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sanguineterrain · 2 months

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crushin' | jason todd

Summary: Barbara invites you to dinner with the Bats. She's done so before, and you've always declined, but this time, you agree because the Bat you've had a crush on for ages will be there. Little do you know, the only reason he's staying for dinner is because of you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings/tags: batfam shenanigans, dick is a good meddling brother and deserves a fruit basket, fluff and humor, kissing, crushes, love confessions. just wanted to write something sweet and light :)

the divider

"So you're gonna press this," Barbara says, demonstrating on her own screen.

You follow along, clicking and typing. She nods.

"Good. Then you're gonna do this."

You open the file. A video of what looks to be Bruce drunkenly hula-hooping pops up. Your eyes widen.

"And that's how you keep Bruce in check," Barbara says, patting your shoulder. "Use sparingly. Only when he's getting on your last nerve."

"Wow," you say. "Babs, I... I don't know if I should have this kind of power."

"No, it's cool. I have dirt on everyone in this family, so really, it's my power. You're the only one who gets to see the vault."

You look at her. "You scare me."

She grins. "Thanks! Anyway, you're free to go. They'll be back from the mission soon, so our job is pretty much over."

The computer beeps. She checks the notification and types back. Then she hums.

"Or, you can, y'know, join us for dinner. Alfred keeps wondering when you'll do so."

You press your lips together. "I dunno, Babs... are you sure? I don't want to intrude."

"You're not. Seriously. And you know what I just found out? Jason will be here too."

Well. That does certainly stop your refusal in its tracks. You haven't seen Jason properly since he returned. You feel a pang of guilt at that; true, he's never at the Manor, at least not when you're around. But you could've reached out by now.

Still, being able to see him again properly is a wonderful opportunity. One you can't pass up.

"Okay," you say. "I'll join you all. As long as Alfred's okay with it."

She rolls her eyes, smiles. "Don't be ridiculous. C'mon."

You follow her to the elevator Bruce got installed for her. In the Manor, most of the family are sitting down to dinner. Damian and Cass are on one side of the table. Bruce is at the head. Alfred is still bustling in the kitchen.

You start to pull out the chair next to Cass, but Barbara startles you.

"That's Dick's chair!" She smiles sympathetically. "Sorry. He's particular. Isn't he, guys?"

"Yes," Cass says. "He's comfortable here."

"I've no idea what you're referring to, Gordon," says Damian. He nods at you. "Hello."

You smile. "Hey, Damian. That's fine. I'll sit next to you, Babs." You sit in the middle of three chairs, with Barbara on your right and an empty chair on your left.

"Hi, Cass. Hello, Mr. Wayne."

"Bruce," he reminds you. That's not happening. It feels way too weird to call him Bruce, even though you've known him since Jason was Robin. Just, no.

Cass smiles. "Hello. Glad to have you."

"Where's Tim and Duke?" you ask.

"Thomas is at university," Damian says. "Drake is probably with that idiot clone he calls a boyfriend."

Bruce looks up. "Tim and Connor are dating?"

"Good God," Barbara mumbles.

"Well, yes, Father. They've been dating for quite some time, even shared a room together. Last month, Drake went undercover in Atlantic City and the clone—"

"Old man! Where are you?"

"Jason, just—"

"Shut it, Dickhead."

The grandfather clock swings open, revealing the Cave entrance. Up stomps Jason, followed by Dick. Jason has a smear of purple goo on his forehead, but otherwise is clean. His back is to you.

Jason points an accusing gloved finger at Bruce. "You owe me a new bike, new guns, new gear, new phone, new—"

"Jason, slow down. Why exactly do I owe you new things?" Bruce asks.

"Because Tweedle-Dum here didn't scan the fuckin' spaceship that landed in Syracuse and melted my bike with purple goo!"

"It said it was empty," Dick says tiredly. "How was I supposed to know an abandoned ship would spit goo?"

"Okay, alright, boys, don't fight. Yes, Jason, I'll compensate everything you lost in Syracuse."

"Yeah, you will. And a new fridge." Jason thinks. "And a new TV."

"Master Jason," Alfred begins, walking into the dining room with a dish of roasted potatoes. "You may continue your bargaining with Master Bruce after dinner. Wipe that alien sludge off your face and have a seat."

Jason sighs. "Alf, I appreciate the invite, but you know I don't dine with most of the folks at this table. Gets real fuckin' crowded."

"Master Jason, watch your language," Alfred says sternly. "We have a guest. Behave like the young man I raised you to be."

Jason scoffs. "Who, Barbie? She doesn't—" He turns and stops, staring at you.

You smile, suddenly self-conscious. "Hi."

He swallows, eyes wide. "Hi. Hey."

"Aren't you staying for dinner?" you ask, confused. "Barbara said you were."

"I—" He glances at Barbara, then looks at you. "Uh. Well. I don't really..."

"C'mon, Jay, you guys should catch up!" Dick says brightly, already seated.

Jason's mouth sours as he turns to Dick. You pull out the chair next to you and tap the seat.

"You can sit next to me," you say, looking up at Jason.

He immediately turns back to you, lips parted. "Oh. I—y-yeah. Sure. Thanks."

"Master Jason. The goo," Alfred reminds, raising a brow. "And hang up your jacket."

Jason quickly backs up and bumps into the table corner. He winces.

"Right. I'm gonna... yeah. Be right back."

Jason disappears down the hall. Dick grins wolfishly at Barbara.

"You're amazing," he says.

"I know," she says, shrugging.

Alfred serves the last tray of vegetables, then sits. Jason soon returns, gloves and jacket away and goo-free.

"Did you style your hair, Todd?" Damian asks.

"No. Shut it." Jason scoots in his chair, glaring at his brother. But when you pass him the tray of roast, his expression softens. He smiles at you.

"Thanks," he says, and puts three slices on his plate. "Great roast, Alf."

"You haven't tried it," Alfred says, but looks very pleased.

"Don't need to."

"We're very glad you're here, Jason," Bruce says. "All things considered—"

Jason holds up a hand. "Ah-ah. I'm not here for you, old man. Save the speech for another day."

"And who are you here for, Jason?" Dick asks, propping his chin on his hands.

"None of your beeswax, Dick."

Dick shrugs. Damian begins to talk about an art project in school. You pay the appropriate amount of attention until Jason nudges your arm.

"Hey," he says, nodding at your empty glass. "Didja get something to drink?"

"Oh." Heat creeps up your neck. "Um, no. Sorry. I didn't know where to get the drinks."

"'S okay. Alf doesn't put out drinks anymore 'cause everybody drinks something different. You just help yourself to whatever's in the fridge. I'll get it for ya."

"Jason, you don't have to—"

He holds up a hand, smiling. "C'mon, none of that. You're a guest. Orange Fanta, right?"

You blink. "You remembered."

"Uh." His cheeks go pink. "I mean, yeah. No biggie. I'll be back."

Jason stands. Immediately, the others pounce.

"Are you going to the kitchen?" Dick asks.

"No," Jason says.

"Can you get me another Diet Coke?"

"Todd, if you're going to the kitchen, I would like another lemonade, please," Damian says.

"I just said I'm not going to the—"

"Master Jason, will you please bring this into the kitchen?" Alfred asks, holding up an empty tray.

Jason heaves a sigh. You wince.

"Sorry," you whisper.

He shakes his head and winks. "Nah, 's not you."

Obediently, Jason takes the tray and goes to the kitchen. He returns with a Diet Coke, which he tosses at Dick, who catches it with one hand, and a bottle of lemonade, which he throws to Damian who also catches it with one hand and a scowl. Finally, Jason opens the Orange Fanta for you and gently pours it into your glass, then sets the half-full can next to your plate. He sits down.

"Of course they get special treatment," Dick mumbles into his drink.

The table rattles, and Dick winces, squinting at Jason. The table rattles again, and Jason hisses.

"Boys," Bruce says wearily. "Enough."

"Yeah, Jason," Dick says, sticking his nose up. "Y'know it's my birthday soon. I deserve a brother who doesn't kick me."

"Oh, I'll tell ya what you deserve," Jason begins.

"Are we doing laser tag?" Cass pipes up from the end.

"'Course we are! Everybody's gonna be there." Dick looks pointedly at Jason. "Except my own brother. He refused."

You look at Jason, who's got a nasty glower aimed at Dick.

"You're not coming?" you ask.

Jason's expression melts away when he turns to you. "Uh, I mean—"

"No, he's not," Dick says, pulling the saddest pout you've ever seen. "He said he wanted nothing to do with my stupid birthday."

"Those weren't my exact words."

"They were very close," Damian says.

"Shut—"

"Jason, I can't believe you aren't going to Dick's birthday," Barbara says, shaking her head.

Jason's mouth falls open. "Et tu, Barbie?"

"You should come," you say, touching Jason's arm.

He immediately looks at your hand. You slowly remove it, smiling sheepishly.

"Then we can be a team," you say. "We're playing doubles. I'm horrendously bad at laser tag, but I bet we'd win together. I'd watch your six."

"Leaving them in the lurch, Jason?" Barbara tuts. "So unlike you."

Jason heaves a sigh. "For God—okay. Alright, brother mine. You win."

You beam. "So you'll come?"

"'Long as you and I are a team," Jason says, a little shy.

You bump his shoulder with yours. "Of course."

Dick looks at you. "You should join us for dinner every night."

You laugh bashfully. "Thanks, Dick."

Dinner goes on. Bruce excuses himself early, as do Cass and Damian. Soon, it's the four of you plus Alfred cleaning up after dinner. You and Jason are loading the dishwasher when Jason hisses. He pulls out his hand, revealing a thin red cut on his palm.

"Are you okay?" you ask, hovering worriedly.

"Yeah, 'm fine. I'll take the tray—"

"Jason, no," Dick says, herding him away from the dishwasher. "You have to get that wrapped immediately."

"What are you—dude, it's a tiny cut—"

"Yeah, but there was food on there, and you have no idea what can get into the wound and make you sick," Barbara says seriously. "You need to get it cleaned right now."

Jason rolls his eyes. "Fine, whatever. There's a first aid kit in the closet."

"There isn't!" Dick says, shooing Jason toward you. "Alfred hasn't restocked it. You have to go to the Cave. You should both go."

"Yes, great idea," Barbara says, looking at you. "You have medical experience, don't you?"

"I mean, a little, but—"

"More than us!" Dick says, shoving you both towards the hallway.

"I don't think so..."

"You take care of Jaybird here, he needs that hand," Dick says cheerily, opening the Cave entrance. "Go on, go."

"Christ on a bike," Jason mumbles, and heads down the stairs.

You follow, confused and concerned. The entrance slides closed. Jason goes to the medbay, muttering under his breath as he digs through one of the drawers with one hand. You join him, searching the top drawer for the antiseptic spray.

"Is the cut really bad?" you ask, trying to get a better look.

"No. My brother's just an idiot. Nothin' new."

You pull out the spray, some gauze, and a bandaid. Jason nods in thanks and goes to take it.

"I can do it," you say. "I do have medical experience, after all."

He snorts. "Fine by me."

You both sit on the edge of a cot. You turn to Jason and pull his hand into your lap. He inhales sharply. You stop.

"Is this okay?" you ask.

"Y-yeah. Fine. Sorry. I don't get touched a lot." Jason's mouth screws up. "Ugh. That sounded weird."

You laugh. "It's fine, I know what you meant."

He scratches the back of his neck while you clean his hand. He has big hands. Bigger than you remember. They're deeply scarred and calloused. You rub your thumbs over the pads of his fingers without thinking.

"You got soft hands," Jason says quietly.

"Heh. Thanks. The computer life."

