#nathan x reader

The music boomed around you. You practically had to yell at each other in order to be comprehensible. Purple lights sprung around the giant hall you were in – another Vortex Club party. Nate said it’d be a casual meeting to discuss the next big party, but boy was he wrong – not just wrong, practically lying. You knew it blew over as soon as you saw the groups of short-skirted girls walk towards the same direction from your dorm window.

Now you two are draped over a small two-seater in the VIP section, watching the people around you party to the music. Even from afar you could filter out that dumbass jean jacket, only brought out for partying. His eyes were focused on the fling in front of him, moving her body perfectly to the beat.

“I mean, I’m not blaming him” you shrugged. “I never could move so smoothly, especially while dancing.”

“You guys break up or what?”

Beat. You couldn’t think of a better answer than a drawn out “Yup.”

You could remember the look in his eyes. Glassy. Though, neither of you had fought it. It all went far too quickly — the moment both of you snapped, a straight “I think we should see other people” tearing you apart.

But right now you couldn’t think of anything else but his hands on her waist, inching closer and closer. How could he have moved on so fast? Your breath fastens, eyebrows furrow. He glances over at you for a moment, knowing it’d make your blood boil.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

“Huh?”

“You know,” your friend says, pointing at your jittering leg.

“I know. I get shaky when irritated.”

”I’m gonna go take a piss,” she continued. “You comin’?”

”I think I’ll stay here. I’ll be outside, I promise.”

As you both stand up, you begin digging through your jacket, looking for your fire. Bingo.

The warm summer night air made you want to soak under the moon, if possible, drown underneath it. You light your cigarette before staring at the golden lighter in your palm, rubbed off silver on some of its corners. Engraved were his initials in an ornate font.

Everything around you slowed down after taking a few swigs. The trees weren’t blowing so fast anymore and you could finally feel your hair not poking against your back anymore.

Another group of girls walk past you, laughing together. You could see his fling basically leading them on, all heels clacking against the asphalt around campus. One of them asked her why he wouldn’t come with them. No answer.

Nathan was never to be seen in a giant group of girls. After all, they could easily scratch his ego – you know, peer pressure and all. He’s always, obviously, been the insecure kind. He just didn’t like to show it.

You throw away the smoked down cigarette bud, putting it out with the tip of your heel.

The entrance door behind you shot open. Whoever it was, they might be pissed or in a hurry.

Nate?

Nate.

His chest heaved with intensity after recognising your figure from behind, breathing out a chuckle, giving you a slick side glance. You knew where he was headed next, and he knew too. Your thumb brushes over the cold metal lighter in your jacket pocket.

Blur.

Two weeks earlier;

The warm morning sun hit both your faces. From time to time, you’d miss inland Oregon, where summers would take around 80 degrees.

At last, you had each other to warm up. His digits brushed lazily over your curves while placing a few lazy kisses to the crook of your neck.

He could barely sleep. You noticed it in the tremble of his fingers and turning during the night. He forgot to take his pills with him.

You began to crawl out of bed, his hand lingering on yours. Your clothes were sprawled over the floor of your dorm room, causing you to walk around it like they were landmines.

“I’m gonna hit the showers real quick,“ you explained to him.

“I‘ll come with you“ he smirked.

“Ha, ha.“

A shudder shocks through your body before a cold hand lands on your shoulder. It was your friend.

“Fuck,“ you whisper, shocked by her sneaking up on you. She smiled at you in a proud, nearly encouraging manner.

Quick enough, your friend started distracting you with how she bumped into another cute guy. You know, the one who’s good to look at, but just really shouldn’t open his mouth.

Nathan wasn’t afraid of saying what he thought. Even if it stirred up a fight.

Were you really comparing him to others, as if he was some kind of superior form?

You swing the door to the second dorm floor open. You knew his fling lived with her parents here in Arcadia Bay, so they’d be in his dorm room by now, grinding onto each other — or whateverthefuck.

You and your friend go your separate ways, dividing with a long hug. “You’re strong,“ she says.

You sneak into the showers to brush off your makeup. Quiet footsteps slandered outside in the hallway, coming closer.

“If it isn’t the homewrecker,“ a young woman enters the showers. Blonde, short hair, arrogant, and most of all, insecure.

“You’re not wearing a halo above your head either,“ you shot back. “Besides, there’s no way you aren’t jealous of the fact that he’s holding another girl's hand right now.“

“So it‘s true you two broke up?“

“Duh. Haven’t you seen him with her?“

She staggered. “Uhm,- n-no-,“

“A homewrecker is someone who causes a break-up by having an affair with one of two partners in a long-term relationship; he didn’t even have the balls to tell her that he loved her before I came in,“ you explained while drying your face with a towel. "Besides, the term uses women to take the blame instead of men holding accountability for their actions."

“You broke that sweet girl‘s heart,“ Victoria began, emulating empathy.

“As if you wouldn’t do the same, Vic.“

You walked out of the room, not paying attention to closing the door quietly.

