your eyes. So many flowers cover almost every surface of the hotel room. Their arrangements are large and fan out with flair. From gorgeous deep crimson roses to colorful lilies vibrantly begging to be smelled, it overwhelms you but in the best way.

“Okay, what the fuck?!” AJ cries. “Is this because we’re here for VidCon?!”

You want to think it is. But the teddy bear almost the size of the hotel wall nestled happily in the corner says otherwise. Especially because the sweet bear rocks some cool bright neon sunglasses, wears an ‘I ♥️ LA’ t-shirt and has a rolled up white paper taped to his mouth as a mock joint.

Your eyes however now go straight to the sweet little bundle of flowers, your favorite actually, that sit patiently on the coffee table.

A white folded note rests among the flowers.

‘Ghostie’ the handwriting is sleek but messy, scribbled fast but with intent. The sight of it already clogs your throat because it’s exactly how you’d picture Dieter’s handwriting.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it, hope this makes up for it! Don’t worry we’ll be together soon”

-DB

He even doodled a Sun wearing sunglasses with a heart beside it. Your own heart transforms into something light and buoyant. You worry about floating away at any moment.

AJ of course freaks out over dinner when you tell him everything As if summoned out from under a couch cushion himself, your non official-official boyfriend calls.

“Hello?” You answer with a warm grin and AJ eyes go wide.

“Is that him?” AJ mouths. You can only playfully shrug.

“When I walked out of my shoot just now I knew LA looked and smelled brighter and it’s because you’re here.” Dieter says with so much awe that it overpowers his classic Dieter type comment.

“Dork.” You smile so fond that AJ playfully makes a gagging face.

“When can I see you baby?” Dieter mutters in a sweet alluring tone that has something delicious crawling up your spine.

You explain how you are at dinner right now.

“Dinner?! In your first night in LA and it’s without me?!” Dieter exclaims dramatically.

“It’s with Markiplier isn’t it? I knew it! Well tell him he’s only half attractive and that when I get there it’s over for his gamer ass!” He screeches.

“Goodbye!” You laugh wild and unbelievable. You cut him off quickly because goodness, what a beautiful hilarious force Dieter Bravo is.

“So I’m thinking I might get to enjoy a hotel room all to myself this trip huh?” AJ comments playful and with a teasing smirk.

“Maybe!” You reply weak but you know the truth grows in your bones. It only solidifies when you text him to meet you at the hotel.

You want to spend as much time as Dieter will allow. You want to see his apartment, want to find that sweet cat he always takes pictures of during his runs. You want to enjoy and let yourself soak in the bliss of just being with the one man who has been lighting up your life.

[Dieter: heading over, see you soon ghostie 💘]

The text electrifies you faster and brighter than any strike of lightning could. Then, as you sit on the couch waiting for his call, your phone rings and you almost jump out of your skin.

“Yeah honey?” You answer breathlessly.

Quickly you open the door to rush to the elevator only to find Dieter Bravo standing there on the other side.

This moment has filled your daydreams more than you would ever admit. You wondered if this first meet would be some cinematic moment. You originally hoped this would have happened at the airport. You even pictured it a very sweet indie movie type way where the love interests finally meet at a place where so many paths cross and are brought together.

Yet here he is.

The man who’s filled your heart with so much humor and affection that right now it swells to the point you wonder if you might burst.

Dieter’s face falls in complete awe.

He hangs up the phone and before either of you can say anything he moves in quick steps. He swiftly sweeps you into his arms.

Dieter kisses as if you might disappear. His mouth is warm, tasting faintly of ice coffee and a shot of desperation. It makes you melt into him. You clutch his Los Angeles Lakers sweatshirt as you kiss him back with everything you have.

The months, the build up, it all led to this.

As fast as he kissed you, as fierce as he licked into your mouth, suddenly Dieter gently cradles your face. He pauses for a split second and then he is kissing you so softly, so light.

Dieter kisses your lips gently, once twice, before moving to kiss the corner of your lips, the top of your cheek. He finally kisses your forehead and the tenderness overwhelms your senses.

“You’re here.” Dieter breathes out.

“You’re here.” You choke back.

Dieter pulls away and grins a molten sleepy thing that touches his eyes.

He is everything you have dreamed of and then more.

When he pulls you into his arms, simply to just hold you, you squeeze him back with all your might.

“No more screens separating us, ghostie.” Dieter coos affectionately into the top of your head.

No more screens indeed.

As if Dieter himself is a real ghost, he spirits you away from the hotel room. You think your laugh and his still hang in the hallways of the hotel.

“Okay, are you sure you want to do this?” You ask hesitant.

“Yes ghostie, this is the fifth time you’ve asked me. Should I remind you again that I’m the one who suggested this and got excited when you said yes?” Dieter scoffs as he settles into the seat beside yours.

Your heart hammers loud in your ears. You’ve never done this. Hell knowing you’re doing this with him feels even more terrifying.

“Hey,” Suddenly his warm larger hand moves to squeeze yours.

Your eyes flicker to Dieter. He is the picture perfect example of ease and you know it’s not the edible he took because it already wore off after he picked you up from VidCon.