He hums. "I didn't know you were working with Babs."

The guilt swims back full force.

"I know. I'm sorry. I should've reached out, Jason. I-I basically ignored you. Not on purpose! I just... I guess I wasn't sure where we stood and I thought maybe you'd be mad I was working for Batman after everything and I was afraid that we wouldn't—"

"Hey, whoa. 'M not mad." Jason finds your gaze. You frown. "I'm serious. I don't mind that you're working for Bruce. I mean, hell, I do too, on occasion. Mostly I just bitch at him."

You giggle. He smiles. You're still holding his hand. You don't really want to let go. Jason doesn't seem to want to pull away either.

"Well, even so, I'm sorry for not reaching out. I did miss you, Jason. And I'm glad you're back."

He clears his throat, ducking his head. "Huh. Well, I missed you too. And y'got nothin' to apologize for. I could've asked about you."

"Well—"

"Uh-uh, no, I'm the king of self-deprication. Y'can't take that from me," Jason says, eyes dancing with mirth.

You sigh dramatically. "Fine, fine. Can we say that we both could've reached out?"

"That's agreeable. And, uh, while we're clearing the air, I'm so terribly sorry 'bout my dumbass brother."

You tilt your head. "What do you mean?"

"Ah, huh. Hm. Well, funny thing. I kinda had a, um, crush on you, before. And Dick has it in his head that I... that I have a chance now. So... yeah."

"Before?" you ask.

You don't know why you're disappointed. It's not like you knew. Except maybe if you had, you wouldn't have missed out. Maybe you wouldn't have lost so much time.

Jason glances at you. "What... why are you sayin' it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you wish... that I..." He shakes his head. "Forget it."

"Jason," you say, barely a whisper.

He looks at you. His eyes flick to your lips, just for a millisecond. "Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

A beat. Your heart falls.

"Yeah." Jason nods. "Yeah, kiss me."

You heart soars.

You hold Jason's face, still holding his hand. He gingerly touches your neck with his uninjured hand, strokes behind your ear with his thumb. Every nerve alights. You're kissing Jason Todd. The boy you've loved since you were thirteen.

"They did it! They're kissing!"

Jason growls against your mouth. You know it's not aimed at you, but it makes lightning shoot down your spine. Wow.

"'M gonna kill 'im," Jason mumbles.

You smile and pull back, just an inch. "It's nearly his birthday. At least wait till next week."

"Hm." Jason kisses the corner of your mouth. You like him so much. "Fine. Y'know you can convince me of pretty much anything? Wield that power carefully."

You wrap your arms around his neck. Jason braces you with a hand on the small of your back.

"I'm very flattered, but I think you're confused, Jay." A kiss to his jaw. "It's you who has a hold on me."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood fanfiction #red hood imagine #jason todd x gender neutral reader #gn reader #jason todd imagine #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman imagine #jason todd fluff

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imaginaryf1shots · 23 days

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Soulmate | Charles Leclerc Ver.

WC: 4.8K

Summery: Once you hit puberty, a red string ties both you and your soulmate together until the moment you meet.

Warning: Not edited, nothing else?

Masterlist

Charles Masterlist

Max Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Lewis Ver.

You live in a world where when a person hits puberty they see a red string. The string is tied to your ring finger on your left hand, and only you get to see the string, well… you and the person on the other side of the string anyway. Your soulmate. It’s like a delicate myth, but it’s real life. There’s a delicate, ethereal thread that connects two souls that are destined to find each other.

The soulmate string gets tighter and more taught the closer you are to meeting your soulmate, and if you’re one of the lucky ones, the moment you touch your string it sends a ting to your soulmate. Not all soulmates can feel it and not both of them have to.

And just your luck it seems like you’re one of the ‘lucky’ soulmates who get to feel it, you believe 99% that your soulmate doesn’t share that ability. Because no matter how many times you played with the string your soulmate didn’t touch his. But, he plays with it all the time. Sometimes, too much. Especially when you were younger and couldn’t focus on anything but the tingling going down your body.

One thing about the string is it points in the direction of your soulmate. If you follow the string it’ll lead you straight to your soulmate. It seemed like your soulmate loved travelling, because there’s no way he can be in almost every direction during a week or two, so finding him seemed almost impossible to you.

You’ve been aware of the string for it seemed like as long as you could remember, life before it seemed to not exist. From when you hit puberty, you could feel the subtle presence that seemed to come and go. A reminder that somewhere out there, someone was connected to you.

Your life in many ways was ordinary. You had a steady job, lived in a comfortable apartment. Spend your free time indulging in your hobbies, going out, meeting friends. Yet there always seemed to be something missing.

It wasn’t that you were unhappy; you simply felt incomplete, like a puzzle with one piece missing. And no matter how much you tried to focus on other things, the string was always there, a quiet reminder that your other half was still out there somewhere.

Then, one morning, everything changed.

You woke up with a holt, your heart racing as if you just ran a marathon. You sat up in bed, breathing heavily, and instinctively placing your hand on your ring finger, where the string was tied. It pulsed with energy, stringer than you’ve ever felt before. The sensation was overwhelming, almost like the string itself was calling you out, urging you to pay attention.

You pulled up your laptop as if you were on autopilot and opened a web page you’ve never opened before, and did something you’ve never done before, all following what the string was urging you to do.

After you’re done and you lean back on the headboard do you think about what you did, you just booked a ticket to a Formula 1 race.

Why? You’ve never seen a race before, never been interested. Just watched the trailer for Drive to Survive on Netflix. But the idea is planted firmly in your head. It wasn’t just a passing thought, and you don’t feel like changing your mind, it was a compulsion, a pull so strong that it felt as if the string itself was guiding you.

This didn’t make sense and yet it felt completely right. The string was humming in approva, telling you that this is the right thing, the right path.

Now you have to book a flight and accommodation to Italy, Monza. It was all happening in a few weeks, everything was super expensive, but you didn’t think about your budget and all the things that you no longer will be able to do. Within minutes, you had booked everything you needed, your heart pounding in a mixture of excitement and nervousness. It was as if you no longer had control and just a passenger being guided by the string.

Over the next few weeks, it was like fate was playing something on you, your social media was filled with everything Formula 1, you kept dreaming of red cars, loud engines and the thrill of speed. You gravitated towards the colour more than any other time in your life. It was as if the universe was conspiring to ensure you followed the string’s guidance, and you found herself surrendering to it completely.

As the day of the race approached, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something monumental was about to happen. The string was more active than ever, pulling you toward a future you could only imagine. It was different from the tingling you got whenever your soulmate touched the string. However you found yourself doubting it all, what had once seemed like a brilliant and fated decision a few weeks ago now felt reckless and impulsive. You had never been one to do things on a whim, especially to the point of travelling and spending a lot of money on a trip you’ll be on alone.

The strong tugged insistently, refusing to let you back out, every time you opened up to cancel your plans, the tug grew stronger, like a gentle and firm reminder that this was where you were meant to be. The undeniable force, propelling you toward Monza.

Despite this, the anxiety gnawed at you. What if you were making a mistake? What if you got there and nothing happened, no grand revelation, no destined encounter? The string might have been real, but it didn’t come with guarantees or explanations.

And so, with your bags packed and your heart full of anticipation, you set off for Monza, ready to embrace whatever the string had in store for you.

You didn’t know what to expect, but one thing was certain: the string had never led you wrong before. And now, as it pulled you toward the Italian Grand Prix, you knew that you were about to find out just how powerful the invisible thread could be.

You spent the days leading up to your departure preparing as best you could, though no amount of packing or planning could ease the nervous tension that coiled in your stomach. You packed your bags carefully, choosing outfits that would suit the late summer Italian weather, making sure to include a few pieces that could be considered stylish yet practical, you had no idea what the atmosphere at an F1 race would be like, after all.

Your friends, while supportive, didn’t quite understand what had driven you to make this decision.

“An F1 race? I didn’t know you were into that.” One of your closest friends had said, a curious smile on her face when you had mentioned the trip.

“I’m not, really.” You had replied, the words sounding strange even to your own ears. “I just… I don’t know. I feel like I need to be there. It’s hard to explain.”

“Well, who knows? Maybe your string is leading you to someone important.” Your friend had teased, though her eyes had softened with understanding.

“Maybe.” You had echoed, your hand instinctively moving to the spot on your finger where you felt the string the strongest. But you hadn’t told anyone just how intense the pull had become, how the string seemed almost alive with energy, vibrating with anticipation.

The day of your departure arrived, and with it, a wave of nervous excitement. You boarded the plane with your heart pounding, each breath feeling like a step closer to something inevitable. As the plane took off, you closed your eyes and tried to focus on the rhythm of the string, letting it soothe your nerves. It pulsed steadily, a reassuring presence that reminded you weren’t alone in this, someone was on the other end, and they were getting closer with every passing minute.

The day had begun like any other for Charles, but there was a subtle shift in the air that he couldn’t quite place. As he went through his morning routine, something felt different, a lingering sense of anticipation that made his pulse quicken. The sensation wasn’t entirely unfamiliar; he had felt it before, at various points in his life. But today, it was stronger, more insistent, as if something monumental was coming.

He absently tugged at the invisible string that had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. The string was always there, a quiet reminder that somewhere out in the world, his soulmate was waiting for him. It had been with him through every high and low, through victories on the track and moments of doubt, always steady, always present. It has always brought him comfort.

But today, the string was different. It thrummed with an intensity he had never felt before, like a live wire humming with electricity. Each gentle tug he gave it seemed to amplify the feeling, sending a wave of warmth through his chest. It was almost distracting, pulling his thoughts away from the upcoming race and toward the person on the other end of the string. Whoever they were, they were close. Closer than they had ever been before.

The pull felt urgent, almost impatient, as if it was trying to tell him something. He tried to push the thought aside, focusing on his training, his strategy, but the string wouldn’t be ignored.

Between meetings with the team and media obligations, Charles found himself reaching for the string, giving it a gentle tug as if testing the waters. Each time, he felt an answering pull, faint but unmistakable. It was as if the string was alive, responding to his touch like never before, and with each interaction, the sensation grew stronger. The closer the race day came, the more the string seemed to tighten, almost pulling him off balance.

Charles had heard stories from other drivers about the moment they met their soulmates—how the string had led them, sometimes in the most unexpected ways. He had always believed his time would come, but he hadn’t expected it to be now, in the middle of one of the most important weekends of his career. And yet, the string had never been wrong before. If it was this insistent, it could only mean one thing: his soulmate was near.

The thought filled him with a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. What if they were right here, in Monza? What if he was about to meet the person who was connected to him by this invisible thread, the person who was meant to complete him?

That night, after a long day of preparations, Charles lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling of his hotel room. The hum of the city outside was a comforting backdrop, but his thoughts were miles away. The string was taut now, almost vibrating with energy, and he could feel it deep in his chest. There was no mistaking it anymore, something life-changing was about to happen, and it was coming fast.

He closed his eyes, letting his hand rest over his ring finger, where the string was most palpable. The connection was strong, almost as if the person on the other end was reaching out to him, trying to bridge the gap between them. He tugged on the string once more, feeling the now familiar warmth spread through him, and this time, the pull was even stronger, almost desperate.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought about the possibilities. Whoever they were, wherever they were, they were close, so close that he could almost feel their presence. The anticipation was almost unbearable, but it was a good kind of tension, the kind that made his heart race in the best way possible.

Charles drifted off to sleep with the string still humming in his chest, the last thought on his mind being the image of meeting his soulmate, finally seeing the person who had been connected to him all these years. The person who, in some inexplicable way, had always been a part of his life.