Back in your dorm, you take the lighter out of your jacket and place it on your shelf, next to all the other things he’d forget in your dorm. A book on photography by Ansel Adams, a recommendation by him to get you started on photography as a hobby. A few films he thought you’d like. Mostly horror.

You throw yourself onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Then at your alarm clock. You were supposed to be friends with Victoria, Vortex Club and all. But she’s fake as fuck, the same as everybody else.

Everybody lies.

1:24 AM.

Ding.

A text.

Victoria. Of course she had to have the last laugh.

>> U‘LL BE GONE FROM TEH VORTEX SOONER OR LATER. U’VE LOST UR ONLY ENTRY TICKET BITCH

<< oh i’ll be gone dw

The realization hit him like walking into a surprise party he had not consented to. In the minutes leading up to your appearance, he drifted around the room trying to rehearse how to act like a functioning adult. It went poorly. He attempted to sit, only for him to fall right through.

You arrived carrying yourself with the quiet authority of someone who knew who she was. Your posture was confident, your outfit intentional, your hair immaculate. Your presence alone felt grounding. The kids froze.

You had no idea what kind of hotel you were entering. You only knew that a man named Nathan Freeling had seemed charming, earnest, and refreshingly sincere over email. You did not usually agree to meet strangers from dating sites, but Nathan felt old-fashioned in a way that was comforting rather than dated.

So you booked a room.

The moment you stepped through the front doors, a small girl and an awkward teenage boy froze mid-argument at the reception desk. They snapped into place almost instantly, ringing the bell with unnecessary urgency. Katherine appeared at once, because Nathan did not get star-struck. He was dead. He had encountered demons, doppelgängers, and ghosts far stranger than himself.

None of that mattered when you walked into the lobby.

Nathan attempted to lean casually against the counter. His hand passed straight through it. From there, everything unraveled. The kids seized your suitcase with excessive enthusiasm and bolted, shouting directions at each other. The family subtly rearranged the lobby, shifting furniture and clearing paths so Nathan could exist without phasing through objects in full view. It looked like redecorating. No one corrected you.

Nathan hovered slightly above the carpet, having forgotten that gravity applied to him. He had spent the previous twenty minutes alone, practicing introductions that grew more frantic by the second. He was convinced he was about to die again, which felt especially unfair considering he was already dead.

When you entered the dining room, he froze completely.

Your smile erased his sense of balance. He dipped into a half-hover and corrected too quickly, sinking briefly into the floor before popping back up. He admired you instantly. The warm undertones of your skin under soft lighting. The unconscious way you adjusted your hair. The bonnet or wrap tucked into your bag. The quiet self-possession that radiated from you.

He recognized elegance even after decades of death.

He also realized he was doomed.

Nathan tried to be polite, attentive, and normal. When he attempted to pull out your chair, his hand passed through it. Esther hissed from behind a door. You seated yourself without comment, assuming clumsiness rather than impossibility.

The meal Katherine planned fell apart almost immediately. Nathan could not touch anything. Objects slipped through his hands like mist. The family covered for him desperately, inventing allergies, illnesses, and obligations. You accepted every explanation with grace, unaware of the truth. That willingness made them adore you.

The kids found the entire situation hilarious and escalated the excuses. Nathan grew visibly nervous whenever you got too close to him. He refused food with increasing desperation and rambled whenever your fingers brushed near him. You assumed he was simply overwhelmed and nervous.

You weren't exactly wrong.

When you laughed at something he said, the sensation returned all at once.

When dinner ended, he insisted on escorting you to your room. His efforts at romance were clumsy but earnest. Complimenting your perfume.Apologising for underdressing while he praised your outfit. Saying how nice your hair looked.

Nathan was especially enamored with your hair. He learned terminology from you that he had never heard of before.

When you packed to check out, Nathan tried so hard to act civil about it that he forgot not to walk through the door. The moment you expressed a desire to hug him goodbye, he froze up.

You screamed. Katherine screamed. A boy screamed from the vents. Nathan reappeared halfway out of the wall, frantic and apologetic.

He apologized repeatedly, voice breaking with shame. He explained everything, from the fake dating profile as an advertisement, to the fear that honesty would cost him a single evening of connection. He expected rejection.

Instead, you stepped closer.

You did not see him as frightening or broken. You saw someone sweet, anxious, and deeply kind. The ghost part felt secondary.

When you reached for him, your fingers passed through his, but you still felt him.

You booked another night.

In the quiet of your room, he hovered awkwardly, apologizing for everything he could not do. You assured him he did not need to be solid to be present. That truth settled into him gently, reshaping something long-fractured.

When his fingers brushed your cheek, the cold made you shiver. When you leaned into it, he glowed with wonder. His touch felt like winter air with intention, delicate and electric. Every place he traced left goosebumps in its wake.

You held him even though he could not hold you back. He leaned into the warmth anyway, desperate and hopeful. When his lips passed against your skin, cool and unreal, your breath caught. He froze, terrified of having crossed a line.

You did not pull away.

You let him touch you everywhere that mattered, even without pressure, even without weight. His presence wrapped around you like frost and devotion. You felt him everywhere at once.