“If you don’t feel comfortable then no worries.” He reassures you effortlessly. You can’t help it. You lean over and kiss him soft, appreciative.

It’s been so easy to fall into place with him.

He kisses you back more and more. You’re about to pull away until he breathes against your lips.

“Move here, move in with me.”

Your eyes snap open wide and you scramble away from him.

“Dieter WHAT?!”

“What!?” He cries back just as loud. “I thought that might take away the nerves and give you something else to think about and then the words just kinda flew out!”

Your damn chaotic but so sweet boyfriend…

You exhale feeling the old nerves now transfer into this new topic and you suppose Dieter’s plan did work in a way.

“Ghostie,” Dieter urges. “Talk to me please.”

A silence settles between you and him.

“You want me to move in with you?” Your voice is small, barely able to process the words yourself. Your eyes flicker to Dieter. He stares at you with the cutest worried face.

“Baby if I had it my way you’d quit your job, live here with me and live off my money until you get sick of me. You’d be here and do whatever the fuck you want for as long as you want.” His tone is soaked with sincerity as he answers without hesitation, without doubt.

“I just wanna come home to you. Wanna see your moisturizer in my bathroom. I want to get into fights over which Pringle’s flavor is best,” Dieter continues so earnest. “It’s the shrimp cocktail flavor by the way.”

“It’s not.” You reply with a sniffle and Dieter smirks affectionately as his thumb strokes your hand.

“Just…think about it, okay?”

It’s a lot to process but hope swirls and swells in your chest. It speaks more than you can at this moment. All you can do is lean forward to kiss him fiercely and true.

Dieter kisses you back softer.

“Come on ghostie,” He mutters against your lips. “Don’t you have a stream to get to?”

“Guess this is why celebrities don’t date fans huh.” You mutter.

Dieter busts out laughing at your comment and you join him feeling bright and limitless. He yanks you into his arms and kisses you multiple times now, all loud and relentless. For the finale he blows a raspberry on your cheek making you laugh even louder.

If you are his ghost, you think he might be your halcyon. A strange beautifully colored bird that seems mythical but one that brings you so much sweet peace among the waves.

“Alright come on let’s do this.”

You jump onto stream and warmly smile as Dieter sits besides you.

Warmly and as casually as you can you greet everyone while also explaining the elephant, or this case academy award winning actor, in the room.

Chat rapidly explodes.

socallie: Dieter bravo?? DIETER BRAVO IS THAT YOU?

butterflybabe: holy shit is that actor dieter bravo?

floatify: Gio from Cliff Beasts I’m ur biggest fan

soupjuicy: DIETER!!!! WOWOWOWOW I LOVE YOU!!!

svdbeau: Uh? HOW? EXPLAIN PLS??

gammagamma: This is the crossover I didn’t know I needed, this is my endgame

dreamfairy95: wait who is this guy

AJPlays: heeheeheee

A j’s comment has you snickering. It’s enough to release the nerves and let you settle in. Unseen by chat or the camera Dieter rubs your knee fondly and a bigger smile tugs at your lips.

You explain that, since it’s VidCon, you thought to try something new and have a friend join. You don’t even have to see Dieter to know he’s smirking like the damn cat that caught the canary.

His agent and manager both loved the idea of him doing a surprise stream.

“Apparently it would be a great way for me to ‘connect with the youth.’” He told you even using air quotes. “Like fuck, I get it. I’m old but hey I’m hip! I can hang!”

That was enough to have you agreeing in a fit of giggles. And after you accepted, then after he fucked your brains out, Dieter warmly told you this was a new fantasy he didn’t even know he needed.

“Finally getting to have fun with my baby while playing games? That’s a dream come true ghostie.”

You find now that maybe it’s a secret dream for you too. Finding someone who wants to sit beside you and cheer you on, who wants to enjoy this silly endeavor that’s become so important to you is a tender dream you want to cherish.

Just thinking of it makes you reach down secretly to quickly squeeze his hand.

“I came here to immortalize myself on the internet as one of the best Mario Kart players ever.” Dieter suddenly speaks and instead of it startling you, a surge of reassurance washes in.

You’re here with him. Who would have thought? Because instead of feeling overwhelmed at the thought of celebrity Dieter Bravo here, it’s simply your boyfriend, Dieter.

“Okay, let’s do this.” Dieter announces with competition and confidence beaming in his voice. “And yes my Mario Kart main is Birdo because I stan a queen in this household.”

He is a natural, effortlessly interacting with chat and laughing so easily with you.

By the time you realize he’s beaten you twice on Bowser’s Castle, you find you never want to leave this moment.

Because this moment? It is a bit ridiculous but wonderful. It reminds you of tasting a sour candy that makes your face pucker so tight but the taste is incredible and makes you only want more.

And you do, you want more moments with Dieter.

“Fuck YEAH! VICTORY! Eat my ASS BOWSER!”

As Dieter screams excitedly, throwing his hands in the air and even doing the weirdest wiggle victory dance, you think you might be the real winner in this game.

#I’m gonna go play Stardew valley until my fingers bleed now ok that’s all bye!!!!#dieter bravo x reader #dieter 🤎

155 notes · View notes