By the time you arrived in Italy, the string was humming with energy. The warm, late summer air greeted you as you stepped out of the airport, a stark contrast to the cool anxiety that clung to your skin. Monza was just a short train ride away, and the closer you got, the more the string seemed to tighten, as if your soulmate was moving as well, drawing closer.

When you finally arrived at the race venue, you were overwhelmed by the sheer size and scale of everything. The roar of engines, the excited chatter of thousands of fans, it was all a sensory overload. The red of Ferrari catching your eye. The same shade of red you’ve been dreaming of.

You moved through the mass of people, clutching your pass around your neck, trying to steady your racing heart. The string was in control now, pulling you, almost guiding your steps as you navigated through the chaos. It was a strange sensation, like being led by an invisible hand, and you found yourself trusting it completely. You followed the pull without question, weaving through the crowded as if you new exactly what you were doing, and where you’re going.

The closer you got to the paddock area, the stronger the pull became. It was no longer just a gentle tug but a firm and insistent force that you could never ignore. Your pace quickened, your heart pounding. You didn’t know what you were looking for, but you knew you were close, closer than you had ever been before.

And then, suddenly, you felt it. A strong, unmistakable tug on the string, as if someone on the other end was pulling you forward. You stopped dead in your tracks, startled by the intensity of the sensation. It was as if the world around you had shifted, the noise and chaos of the race fading into the background as the string took centre stage.

And then you weren’t moving of your own merit, it was literally as if someone got a hold of the soulmate string and was pulling on it, your hand in the air and you were walking, so you wouldn’t fall straight onto your face. Each step felt heavy with anticipation of what will meet you on the other end of the string.

And then, just as you rounded a corner, you were stopped by security. A large, stern-faced guard held up a hand, barring your path. “I’m sorry, miss, this area is restricted.” He said, his tone firm but polite.

Your heart sank, and it took everything in you to not take a step forward when the next tug came. You could feel your soulmate, just out of reach. Panic began to set in, as you tried to explain, the words tumbling out in a frantic rush.

“Please, you don't understand.” You pleaded. “ I have to get through, My soulmate is inside, and the string is pulling me.”

The guard frowned, clearly sceptical. “I can’t let you in without the proper pass. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to turn back.”

But you didn’t turn around, you couldn’t. The next pull had you walking a few steps forwards.

“Please, please, just let me through, I need to find my soulmate.”

“Look, we get that a lot, the fans always come trying to act as if one of the drivers is their soulmates when it’s clearly not.” The guard said and another one came to see what was going on, both blocked your path completely.

“I’m not a-” You’re cut off but a hard tug, the guards hold your biceps to stop you from moving.

“What the…” The second guard trails off, your legs aren’t moving but your upper body is being pushed by an invisible force. The guards share a look, this is real, your soulmate is inside. “Go with her, I’ll stay here.”

“Thank you, thank you.” You told them and followed the string. The guard walked by your side, your heart skipped a beat in thought that you’ll finally meet your soulmate.

The paddock was a flurry of activity, with team members rushing about, media personnel setting up cameras, and the roar of engines echoing through the area. For most, it was just another thrilling race day at Monza, but for Charles, today felt different. The string tugged at him with a force that was nearly overwhelming, its intensity far beyond anything he had ever felt before.

It was like a constant thrum in his chest, an insistent reminder that something, someone, was close. Every nerve in his body was attuned to it, and he couldn’t focus on anything else. He had tried to go through the usual pre-race motions, but his concentration kept slipping. His thoughts were consumed by the string and the strange sense of anticipation that had been building for days.

Charles wandered through the paddock most of the day, pretending to be busy, but his mind was elsewhere. He kept glancing around, searching for something he couldn’t name. He tugged at the string absently, the familiar gesture now charged with an electric energy. Each pull was met with an answering force, stronger than ever, as if the person on the other end was tugging back, trying to reach him.

Carlos and his team noticed his distracted state, but none of them said anything. They knew Charles well enough to understand that something significant was going on, though they couldn’t begin to guess what it might be.

Charles paused for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He needed to get a grip on himself, he had a race to focus on. But no matter how hard he tried, the string wouldn’t let him go. Charles allowed himself to follow the tugging of the string, he got out of the garage and into the pitlane, the string wasn’t loose on the ground anymore, it was taught, touching it softly, Charles just followed his heart and started pulling. It looked strange to those standing around him but he just pulled, he didn’t care.

The tugging grew worse the more you walked. You definitely gained more than a few weirded out looks from people standing and walking around. You came out onto the pitlane and followed the string through a few people standing around, and then you saw it. Right there is your soulmate, he’s pulling on the sting with a cute but confused look on his face.

“You can stop pulling now.” You say once you were close enough so he could hear you. Charles looks up at the sound of your voice, his heart skipping a beat, there you stood. The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the sun was coming up from behind you, making you shine.

You weren’t prepared for the sight of the man standing before you, the man who was connected to you by the same string that had been with you for so many years.

The world seemed to fade away, the noise of the paddock reduced to a distant hum as the two of you stared at each other in disbelief. The string shimmered between you, a tangible symbol of the connection that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to bring them together.

Charles followed the string on your finger to his, making sure that you’re his actual soulmate, even though the fact that he can see the string in the first place is an indication of your connection.

Charles took a tentative step forward, the string tugging at him with a gentle insistence. The tension in the string eased slightly, as if satisfied that its work was nearly done.

Finally, Charles found his voice. “It’s you.” He said softly, the words coming out almost as a whisper. “You’re the one.”

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. You could feel the truth of his words in every part of your being. The sting is shorter than it’s ever been, brighter than it’s ever been.

As his fingers brushed the glowing thread, it dissolved into a soft light, disappearing from view but leaving behind a deep, unbreakable bond. The moment your hands touched, a surge of warmth flooded through both of you, a sensation of completeness that neither had ever felt before. It was as if a missing piece had finally clicked into place, and you were whole for the first time in your lives. When did he even get this close?

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, gazing at each other, the reality of what happened sinking in. The noise of the paddock fading even further into the background until it was just the two of you. Looking at your hands, you see the last of the string dissolve into nothing, and in its place a tattoo-like line wrap around your finger where the string once was, the mark on your finger an exact replica to the one that made itself at home on Charles’ finger.

For a brief moment, it was as though time had stopped. But soon, reality began to seep back in. The sounds of the paddock returned to normal, the chatter of people, the hum of engines, and the distant roar of the crowd became more prominent. Yet even as the world resumed its usual pace, you and Charles remained locked in the orbit of their newfound connection.

"Would you like to... go somewhere quieter?" Charles finally asked, his voice gentle, almost hesitant. Despite his fame and confidence on the track, this moment felt far more significant, and he was suddenly unsure of himself in a way he hadn’t been in a long time.

You nodded, grateful for the suggestion. “Yes, that would be nice.” You replied softly, your voice still trembling with emotion. It’s then that you notice the amount of people standing around you that saw what had just happened. You have no idea why they were all watching the two of you with intensity.

Charles led you through the busiest parts of the garage, with practised steps. Once you were alone in his driver’s room, Charles turned to face you, his expression a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

“I don’t even know where to start.” He admitted with a slight chuckle. “This is… well, it’s a lot.”

“It is.” You smiled feeling a little more at ease now that you were away from the chaos. “I’ve imagined this moment so many times, but now that it’s here, I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s a bit much.” Charles takes your hand in his as if he’s been doing it for years, it all felt familiar, yet new and warm. “Have you always liked Formula 1?”

“No, I was never interested until a couple months ago when I woke up and booked the tickets.” You confess suddenly feeling shy. “All I know is from the few videos I watched since booking the tickets.”

“So… Do you know who I am?... That sounded a bit like I'm arrogant." Charles' face went red, he rubbed the back of his neck feeling embarrassed by how the words came out.

"No, no, not at all." You tell him with a soft smile. "I feel a bit embarrassed that I don't."

"Don't be, that means we'll get to know each other from... well, each other." Charles squeezes your hand and you smile and nod.

"I guess we will." Your smile was blinding, Charles can't believe he's spent all his life without having you in it, now that he met you it feels like he just started living, this is a feeling unlike any he felt before. You look around and realise something. "You know red has been such a big colour in my life for so long, but recently the presence of red has been overly so."

"I guess it's because I bleed Ferrari." Charles said.

"What exactly do you do?" You asked him, looking at his clothes, he was just wearing a Ferrari team shirt and jeans.

"I uh, I drive for Scuderia Ferrari." Your mouth makes an 'O' shape and you nod to yourself.

"You're one of the 20 drivers?" Charles lets out a yeah, his smile didn't drop from his face. "We'll have to sit down so you can explain everything to me."

"We will, after I win for you today." Charles promised you, your eyes went wide.

“Do you have to go? You don't have to stay with me, I have tickets for the FIA hospitality." You say pointing at the pass around your neck.

“Not happening, you'll stay in Ferrari, I'll get you a pass before I have to go in a bit." Charles didn't want to let you go and it was obvious. "Give me your phone, just in case."

“Want to get my number already." You tease him before you unlock your phone and give it to him, he puts in his number and calls himself. Charles takes you out of his room, his hand in yours, gaining smiles from everyone he meets. Charles is loved by anyone that has ever come in contact with him, so seeing him with his soulmate makes everyone happy for him. You're given a soulmate pass, teams always had those on hand just in case something like this happens.

Charles leaves you with Rebecca, Carlos' girlfriend, before he has to go. You admit to her your ignorance when it comes to Formula one, she takes it on herself to explain the basics. Charles comes over before he has to get onto the track for the start of the race, and pulls you in for a hug. You sigh in content and return his hug, feeling warm and happy.

"Good luck." You say smiling up at him, your eyes taking his in.

"Thank you." He says, kisses your cheek before he leaves, your face goes red. Rebeca bumps her shoulder with yours and gives you a teasing smile.

“Wait, he's first.” It takes you longer than those around you to realise what has happened.

“Yes! Oh my god!” Rebeca is excited, this is a big win for the Tifosi, currently Ferrari is 1 and 3 and there's 3 more laps to go. “This is Ferrari's home race, this means so much to the team and fans.”

You all watch the last few laps with baited breath, when Charles crosses the line, the garage erupts in cheers, jumping, clapping, and patting on backs. It's chaotic.

“Come on, we get to meet them in Parc Ferme.” Rebeca takes your hand in hers and pulls you with her through the crowd, leading you to the front of the barriers, Lewis in second place is the first to come back followed by Carlos. Carlos jumps from his car and runs to the team, they shout and pull him up so he's part crowd surfing before they place him down, he then goes to Rebeca for a hug and kiss. Meanwhile Charles comes back, he stands in the car with his arms up in celebration, the whole crowd cheers, the team cheers, you clap and smile at your soulmate, you feel his happiness from where you stood, you don't know if it's because of the mate bond or whatever but you feel it. Charles jumps from his car and launches himself into the arms of the team, they pull him up and higher than Carlos, cheering and screaming, they place him down before too long and pat his back in congratulations, Charles looks around until his eyes fall on you, his eyes are scrunched under the helmet no doubt he's smiling. He takes it off while he walks toward you, with determent steps. Charles only hesitates for a second when he's stood in front of you before he puts his hands on your cheeks; they're so big, his fingers are in your hair. You lean in and up and Charles meets you halfway. You've known each other for barely any time, but you're soulmates, you're meant to be. The feeling you get once your lips touch is unlike any you've ever felt before, it was like you were connected, like you could feel his emotions and he could feel yours in that moment. Everything was amplified.

"My lucky charm." Charles says once he pulls back and places his forehead on yours.

"Good thing you're stuck with me then." You say breathless and smile, Charles returns the smile, another kiss and he's pulled away from you for the weighting, interviews and then the podiums, before more interviews and ending with debrief.