When you leaned back together, him hovering partly through the bed, you pulled him close as though he were solid. His voice was barely a breath near your ear, a plea rather than a request.

You stayed.

He’d been wanting this for so long— to be accepted as a trainee, a real shot at pursuing his dream. But after so many failed auditions, you had started to expect the results before they even came in. You had gotten too secure that no one would actually take him away from you, and maybe you even secretly selfishly wished he wouldn’t go even if he was accepted. Maybe if you begged him enough, he would stay, just for you. 

But it was a stupid thought, and you knew it would never work. You’d feel awful for even asking or voicing how it all made you feel. Truth was, it wasn’t about you. This was his dream, and finally, he had a real shot at making it come true. You had been suppressing all the emotions for the past week when he first told you, but now that it was your last few hours in the same country as him, you couldn’t bottle it down any more. 

You leaned on his shoulder, burying your face into his hoodie. It worked well to conceal the tears on your face, but you knew Nathan was aware of them anyway. You heard him let out a sigh it felt like he had been holding for ages, and slowly his arms came around yours to hold you back. It was quiet. Somehow, it was comforting. 

Even with the looming reality that he’d been gone all too soon, for that moment, Nathan was yours, and it gave you some solace. He didn’t say much the rest of the night; just wiped your tears, kissed your forehead, promised to call every day he could, and stared at you a bit too intimately for just friends. 

Both of you knew that wasn’t what you were anymore. That line had been crossed long ago, though it was never admitted out loud. And now, you weren’t sure if it would ever lead to anything. 

Tomorrow, he’d be an ocean away, and for the first time in your life, your Nathan wouldn’t be yours anymore. 

...!

The park was loud with laughter, winter chill, boots crunching through thick snow as children ran around without a care in the world.

Your little cousin was no different. He had spent the last hour dragging you from one side of the park to the other, nearly tackling himself into snowbanks while you followed behind, exhausted but unable to say no to him.

You really should've stayed home.

But seeing his bright smile beneath his scarf made it worth it.

At least until he suddenly bent down, scooped up snow, and threw it directly at you.

You gasped. “Hey!”

His laughter rang through the cold air as the snow burst against your coat.

You narrowed your eyes, pretending to look offended while he already backed away cautiously, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“Oh, you’re done for,” you warned dramatically, crouching down to gather snow into your hands. “Come here…- I’ll get you!”

He squealed, running backward through the snow while you threw the snowball after him.

Only for him to duck at the very last second.

Your eyes widened.

The snowball flew right past him.

And straight into someone else’s face.

Right…into their mouth.

The poor stranger coughed immediately, as he spat snow out onto the ground, pushing his laptop away. He looked ready to complain too, brows furrowing as he wiped at his face…

Until he looked up at you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, rushing toward him instantly while your cousin hid behind you in horror. “Are you okay?!”

The stranger blinked at you slowly, almost dazed.

You hurriedly pulled tissues from your pocket, holding them out apologetically. “I’m so sorry…- he dodged it, I didn’t mean to hit you…-”

He stared at you another second too long before finally taking the tissue.

Nathan had only come to the park for some peace and quiet, maybe sit around for a while and work on something without being disturbed.

Instead, he was fed a handful of snow.

And somehow… he couldn't even be mad about it.

Because you were standing in front of him looking genuinely panicked, cheeks pink from the cold, snowflakes caught in your hair while apologizing like you’d committed a crime.

Pretty wasn’t enough of a word.

He wiped at his mouth belatedly, suddenly aware of how ridiculous he probably looked.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you.

“What?” he asked, slightly embarrassed.

“You’re cute,” you muttered absentmindedly, amused by his flustered expression.

And then immediately froze.

Nathan froze too.

The two of you stared at each other as realization slowly settled in, warmth rising to both your faces despite the freezing weather.

You looked away first, mortified. “I mean...- not that…- I mean obviously you are but that’s not…-” You covered your face for a second before sighing.

“Did it hurt? I’m really sorry.”

Nathan looked at you for a moment before quietly shaking his head.

“It’s just snow,” he said easily before pausing.

“A little, maybe.”

“Really?” you asked, trying not to smile.

“A little….,” he nodded, rubbing his jaw, trying to remain composed. “I might need compensation.”

You laughed softly then, the sound making his chest tighten unexpectedly.

Right. Compensation.

“Well…” Nathan rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly awkward. “Maybe you could take me out for coffee or something.”

You blinked.

The tips of his ears turned red almost immediately after he said it.

“I mean…- so I can recover,” he added quickly. “From the snow attack.”

You stared at him for a second before smiling despite yourself. Cute. Very cute.

“And if I…,” you said, trailing off before asking. “… what’s your name?”

His smile came slowly, warm despite the cold around you. “Nathan.”

“Nathan, and what if I agree?” you teased lightly.

Nathan looked away for a brief moment, before meeting your eyes again, shy but hopeful.

“Then I’d probably ask for your number too.”

You chuckled again, softer this time, your own cheeks redder.

“Deal. I should compensate you after all.”

...!