Main Taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn .

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fettuccin-e · 11 months

Text

The First Time

Kinktober Day 15: Size Kink

Tags: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), fingering (r!recieving), oral (r!giving and recieving), Frankie's monster schlong, yeah he's got a giant dick we all know it (w/c: 1.5K)

A/N: Part of the rapid-fire Kinktober catch up! My absolutely massive size kink really let itself free with this one (get it?? massive?? hehehe) but anyway please enjoy my ramblings about taking Frankie's gigantic schlong. (I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings for Kinktober!)

The first time you undress Frankie, really see him for the first time, bare and open to your gaze, you think you’re fucking hallucinating. He’d been so shy when you’d first met, so unassuming next to Pope and Will and Benny. Tugging the brim of his cap to cover his eyes, a timid little smile playing on his face as you flirted with him, not his friends.

You couldn’t have expected the fucking monster between his thighs the first time you have him naked in your bed, his cock so thick you can barely wrap your hand around him. You don't expect the way you choke on him when you try to blow him, only for you to realize that you hadn't even made it halfway.

He doesn’t fuck you that night, the both of you too high on each other’s bodies and too tipsy from the bottle of wine you’d shared earlier.

“Need time to get you ready, hermosa,” he whispers in your ear, fucking you so hard and deep on his fingers you nearly cry. “Next time baby, next time.”

The first time he fucks you, he doesn’t make it all the way. You think you're ready, despite Frankie’s protests, begging him to fuck you, grinding into his mouth, into his fingers as he works orgasm after orgasm out of your heaving body. Through your blurry eyes, you can see the way his hips thrust gently into the mattress, fucking himself into your sheets as he eats you out, groaning into your pussy as you gush down his face. It’s fucking maddening.

He lines himself up, pressing into you gently, so gently, but God, it’s already too much. Too fucking much. You gasp as the thick head of his cock presses into your entrance, spreading you so much wider than his fingers, wider than you’ve ever been stretched. It fucking stings, and you dig your nails into Frankie’s shoulders as you try to take it for him.

He only sinks in halfway before your body just can’t take it anymore, squeezing him so tight that he can’t possibly move deeper. Tears spring to your eyes at the feeling of it, and you try to apologize, but Frankie only leans down to seal his mouth to yours, kissing the breath out of your lungs.

“Feels so fucking good,” he mutters against your lips, sounding so fucking wrecked, and you throb around him at the sound of it. “Your little pussy is so fucking tight.”

You feel lightheaded at the destroyed rasp of his voice, and when he moves, you feel lightning rocket up your spine, whining loudly against his lips. He grins, the shy boy from the bar long gone as he thrusts until he’s halfway in again, fucking you on only half his cock as you keen beneath him. You have no idea how he’ll ever fit inside completely, how just half of him fills you up more than anyone else ever has. “Wanna take all of you,” you gasp, “want it all inside, fuck, Frankie, please.”

He shushes you gently, smoothing his hands down your sides. “Mi amor, we need more time to get you ready,” he murmurs softly. “Next time, baby, next time.”

He fucks you just like that, breaking you open with just half of his cock and fisting the base in a large, warm palm until you squeeze around him with your orgasm. When you beg him to cum inside you, he groans, pumping you full, gripping tight to your thighs. You promise yourself that next time you'll take all of him.

The first time you take Frankie, really, truly take him, you think that he’s more affected than you are.

You’re so wet, dripping down your thighs from Frankie’s endless preparation, his lips shiny with your slick as he leans down to kiss you slowly, deliberately. You find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself.

He’s been fucking you on his thick fingers for what seems like hours, spreading you so wide, wide enough that you thought you’d break.

You don’t know how many times he’s made you cum, how many times he’s told you that it’ll make you looser, get you ready. You think he just likes watching you fall apart, his eyes blown wide as you tremble against the sheets.

When he finally, finally notches the thick tip of his cock against your entrance, pushing forward slowly, you try to brace yourself for pain. It’s so much, he’s so much, and it should hurt, fuck, you should feel like you’re being ripped apart.

But your mind is foggy with desperation, your need to finally fit him inside, that you can barely feel the pain at all. You can only gasp for air as his cock stretches you wide, pressing in so deep it’s like you can feel it in your lungs. And he just slides in, easy as that, as if it was easy all along.

And as much as you moan and gasp, your fingers clutching into the skin of his back, it is nothing compared to the way Frankie fucking whines at the feeling of it, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he stills his hips, pressed in as deep as he can get.

“Fuck me, please, oh my God, Frankie,” you gasp, grinding your hips against his on pure instinct, desperate to get him in deeper, somehow. But his hands tighten on you, gripping so hard you think he’ll leave bruises.

“Stop,” he says, deep and raspy and fucking primal. “Stop fucking moving, shit, ‘m trying not to fucking cum.” He sounds goddamn sinful, and your pussy throbs at the sheer idea of him filling you up just from finally fitting inside you. You let him breathe through it, raking your nails gently up his back. He shivers at your touch.

You suck air in through your teeth when he pulls out, just barely, only to fuck back in. He does it again, and again, and again, thrusting so deep into you that his cock fucking drags into your sweet spot, not even trying. You’ve never felt so fucking full before.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so goddamn tight, don’t even know how I can fuckin’ fit,” he mutters, pulling your thighs tighter around his hips and pulling you down onto his thick cock with every thrust. “This little cunt is just sucking me in, ‘s like she can’t get enough.”

“God, yes, Frankie please,” you choke out between labored breaths, your vision blurring at the edges. All you can fucking feel, hear, smell is Frankie above you, warm and towering over you, filling you up so perfect.

“So goddamn pretty wrapped around my cock,” he growls, pounding into you hard enough that tears start to pour down your cheeks. “My greedy baby, am I big enough for you?”

“Fuck! Yes, it’s so- it’s so fuckin’ big, Frankie, I can feel it in my fucking stomach.” You’re slurring your words, your brain turned to mush as Frankie breaks you apart so viciously. He reaches between you to rub quick circles into your clit with a calloused thumb, and your body locks up, your back arching so far it presses your tits into Frankie’s strong chest.

“That’s right, honey, just fuckin’ feel it. Nobody else can fill you up like I can, right?” he snarls, and you can only nod frantically, choked moans punched from your throat every time he thrusts inside you. “Cum, sweetheart. Show me how much you love my big cock.”

And you have no other choice but to fucking scream, pulsing violently around him as you cum. You’re fucking lost in it, broken apart in the best way possible, and Frankie groans, stilling inside of your as he fills you up with cum. It’s pure bliss, a goddamn revelation, and you don’t think it’s ever going to fucking stop. He smothers your cries with a kiss, licking into your mouth and soothing you like a wild animal as you both ride out the aftershocks.

When you finally feel yourself start to breathe normally again, to find it in yourself to blink blearily up at him, smiling softly when you see him already staring down at you. As he pulls out of you, you feel the emptiness immediately, whining as he shushes you gently. “I know, honey, I know,” he murmurs, falling beside you and pulling you into him. “You did so good for me.”

“Damn right I did,” you murmur, sleep already weighing down your eyelids. “Who else is going to take that monster dick of yours?”

He laughs, loud and gruff in the most perfectly Frankie-way you could possibly imagine. “Don’t act like you didn’t fucking love it, hermosa.”

And, well, you don’t really have arguments for that.

#oh frankie #sweet husband with a big heart and even bigger schlong #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #frankie x reader #frankie catfish morales #catfish x reader #triple frontier x you #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier smut #triple frontier fic

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ttsukiimi · 6 months

Text

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ೋ ⎯ you request a spicy night of bdsm with the jjk men.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ೋ ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, fem!sukuna x reader, bdsm (obv!), bondage, smut, unprotected sx, multiple orgasms (Sukuna), size difference, slapping, reader referred to as (baby (gojo), princess (toji), woman (hm..I wonder who…)

⟢ ⌒

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 was already halfway through tying your arms behind your back before he got impatient. But could you blame him? Your ass was practically in his face, cunt on display and he couldn’t ignore the hardness in his pants.

“Y’r just gonna have to be good for me and keep your arms like that, ‘Kay?” he mumbles into your ear, already reaching down and freeing his erection of its confines. Toji figured the half-assed job he did would hold you down anyway.

“B-but Toji, the whole point is you tying me,” you pouted, mumbling into the pillow as he pushed your head down. The fat tip of his cock soon slid between your folds, coating in your juices and prompting more slick to dribble out of you.

“Yeah, yeah,” he hums, slowly pushing himself in and hissing as your walls immediately clap down on him. “Don’t need to tie you down anyway,”

One more thrust and he was fully sheathed. Toji groaned, feeling your warmth around his dick.

He slid himself out and pummeled back in, his heavy balls slapping against your clit and causing a shriek to fall from your lips.

“Hm—fuck, you’re so deep..” you mewled, drooling against the pillow his strong hand drowned you into. Toji grinned smugly behind you and gave your ass a hot slap—one that immediately after left a red imprint on your cheek.

“Yeah, that’s fuckin’ right, princess.”

⟢ ⌒

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 didn’t find anything wrong with the idea—rather, he found his cock rising under his sweats at the thought of tying you up. It didn’t help knowing how vulnerable you already were under his huge body most times, he knew you’d be absolutely hopeless and at his mercy.

Soon he was tying your wrists together, smirking at the little whines that left your lips. Though, he was enjoying this a little too much.

“Comfortable, baby?” He asked as he roamed his hands down your back, gripping the fat of your ass, and you gave him a meek but hurried nod.

“‘Toru just put it in already,” you’d mumbled, feeling impatience wash over you, pushing your backside flush to his hips and sensually grinding on him.

Stifling a groan, Satoru placed his blindfold over your eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll put it in reall soon.”

And he did.

But to your surprise and delight, the loss of sight made your other senses more sensitive. Your cunt quivered with every rough thrust Satoru drove into you, and your skin felt as if it were on fire with the way his rough palms grasped at your hips.

On the other hand, he was enjoying this just as much—if not more. You seemed to tighten around him harder than usual, not to mention the very fact that you weren’t trying to run away from every rut of his hips.

And he enjoyed the freedom he had over your body, snaking his hand to your clit, rubbing the nub of nerves in lazy figure eight’s until your body shook, overstimulated.

“You’re not—hah—supposed to enjoy it this much!” You moaned, feeling the head of his cock hit your sweet spot deliciously as he continued the motions of his hand. “‘S too much.”

“Mmm? Nothin’s too much, take what I give you.”

⟢ ⌒

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 wasn’t exactly foreign to the idea. He’s had his fair share of partners and has played into their interests, whether it be in bed or just generally.

But, of all people, his mind couldn’t process why you were requesting such a thing. You’re so small and fragile Nanami just about had to hold himself back every time you got intimate, scared that he’ll hurt you.

Thus, he gives it more thought. Or at least tries to.

But when you’re grinding so greedily on him, begging him in that sugary tone, Nanami can’t think straight. And in the midst of his seducted haze, he follows up with your words.

He ties your arms above your head with his silken and watches as you hopelessly struggle—feeling a primal need to breed you.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he coos as he presses the drooling head of his cock in, watching your face intently.

“Ken, you’re so thick—!” you whimper, mouth agape as he begins to drive thrust after thrust into your poor cunt. Truth be told Nanami liked having your hands tied, but he found himself missing the pleasurable pain of your fingernails scratching down his back.

You squeezed around him so deliciously, causing him to groan. Nanami felt hot inside you, the rhythmic thump of him pulsing one that you lost yourself to.

It all felt surreal, the pleasure, the frustration of not being able to freely touch him—but you knew one thing was certain.

This wouldn’t be the last time.

⟢ ⌒

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 scoffed as he looked down at you. “You wanna be tied up, huh?” he grinned, beckoning you to sit down on his lap.

Stupid as it seemed, his ego was hurt. Why would you need things to hold you down when his arms did just fine?

“Am I not rough enough with you, woman?” Sukuna questioned, his upper arms set on your waist while his lower ones made quick work of ripping your panties off in one fell swoop.

You flinched as you felt the material rip apart but keep your composure. “‘Kuna, I just wanna try something new..” you frowned as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Oh, we’ll try it.” he hummed, your body jolting as you suddenly felt him press against your pussy. “Just my way.”

Sukuna soon had you crying and begging on his cock as you came for the third time that night, rasping lewd things in your ear.

Instead of a rope binding your arms behind your back, it was his strong hands. One of Sukuna’s hands could easily hold both of yours in a bruising grip.

“Ah, ‘m too sensitive, please,” you sobbed out, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as he reached down and began to rub your clit.

Sukuna laughed as he mockingly kissed your forehead. “Give me two more orgasms and I’ll think about it.”

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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months

Text

Just to Learn That You Never Cared

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret

requested/idea by @usoppsstar

Masterlist

“Oh, hey. Your girlfriend left this in class.” One of Peter’s classmates said as he tossed Peter a hoodie.

“Oh. Thanks.” Peter said before realizing what the person had said. He turned the hoodie over in his hands and recognized it as yours. His face warmed up in a blush when he realized you had just been mistaken for his girlfriend. He shoved the hoodie into his bag and wondered if he should tell you or not.

Peter saw you later that night on a rooftop you frequented often. You were in your suit, as was he, but had your mask sitting beside you. You were munching on a bag of chips and wordlessly extended them to him when he landed on the rooftop beside you. He smiled graciously and took a few before sitting down next to you. Your knees were touching but neither of you moved away.

“You left this in physics, dingus.” Peter said and handed you your hoodie.

“Oh, thanks. We had to run out of there so fast to save that lady. I must’ve left it behind.” You smiled gratefully and pulled it over your head. Peter felt bad that his high tech suit had built in heaters and your homemade suit was probably leaving you freezing every night. He wanted to suggest sharing his warmth, but he didn’t want to overstep.

“I know. Thank God she called the police on those kids for selling lemonade without a permit. I’m really glad we left a test to go witness that heinous crime.”

“It’s not all bad. We did get to see the cops arrest her for wasting their time by making a fake police report, which is always satisfying. And the kids gave us free lemonade. But I think calling it “homemade” was bullshit. I know Minute Maid when I taste it.” You replied, making Peter chuckle.

“You’re right. Both those things were enjoyable.” Peter agreed. “But I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel like we have to leave class every other day.”

“I know. Why did we have to pick a college in such a Karen ridden neighborhood?” You sighed.

“Because we wanted to go to the good school with the good science program. We should’ve known the neighborhood would be full of bored housewives who call the police whenever they have a minor complaint. It was our own hubris.”

“It was.” You chuckled and said looked over at him. You exchanged soft smiles before you looked over at the city horizon. Peters eyes never left you and he cleared his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh, my aunt and I were gonna get Chinese food later. At the place that got shut down for being a front for money laundering but that was really just a front for a second Chinese food chain.”

“Oh, I love that place.”

“Yeah. It’s great.” He nodded. “Anyways, you should totally come-“

Peter was cut off by the police radio he wired to his phone going off. He rolled his eyes and checked what the alert was.

“Damn it. Robbery at the bakery on 9th.” He told you.

“Lowkey, I’d do the same. Their cream puffs made me cream.” You said as you put your mask back on.

“Haha, yeah.” Peter chuckled. “Wait, what?”

“You should get some sleep. I’ll handle the robbery. But I’ll catch you tomorrow, Parker. Get home safe.” You saluted him before falling backwards off the building.

“I love you too.” Peter sighed.

“Did you say something?” You asked and popped back up.

“No.” Peter quickly lied.

“Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.” You waved to him and disappeared again. Peter let out another sigh before swinging home.

The next day, you ran after one of your classmates once class was let out.

“Hey, Carly. I emailed you my notes from the class you missed.” You told her.

“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” She replied. “Oh, and could you tell your boyfriend that band practice is in the gym today?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” You agreed. She was about to walk away when you realized what she had said.

“Wait, what am I saying?” You wondered. “Who’s my boyfriend?”

“You know. That guy with the prescription shoes.” Carly answered. You tilted your head in confusion until you realized you knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Wait, Peter?” You laughed in surprise. You expected her to laugh too and reveal she was just kidding but she looked completely serious.

“Oh, right. Peter. Why do I always think his name is Timmy?” Carly wondered.

“Because he looks like a Timmy. He gets it all the time.” You waved your hand. “And his shoes are not prescription. He just bought women’s platform shoes because he wanted to be taller and didn’t think anyone could tell.”

“We can.” Carly mumbled.

“I know.” You agreed. “But, I’m getting off topic. Timmy is not my boyfriend. I mean, Peter is not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever label you guys use, can you tell him that wind ensemble is meeting in the gym instead of the choir room? The sopranos kicked us out again to practice or do drugs or something.” Carly explained. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and tried to figure out if she was joking or not.

“The label? I’m so lost. Who told you that Peter’s my boyfriend?”

“Nobody told me.” She shrugged. “Everyone just knows that you guys are a couple.”

“Well how would they know something that isn’t true?” You asked and folded your arms.

“I mean, it’s not like you guys try to keep it a secret. Between all the whispering and staying close by each other. Plus you’re always sneaking out of class together or showing up late. And if one of you is absent, the other always is too. It’s been like that since high school. People just put two and two together I guess. Why, did you want to to be secret?”

“I didn’t want it to be anything. We’re not even dating.” You insisted and felt like you were going crazy.

“You don’t have to deny it.” Carly laughed. “I know feelings are weird and gross and stuff and you’ve never been the relationship type, but I think this guy is good for you. He brings something out in you. I don’t know. But you guys are cute. I love seeing the nice loser and assertive pretty girl troupe in real life.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” You calmed down momentarily and smiled a little. Carly walked away and your smile quickly faded when you remembered what she had said. You looked around the hallway and saw another student holding an instrument.

“Hey. Band nerd.” You called out to him.

“Me?” He asked and pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. You had to let go of your saxophone case to point to yourself. Have you seen my boyfriend today?” You asked him.

“Peter? I haven’t seen him since yesterday in-“

“That sentence better not end with “wind ensemble” or I’m gonna lose it.”

“It was wind ensemble.” He said quickly.

“I’m leaving.” You shook your head and walked away from him. You pulled out your phone and went straight to your schools “campus sweethearts” page on instagram. Sure enough, there was a picture of you and Peter sitting next to each other right at the top of the page. You had your head thrown back laughing at something he was saying and he was looking at you fondly. You let out a shocked gasp and before walking out into the courtyard to look for Peter. You spotted him on a bench and smiled.

“Yes. Thank you, small campus”. You pumped your fist and went to sit next to him.

“Oh, hi. I was just thinking about you-“

“Someone is spreading a horrible rumor about you.” You cut him off.

“Oh no.” Peter frowned. “What is it? Is it bad?”

“Horrible.” You shook your head. “Peter, they’re saying you’re in wind ensemble.”

“Oh, I am.” Peter shrugged.

“Huh?”

“I play the clarinet . See. Clarinet.” Peter said and lifted up his little black clarinet case.

“Huh?” You said louder.

“I used to play in high school, pre-bite but post 9/11. I saw a flyer for orchestra on campus so I joined.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” You practically shouted. Peter knew you weren’t happy but felt strangely honored that you were so upset over him not telling you something about her personal life.

“Because I know how you feel about band nerds.” He replied. “And you and I don’t really talk about non-work related things. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I care.” You insisted. “My rumored boyfriend has been in wind ensemble this whole time and I didn’t even know?”

“Wait, rumored boyfriend? Who, me?” Peter asked in surprised.

“So you didn’t know about this either?”

“No. I mean, someone did refer to you as my girlfriend the other day but I thought it was just an accident. People think you and me are dating?” Peter asked and tried not to look as pleased as he felt.

“Apparently. I’ve had multiple people refer to you as my boyfriend today. And look. We’re on the campus couples Instagram page.” You said and held up your phone.

“Ew. We have one of those?” Peter grimaced and took your phone to see the picture better.

“Yeah. I honestly think the principle runs it.” You replied. Peter was quiet as he stared at the picture for a while.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. This just a cute picture of us. And I think the only picture of us.” He said with a shy smile. You frowned and looked at the picture again before realizing he was right.

“Carly said people think we’re dating since we’re always sneaking off together.” You told him. Peter thought out this for a minute and then made another connection.

“Ohhhh.” He said and nodded his head.

“What?”

“This explains why the boys congratulated me on the bus back to New York after the Washington monument trip for losing my virginity at a historic landmark.”

“You lost your virginity on that trip? To who?” You whispered harshly and felt jealousy burning through your veins.

“You, apparently.” He laughed. “You and I disappeared to get the glowy alien egg bomb thing back and I guess everyone assumed we were off desecrating a national monument.”

“Oh my God. That was like 3 years ago.” You realized. “People have thought we were dating this whole time? We need to put a stop to this.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Or…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.

“Or?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Or, we lean into it.” He suggested. “We let people think it. We encourage it, even.”

“Why would we do that?”

“People have been suspicious about where we go and what we’re doing since high school. We can only fake so many illnesses and I ran out of grandparents to lie about the death of by junior year. So if people already made up a reason, maybe we should let them think that. We don’t have to go out of our way to confirm it but we can keep the assumption going to keep them from finding out what we’re really doing.”

“So you think we should let people think we’re dating so they stop wondering about what we’re always off doing?”

“That’s exactly what I just said, yes.” Peter nodded.

“Hey. Be nicer to your fake girlfriend.” You said and smacked his arm.

“I’m sorry. I will.” Peter blushed and rubbed his arm. You felt bad for hitting him and wrapped both arms around him to rub them up and down. He smiled softly at you and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“You play the clarinet?” You asked after a minute.

“Squidward made it look so cool.” Peter shrugged.

“Did he?” You asked, making Peter laugh.

“No.” He admitted.

The next day, you and Peter walked to school together with the understanding that from then on out, you were going to play the part of a happy couple. You weren’t going to go around announcing it to everyone or anything. You just needed to convince the few that didn’t already believe the rumor and confirm things for the ones who did believe it.

“You ready for this?” You asked Peter as you stepped into campus.

“I think so. Maybe we should hold hands or something. You know, since people think we’re dating.” Peter suggested and tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter to him.

“I guess so.” You shrugged and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took your hand and took note of the way it fit in his like it was made for him.

“This is weird.” You whispered to him, popping his bubble.

“Why? Are my hands sweaty?” He panicked.

“No. Just really, really hot.” You told him. “It’s just weird that nobody seems to care that we’re holding hands right now.”

“I mean, we are just two random people with almost no social presence.”

“That’s true. I guess I just thought people would care more.” You admitted as you looked around the campus. No one was phased by you and Peter, but he was too busy enjoying the moment to realize it.

“Are you disappointed?” He asked you.

“Yeah. I wore my best bra because I thought I’d be getting more attention today.” You frowned and adjusted the strap of your bra.

“It’s okay. I’ll take one for the team and stare at your boobs.” Peter assured you.

“Aw. Thank you.” You gushed and gave his hand a squeeze.

You got to your physics class and sat together at your usual lab table. Peter looked around the classroom while you carried on as usual.

“Maybe I should put my arm around you. You know, to really convince people.” Peter suggested with a shy blush on his face.

“Is that really something people do?” You genuinely wondered. “I feel like I never see couples with their arms around each other.”

“Actually, I don’t think I have either. But let’s try it anyway.” He said and wrapped an arm around you. You scooted closer to him so that you could comfortably lean into him. You quickly realized you didn’t hate it and let out a content sigh.

“Hm.” Peter made a little noise at the back of his throat.

“What?” You asked him.

“Our height difference makes this hurt my shoulder.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Then move your arm.” You whispered back.

“I can’t. I just wrapped it around you. It’ll look weird if I immediately take it off.” Peter said as he covered behind him to see who was looking.

“Or, consider this. Nobody in this entire city, and dare I say world, cares where your arm is right now.” You whispered harshly.

“Fine. I’ll remove it. But I have to give a reason.” He told you before loudly clearing his throat.

“Ah. Sorry, babe. I can’t cuddle you right now. My arm is sore from band practice.” Peter said loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear him. You hung your head in shame and heard people murmuring about his strange comment.

“Oh God.” Peter gulped. “People are looking. They’re gonna know something is up. I have to put it back.”

He went to put his arm back around you but you stopped him before he could draw any more attention to the two of you.

“Just do this.” You whispered to him and pulled his stool closer to you and turned towards him a little. Your knees and were touching and you were now facing each other.

“That’s it? No one can even see this.” Peter said in disappointment. He thought being your fake boyfriend would bring you guys closer but you were sitting the way you always sat in class.

“It’s not about what people can see. It’s about proximity.” You explained. “We’re sitting closer together than anyone else is without being egregious about it. It’s a simple touch. If we’ve been together as long as people think we have, we don’t need to be wrapped around each other all the time. A simple touch to let the other know we’re there is all we need.”

Peter was silent as he stared at you following your explanation. He stared for so long that you felt yourself blush under the eye contact.

“What?” You asked him.

“I like the way you explain things.” Peter said simply. You quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see the effect that comment had on you and took a moment to collect yourself.

“It’s just something I thought of.” You shrugged.

“I know. But I never would have thought of that. Especially not as naturally as it did for you. You’re so quick.”

“Thank you.” You laughed shyly and found yourself unable to look away from him. Peter opened his mouth to say something to keep the momentum rolling but his phone interrupted him.

“Shoot. Sus-tivity on the b bridge.” He whispered.

“What the hell does that mean?” You asked at full volume.

“It means there’s suspicious activity on the Brooklyn bridge.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to act fast so I didn’t have time to say the whole thing.”

“But you just said the whole thing. And the abridged version. So it took twice as long.”

“Shh.” He waved his hand. “We gotta go.”

You reluctantly collected your things and took Peter’s hand to pull him out of his seat. Peter followed you out the classroom but the teacher cleared her throat when you walked by.

“And where are you two going?” She asked. You and Peter exchanged looks as the class snickered and murmured their theories about what exactly you were heading off to do.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Pepper. My girlfriend and I have to leave class unexpectedly. Please excuse us. It’s urgent.” Peter’s said politely.

“I bet it’s urgent, Parker.” A boy snickered, making serval classmates laugh.

“Gross.” You wrinkled your noses and looked at the boys in disdain.

“Fine.” The teacher sighed. “The only reason I don’t write you two up for skipping so often is because you somehow have the best grades in the class. Go on. Just get the homework done.”

“We will.” You assured her before leaving the room with Peter. Peter noticed that you didn’t drop his hand even when you were alone in the hallway.

“Hey, you know that teachers name is Dr. Zhang and not Dr. Pepper, right?” You asked him.

“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. “Is it really? I’ve emailed her so many times and said “Dear Dr. Pepper”. We have to drop out.”

You laughed and held his hand the rest of the way out of the building.

That night, Peter laid in his bed with his phone held close to his face. He had been trying to figure out what to text you to let you know he had been thinking of you.

“I had fun fighting crime with you today” He wrote out. He read it over before scrunching his nose.

“No. Too cringe. She is not gonna fall in love with someone that says “fighting crime”. I’m not Paw Patrol.” He said like it was obvious. He deleted his text and thought of another one.

“I had a good time today, we make a good team” He wrote out instead. He read it a few times until he found issue with it.

“Oh, you had a good time stopping those break dancers that were obstructing that Sbarro? That’ll catch her attention.” Peter said sarcastically and deleted the text.

“have a goodnight :)” He typed out and then shook his head.

“No. Wayyyy too horny.” He sighed and deleted it again.

“night” He wrote out and read it a few times.

“This is good. I can work with this.” He nodded. He was about to workshop it when a text from you popped up.

“pick a color” It said. Peters heart skipped a beat at the vague message and replied with the first color that popped into his head.

“blue”

“thank u” You wrote back within seconds. Peters heart stopped pounded and the disappointment that the conversation was over settled in. After all these years of fighting crime together, you two never really managed to make it past the coworkers stage. He was desperate for more but never knew how to get there.

“no homo but I had fun fighting crime with you today” You suddenly texted again. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he touched his as if it were your face.

“ok paw patrol” He wrote back. Back in your room, you were laughing at his text and trying to think of a witty reply.

“ur mad bc you know I’m the chase 🐶” You texted him.

“if ur the Chase then who am I?”

“plssss ur such a marshall” You wrote back.

“but that’s the third most important dog :(“ Peter replied.

“well yes but he’s cute and wears red so the little paw patrol shoe fits” You answered. A blush painted Peters cheeks over you calling him cute but he didn’t want to read too much into it.

“Im wearing red right now😳” He texted back.

“oh I bet you are” You answered, making him laugh. He kept the conversation going for about an hour before duty called once again. Peter groaned and put his suit on before swinging to the scene of the crime. He met you there and stopped the crime before stopping on a nearby rooftop to rest.

“These burglars aren’t very considerate of our sleep schedules. Who robs a Jersey Mikes after midnight? Or, like, ever?” Peter huffed as he tugged his mask off.

“I know. They’re always at inconvenient times. I was in the middle of painting my nails.”

“Can I see?” He asked in a soft voice. You pulled your gloves off and held out your hand for him to see.

“Look. Blue. But I only got half way through before Mike’s was targeted.”

“It’s okay. They still look pretty.” Peter complimented you with a soft smile.

“Thanks. You picked a good color.” You replied.

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“I told you to pick a color. This is why.” You explained and held out your hand again. His eyes lit up at this new information and he took your hand to see your nails closer.

“You let me chose your nail color?” He smiled fondly.

“Well I didn’t know what to chose so I thought I’d ask the audience.” You shrugged and felt shy all of the sudden.

“Oh. And I’m the target audience, huh?” Peter smirked and turned towards you.

“I never said target.” You teased him and shoved him shoulder.

“I must be hearing things, then.” He shrugged as you both smiled.

“Yeah. Must be.” You said in a soft voice as you stared into his eyes. Peter gulped before making a bold move and taking your hand again under the guise of looking at your nails.

“Look at you. You even got my favorite shade.” He noted.

“You like “Eating For Blue”?” You pretended to gasp.

“Is that really the name of the color?” He laughed.

“Uh huh. It was apart of Essie’s baby fever collection. I almost chose “All In Blue Time” but that’s one tends to get little air bubbles and they give me agida. And I used to have “A Dream Come Blue” but it rolled under the sink so it belongs to the dust bunnies now.” You shrugged as you checked out your nails.

“Wow. This is all new information to me. So, are all nail polish colors named after puns and wordplay?” He asked as he stared into your eyes. He didn’t really care, but he was finally getting somewhere with you and didn’t want it to end.

“In my experience, yes. Not always color related wordplay but always something that makes you go yeah, I guess this shade of beige is what the word “ladylike” would be as a color.”

“This is blowing my mind right now.” Peter chuckled.

“You mean blue-ing your mind.” You corrected and tapped the side of your head.

“I think you inhaled too many of those fumes. Because that was not funny.” Peter said through a laugh.

“What?” You pretended to be offended. “You’re literally laughing right now. I’m so funny.”

“You are.” Peter admitted when his laughter died down. You stared into eyes for a minute before smiling.

“Is that what you rumored saw in me?” You asked him.

“Probably.” He chuckled. “I also heard a rumor that I think you’re really pretty. Like, the prettiest girl I was ever rumored to have allegedly seen.”

“Now you’re the one who’s looney from the fumes because that’s a straight up lie. I know you’ve seen prettier girls because I was standing right next to you when Anne Hathaway left that diner.” You said without making eye contact with him. Things were moving a little too fast and you needed it hit the brakes for a second.

“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” Peter forced a laugh and awkwardly looked over at the cityscape when he realized you were politely telling him to pull back.

“But I appreciate it.” You said after a beat of silence.

“Of course. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking saying that.” He laughed nervously. “I was just getting caught up in the fake dating. We’ve been doing it for so long that it felt real.”

“We only started this morning.” You reminded him.

“Right. Well, it’s late. I’m gonna go home.” He said quickly and stood up. He had just blown that and needed to leave as quickly as possible.

“Okay. Goodnight. See you at school.” You called after him. Peter swung home with tears in his eyes and went straight to bed, missing your text about having fun fighting another crime.

The next day at school, Peter decided to start over and push last night from his mind. He played the part of your boyfriend to the best of his abilities and opened every door, pulled out every seat, and carried ever book for you all day long. Then he did it the next day, and the day after that. He kept his mouth shut about his feelings day in and day out no matter how painful it was getting. You and Peter had finally moved past the coworker stage and become real friends so he didn’t want to sabotage it all by telling you that he spent his days wishing for more.

“What are your plans tonight?” You asked him one day as you walked out of class together.

“My aunt is going out with her friends so I was probably gonna watch a movie on my couch. But on my laptop with my earbuds in. Likely in my boxers. Likely with an entire package of Twizzlers. Why?”

“Well I was gonna suggest that we hang out but you sound booked.”

“Really? You want to hang out?” Peter asked with much more enthusiasm than he intended.

“If you want. I’m not doing anything as exciting as boxers and Twizzlers.”

“I would love to. I’ll put on pants for you. I promise.”

“Sounds good.” You laughed. “Text me your address, okay?”

“Sure. Or you could walk with me now. Unless you’re tired of me and need a break before we hang out.” Peter suggested as you left campus together.

“It’s funny you say that. I was just telling my mom the other day that I never get tired of you.” You said casually.

“You..you don’t?” Peter’s face heated up as he followed you down the sidewalk.

“I don’t. I usually need a break from other people if we’ve been together awhile but it’s different with you. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my social battery if that makes sense.“

“It makes sense.” He smiled shyly as your hands bumped against each others. He was about to make a bold move and take your hand despite no one being around but you suddenly moved it to hit the crosswalk button.

Back at Peter’s apartment, he awkwardly gave you a tour and wished he had picked up his clothes before leaving the house that morning. You didn’t seem to mind the socks and boxers strewn across his room because you were too focused on all the little things he kept on his shelves. You picked up a picture frame of your freshman year high school class that had you and Peter seated right next to each other. Your friendship had only just begun so you often forgot how long you knew him for.

“So this is your room.” You smiled and put the picture back.

“Yup. This is where the magic happens.” Peter said and immediately cringed at himself.

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. This is where I practice magic. Wanna see?” He asked and picked up a deck of cards. You laughed and went over to take one.

“Is your card the ace of spades?” He asked.

“Queen of hearts.” You snorted and turned the card around.

“You’re the queen of my heart.” He whispered.

“Did you say something?” You asked as you looked at all his Legos.

“I asked what you wanted to do tonight.” He lied.

“I don’t know. We have the place to ourselves. We could do something rated R.” You said with a coy smile.

“Like what?” Peter gulped.

“Watch an R rated movie, you perv. Your aunt isn’t here to stop you.”

“You remember me telling you that I’m not allowed to watch R rated movies in the living room anymore?” Peter blushed at you remembering something he had randomly told you long ago.

“Are you referring to the time you watched Tusk at full volume while she had her friends from work over for the first time? How could I forget?”

“In my defense, I didn’t know what the movie was about. And I didn’t think her friends were gonna come into the living room and see that guy getting turned into a walrus.”

“Yeah, the title and cover art gave no indication that the movie would end that way. But that’s not a bad idea actually. Let’s watch something scary.”

“Okay.” Peter agreed and followed you out into the living room. He turned off the lights and got some snacks while you picked a movie. He hated scary movies but he was not about to tell you that. Instead, he sat on the couch beside you as a respectful distance and handed you a bag of chips. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other. Peter had never really seen you scared before but you were practically in his lap just 40 minutes into the movie. You reached into the bag of chips at the same time as Peter and your fingers touched. You both froze and looked at each other as your faces heated up.

“Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.” Peter sighed, making you yank your hand out and laugh.

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and turned back to the movie just as a jump-scare happened. You screamed and jumped closer to Peter.

“This is so scary. Why did I pick this movie?” You asked as you drew your knees up and leaned into his side.

“Yeah, same.” He replied, not even listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. You were cuddled into his side with your head on his shoulder and knees in his lap with a blanket drawn up to your nose. He knew you were only cuddling him because you were scared but it didn’t even matter at that point. The movie went quiet for a minute and then made a loud sound, sending you to burry your face into Peter’s neck.

“Tell me when it’s safe to come out.” You whispered into his ear. Peter gulped and wrapped an arm around you to fully protect you from the movie.

“I will.” He said in a soft voice. You peaked your head out a few minutes later but stayed nestled into Peter’s side. You realized his arm was around you and smiled a little.

“Oh, this isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the main character got eaten alive.

“I don’t understand you.” Peter chuckled and looked down at you. You laughed as well as you looked into his eyes. He was about to say something when another sharp sound from the movie caused you to jump.

“Hold my hand.” You blurted and grabbed his hand. Peter happily accepted and clasped your hand before holding it under his chin. You stayed in that position for a long time and watched the movie. You were both so focused on the screen that you didn’t hear May opening the front door and coming in.

“Hey. I’m home.” She said, making you both scream.

“Oh, hi May.” Peter greeted while he realized it was just her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m-“

“I know.” She smirked. “I’ll just be in my room. But, Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“No going in your room with the door closed, okay? I’m home. And we have thin walls. Just keep that in mind.” She said, making Peter turn bright red.

“Got it, May.” He mumbled. She winked at you and disappeared into her bedroom.

“You told your aunt we were dating?” You whispered to Peter in confusion.

“No.” Peter answered honestly. “I guess she just assumed we were.”

“Wow. She’s just like the kids at school.” You shook your head. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think we’re dating?”

“I mean…” Peter trailed off and looked down at your clasped hands. You hadn’t realized you were still cuddling and quickly jumped off of him. Peters heart sank and the longer he sat in the absence of your body heat, the more upset he felt.

“You just jumped off of me like I was sharp.” He said without looking at you.

“I didn’t want your aunt to see us cuddling and think-“

“And think what?” He snapped, cutting you off. You gutted your head back in surprise and let out a nervous laugh.

“Woah. What’s going on with you? She already knows about your secret life. We don’t have any reason to pretend we’re dating in front of her.”

Peter stared at you for a long time as the word “pretend” cut into him like a knife. Every time he thought you were going somewhere, he was reminded that it didn’t actually mean anything to you.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled and looked at the movie again. You kept your eyes on him and felt guilty. You had so much to say to him but you felt unable to speak.

“Peter-“

“I don’t think we should pretend to date anymore.” He blurted, cutting you off once again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise and you got a sick feeling in your tummy that you had just ruined something really important.

“What? Why not?”

“It’s stupid. No one even cares anymore.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to fake a breakup or anything but I don’t want to hold hands or play along anymore. I’m done.”

“What changed?” You asked in a soft voice. He was still looking at the movie while you were fully turned to face him.

“Nothing changed. That’s the problem.” He said and angrily got off the couch. You quickly caught his hand and he stopped. He looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you if he hadn’t told you what was wrong. He slowly turned around and looked at you.

“Five years ago, you showed up to the same robbery at an all night CVS that I was at and I realized we knew each other from AP Spanish class because I had asked you earlier that day how to conjugate “poner” and you said “pusiste” and I laughed because I thought you were joking but you weren’t and then that night you heard me tell the burglar that he better“pusiste” the money back into the register.“ Peter began.

“Okay. Wow. That was a really long sentence.” You laughed softly. “But I remember that. I laughed and told you that you better remember that for the test.”

“You did. That’s how I knew it was you.” He smiled at the memory. “I failed that test, by the way. I still can’t conjugate “poner.” And I still think it means “boner” even though I know it’s a verb. But anyway, that night, I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited to have met you. Even though we technically already knew each other, that night put us in each others radars. I could not believe that I had met my match. You’re into science like me and sarcastic like me and you understand this side of my life because you have the same side. But despite running into each other on patrol almost nightly and seeing each other around school, I barely got you to notice me. I don’t think you even knew my name until we ended up going the same college. You called me “Timmy” all throughout high school.”

“You seriously look like one. It’s uncanny. I don’t know what it is.”

“I thought things would change when I found out we were going to the same college. The campus is so small I figured there’s no way we wouldn’t become friends. But even then, we hardly ever talked and when we did it was always about work. I didn’t even know where you lived until last semester.”

“I remember that too. The first night we really bonded was when you fell off that roof because you were trying to show me how to do a backflip.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been able to do a backflip.” He admitted. “I only said I could because you said you always wanted to learn how to do one and I assumed given my abilities I’d be able to do one if I just followed my body. But I busted my ass and you were kind enough to sneak me through your window and patch me up with some Scooby Doo bandaids.”

“It was all I had.” You shrugged.

“And you gave it to me anyway. Because you’re kind and compassionate and I’m just…I’m crazy about you.” Peter finally admitted. “I was so excited when we started hanging out more this semester but it always ended up crushing me when I remembered that we just doing it to keep people from finding out the truth. I really, really love our friendship and if I’m ruining it all by saying all this then at least I can die with it off my chest.”

“Wait, now I’m confused. Are you dying?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It feels like I am every time you and I start to get close and then I remember this is all pretend for you.”

“So it’s not pretend for you?” You asked quietly. Peter stared into your heads for a minute and then shook his head.

“No. I was never pretending. I like you.” He told you. Your facial expression didn’t change as you stared back at him. Peter was really starting to panic until a smile tugged at your lips.

“Sit back down.” You told him.

“I’m sat.” He said and rushed it sit down. You nestled back into his side and laid your head down on his shoulder. Peter smiled and rested his head on top of yours, finally pleased with the way a conversation with you went. You both turned your attention back to the movie just in time for it to end.

“Hm.” You huffed. “That was supposed to be us symbolically finishing the movie as a real couple but it appears we’ve already arrived at the credits. Now what?”

“We could watch Tusk.” Peter suggested at the same time you said “We could make out.”

“I never actually saw Tusk but I always wanted to.” You gasped and hit his arm with excitement.

“Or we could do your thing.” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Let me see if I can find it.” You said as you scrolled through the streaming services on his TV.

“Or we could do your thing.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

@itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fake dating #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker x you #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x y/n

2K notes · View notes

angxlofvenus · 1 year

Note

Hii! I saw your requests were open and I thought I'd give you a hc/fic idea:

The brothers (or whoever you'd like to write for) reacting to Mc using their shampoo/ soap in the shower for whatever reason ^^

I hope this makes sense to you lol, anyways I hope you're having a wonderful day/night, don't push yourself too hard, and drink water!! You can also take any creative liberties you seem fit, or if you decide you don't want to write it I won't be offended ^^

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Thank you so much for the request!! This is absolutely adorable, I hope everything is to your liking, Have a great rest of your day/night !! Genre: fluff Ship: Reader x brothers + Diavolo (individual headcanons) TW: clingy demons, minimal cussing, no use of readers' pronouns, second-person pov

When You Use Their Shampoo

Stepping into the shower, You were greeted with the nice hot/cool water raining from above, Going to start your routine, You reached for your shampoo bottle only to find it empty! Looking around you spotted his shampoo and conditioner, surely he wouldn’t mind… right?

Lucifer

100% smells it on you no matter how little you used

Won’t tease you in public but as soon as ya’ll are alone? Ho ho, he’ll never shut up about it

Smug, the definition of smug

You had to go and inflate the ego of The Lord of Pride even more

Very possessive afterwards

Congrats, You know have a scary guard dog demon!

Mammon

He probably wouldn’t even really notice at first

He’d probably compliment how good you smell, Then would slowly realize…

Great, Now he's yelling gibberish while his face slowly gets redder and redder

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack, don’t do that to me!” But will become very clingy

If you say his shampoo smells good, he may lose his mind.

“Well of course ya wanted to smell Like the great Mammon!”

Levi

Poor awkward nerd

He never saw this coming

I think he would realize you used his shampoo but won’t say anything

Flustered to the max

You have broken him

Levi.404 has stopped working, please reset.

After like the third day, You’re gonna have to bring it up

Secretly really likes it, Won’t tell you that though

Satan

I think he is very picky about scents so he knows as soon as you walk into the room

A little bit of a tease, asking if you were trying out a new shampoo

Smug 2.0

He would tease you a little bit around the others but not bad

He would flood you with compliments, You using his shampoo would make him very lovey-dovey

Expect him to ask for ya’ll to just use the same stuff from now on

Asmo

Oh honey, he knows.

He knew before you even got out of the shower.

But that doesn't mean he's any less excited!

Better plug your ears because he will let out the loudest squeal known to mankind

Seriously, Lucifer may come and check on ya’ll helicopter mom

Asks what you do and don’t like about it

He just wants you to feel as fantastic as he does when using it

Everyone will know you used his shampoo, He brings it up in every conversation

Would also 100% ask you to use his bath products 24/7

Beel

Now Beel has never been really into insane products like Asmo or Luci

So he may not really recognize it at first

If you decide to tell him, This man will become a happy demon puddle

He’ll give you a big smile and tell you you’re free to use any of his stuff at anytime

We don’t deserve Beel

Will bury his face into your hair and just stay there

Takes you out to Hell’s kitchen that night just because he loves you so much

Belphie

Oh this little shit

Tease! He won’t quit bragging!!

Smug 3.0

Such a brat about it too, He won’t let anybody near you, Well of course he’d let Beel, but who wouldn't?

He has practically locked you up in the attic with him

Why go outside when ya’ll can cuddle?

Diavolo

Has really expensive products

He may even have a custom scent

If so, He’ll know instantly that you’ve used his shampoo

He’ll bring it up with a large grin on his face

When you confirm his suspicions, he’ll just laugh

He’s so happy ya’ll are close enough to share things like that, You have no idea!

He may make a sly comment to Barbatos or Lucifer just because he’s a little possessive

Will follow you around like a lost puppy, Now Barbatos is mad at you because even less of his work is done

He can’t help it! He just loves you!

Will be the third on my list to offer ya’ll to just share bath products

5K notes · View notes

cooliofango · 8 days

Note

SEBASTIAN SOLACE FLUFF you walk into his shop looking like death, at first he acts snarky as usual, but he feels bad. you were never flashing him with flash beacons or pissing him off. he gives you a med kit for free, and lets you stay to rest. he lets you sleep cradled against his tail, and doesnt want to admit it but he enjoys it.

Not So Expendable

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Synopsis: Reader has had a bad run and needs to catch a break.

A/N: NERVOUS!!! 😂 I want this to be a good start to the Pressure fandom so I hope I did well! Thank you for requesting to help me get started! (And so quickly too!) I hope I’ve portrayed Sebastian well! If anyone who reads this has any positive constructive criticism feel free to share!

TW: Mention of injury, slightly graphic but nothing incredibly gory!

The familiar sound of someone pulling themselves through the vents pulled Sebastian’s attention towards it, the soft light blue glow of his three eyes settling on the rather ragged figure of the expendable making their runs for today. They breathed heavily through parted lips, a bloodied hand returning to their side to return to applying pressure to the deep red soaked material of their suit-- the right side, he noted.

“Oh my!” A baiting tone left his lips, sharp, pearly white teeth visible as he smirked down at them. “Aren’t you a sight to see?” A deep chuckle filled the air that quickly began to fill with the thick smell of iron. He’s seen wounds similar to the ones this expendable had on numerous occasions. This early in the run, they usually stem from a very specific monster here in the Hadal Blacksite. “I thought you would be smart enough to avoid such simple trickery. They’re only Good People, after all.” The emphasis on the monster’s name was spoken condescendingly, humming in amusement at his own play of words.

There was no response from the expendable. Their hand only pressed more firmly on their wound, limping towards him without so much as a glance in his direction. They only seemed focused on the items draped along the length of his tail. Sebastian frowned in slight annoyance, an emotion that showed vibrantly in his tone, “Fine, fine! Straight to business are we? And here I thought we had something special.”

That line was said tauntingly, though his frown softened. The expendable before him was definitely different from the others he has come across- special is quite the stretch, though, no? The first time you came with a group was a memory that stood out to him in that moment of reminiscence. A large and rowdy group of eight came in to purchase what they wished, with a rather infuriating kid thinking it was a good idea to use the flash beacon right there in the room with him. The sudden bright light stung his eyes harshly. He was about to lash out at the kid, a hand raised to rub the stinging sensation away. But a certain expendable’s voice beat him to it.

“Come on! Is that really necessary? You’re wasting the uses on it anyways!”

While it wasn’t necessarily a direct defense for him, there have been many other occasions where you would put your little group in line whenever you went out as a team. Likewise, you would remain courteous when interacting with him when you would make runs alone as well- no matter how much he would try to tease and annoy you.

A slight tug against his tail brought him back to reality, watching as your face went from relief as you placed a hand on the medkit settled dead center of all of the wares he had up for offer, to a heavy sense of worry as your hand moved to grab the price tag set above it. “Something not to your liking?” Though his tone still held a bit of mockery, it waned into something a little softer.

The expendable quickly shrugged off their bag, struggling for a moment to pull the zipper open with their free hand before digging through its contents frantically. Their face grew paler as an empty flashlight and old keycards toppled out the sides of the open bag. A few files were tossed onto the ground, as well as a couple of DNA samples- but they weren’t even half of what the medkit cost.

Sebastian cringed at the sight, an unpleasant feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Sympathy? His jaw locked in place at the thought. No way. Sympathy for an expendable who will only be sent back once again when they’re on the brink of death, only to be healed to be good as new for the sole purpose of doing all again until the people of UrbanShade were satisfied? Absolutely not, was what he decided. It was nothing more than a slightly sick sense of pity.

The expendable in question dropped onto the ground, seemingly too weak to keep themselves up anymore. Their chest rose and fell with each heavy and shaken breath they took, leaning against an empty spot on his tail.

God, they looked pathetic..

Sebastian scoffed irritably, that same awful feeling that started within the pit of his stomach now crawling up his spine. They looked pathetic. He ripped the medkit off of its hook, tossing it in the expendable’s direction. It clattered loudly when the plastic box made contact with the stone floors, only stopping when it had hit the expendable’s leg and bounced off of it, landing it a few inches away from them.

Tired eyes moved quickly to the box and then to him, leaving only a second to wonder before it was hastily scooped up into their hands. Their hands shook from how weak their body was, and their hands slipped from how bloodied they were- but they managed to open it with an audible pop. The gauze wrap was in their hands in mere minutes, struggling to unzip the scuba suit they wore in order to make their most life threatening wound more accessible.

It was then that Sebastian was able to get a clearer view of the wound you so desperately were trying to keep from draining the expendable completely of their energy. He’s unable to tell if the wound was as deep as it looked, or if the wound was just large, causing the blood loss to make it appear deeper than it really was. It was definitely way worse than the smaller cuts littering their arms- most of which have already healed on their own- as well as the large bruise on the left side of their jaw.

Relief caused Sebastian’s shoulders to relax momentarily, his shoulders dropping with each second he watched the expendable patch themselves up to the best of their abilities. He scoffed at himself upon realization. He shouldn’t be feeling that way towards an expendable. He shouldn’t have helped them to begin with! He keeps telling himself this. And yet, here the both of you are.

The gentle pressure against his tail pulled him from his thoughts once more. The expendable rested against his tail again, eyes fallen shut and breathing more evened out than before. They looked far more relaxed than they were mere moments ago. They appeared almost too relaxed.

“Hey, now! Who said you could get some shut eye?” He initially began to tease, moving his tail to start wrapping around the expendable’s body with the intent on lifting them up to wake them. But he stops himself. His tail is wrapped completely around them, but it hadn’t tightened enough to safely lift them up without the risk of dropping them. The relaxed state, in comparison to moments earlier, eased his nerves. Much to his own dismay. A feeling of defeat washed over him, sighing to himself in slight annoyance as he crossed two of his three arms across his chest.

“Very well..” His voice was soft as to not awaken them, watching over them carefully as the room rumbled with the passing of an Angler just outside the room.

#cooliofango writes #oneshots #requests #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian pressure #pressure sebastian #sebastian solace #pressure fanfic #roblox pressure #pressure #pressure x reader

405 notes · View notes

onsomenewsht · 2 months

Text

De pelearnos y odiarnos y amarnos después

About when she was everything for you, but you were just one more fan

《 shout out to @p0orbaby for putting up with this shit, making it less shitty and being the only reason Alexia has feelings in the first place

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 words count: +3.7k

》 player [noun]: 1. a person who participates in or is skilled at some game or sport; 3. an actor: a theatrical performer, a person who plays parts on the stage; 5. a person who engages in casual and indiscriminate sexual relationships.

Barcelona is not that big of a city if you stop and think about it.

Especially when you end up in the same places with the same people, especially when your circle of family and friends is pretty tight. Especially when you work in a world as small as the women’s football one.

You and Alexia Putellas crossed paths a lot of times before coming up with the brilliant idea of braiding and twisting your lives together.

And it was fun.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

“I got your coffee”

“Oh, you’re still here”

The smile on your face doesn’t falter, even if her words will ricochet in your mind for a long time, so you keep sipping your coffee and mindlessly scrolling through your phone after booking your ride back home.

It’s quite early, you know she has training in an hour, but the late-night activities you indulged in must have tired the Catalan more than she expected as you woke up before her.

Usually, you don’t even find her in the apartment when you drift out of sleep, slowly collecting your things and leaving the empty place with a pair of keys to hide under a plant vase.

“I had time to go to the cafeteria around the corner, you slept through your first alarm”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”, it’s not really a question as she sprints up to the bathroom.

It’s known Alexia is quite strict with her routine and her absolute devotion to her passion and profession, you’re not really phased about her rush. Eating the pasties that came with your drinks is a good enough distraction as you leave the blonde to her morning rituals.

Your ride is going to be ten whole minutes later than expected anyway.

“Thank you”, she smiles at you.

When she joins you in the kitchen, already dressed in training attire, it’s clear she will not indulge and sit to have breakfast with you. Not deeming her of a look, you hand the footballer her coffee and favourite treat.

How Alexia manages to turn your day upside down in a matter of moments, just with casually cruel words or well-placed kisses, still goes beyond you.

Her lips on your neck are a proven method and a really effective distraction to keep herself on your good side, she’s out of the door as soon as she hears your moan and feels your shoulders relax under her hands.

The club is packed as you make your entrance, the sudden change of temperature causing a shiver to go down your exposed back.

Despite the number of bodies dancing around each other, you spot your friends pretty easily – the loudest group in the most secluded corner of the place. Laughs and screams are thundering above the reggaeton music as you get closer.

“Here she is, the princess herself, blessing us commoners with her presence!”

“Fuck you”, you hit your best friend Jordi with a forceful punch on his shoulder but a genuine smile lighting up your features.

“Not my fault we can barely remember your face nowadays”

“Yet I still have to look at your stupid one”

He doesn’t mind your hand on his face, annoyingly shoving him off as you take a free seat at the table and greet all your other friends. It’s been a while since the last time you went out with them.

The night gets intense quickly as you finish your third drink and hit the dance floor with Jordi. You two have been friends since even before you can remember, learning to walk together and bonding over shared happy memories and sad heartbreaks.

He was the first person you came out to, not regretting telling him even when he laughed in your face, claiming he knew as well as your high school Maths professor did – maybe your crush was not as good of a secret as you hoped for.

You were the first person he confessed his fear of turning into his own father, not regretting telling you even when you booked him an appointment with a therapist and assured him that people are allowed to not like their own parents, but still love them in some twisted way.

Jordi is a great friend, the one you’re most comfortable with. That’s how you find yourself with your arms around his shoulders and his hands on your waist as the music blasts in the club.

It’s a freeing sensation, to be able to let yourself go in the secure embrace of someone you love.

You knew it was a matter of time.

A strange feeling crumbles from the pit of your stomach as another pair of hands circles you from behind, but you don’t think too much about it. Your body is always reacting to Alexia.

She doesn’t even have to touch you, somehow feeling her eyes on you the moment she entered the club with a bunch of cheering friends.

“Can I steal you for a dance?”

You nod with a smile before turning around in Alexia’s arms.

Jordi shoots you a raised eyebrow and a silent question, not amused with the whole situation and not quite happy with the way you’re handling this relationship with the blonde girl. He’s too supportive to say anything right this moment, but you know he has opinions – strong ones.

“He doesn’t like me”, her hands on your waist but her eyes fixed on Jordi.

“You don’t even know him”

“I don’t need to, he looks at me like I kicked his dog”

The tension is quite annoying for you, so you don’t even dignify her with an answer, merely acknowledging her disappointment by tracing her frown with your fingers. The Catalan hands are firmer as she pushes your bodies closer, following the music and the beats of your hearts.

“Wanna come to my place?”

“I’m here with my friends”, you half-smile, you told her a couple days ago you were going out to celebrate a colleague’s promotion.

“I leave for camp tomorrow”

You know, you plan a lot of your commitments around her crazy schedule.

All Alexia needs to do to convince you to leave the club is move her surprisingly caring hands up and down your exposed back, whispering nice words in your ear.

She has you wrapped around her fingers, and she has no shame in turning it in her favour.

Football is a family business, flowing in your veins for generations with a grandfather who played for Barcelona and both your parents involved on some level in the sport.

You played for a bit, realising quite early you didn’t have what it takes to go professional, but you found your path toward the green pitch anyway. Making a name as a sports lawyer was quite eventful, now you watch a football game with one eye on the ball and the other on paperwork.

Finding time to just sit there, be present, and enjoy your favourite club play without thinking of the legal repercussions is not easy, yet you manage. It still comes with huge repercussions on your mental health, but that’s part of the fun.

When Alexia crushed your life, you thought it couldn’t really influence your already massive passion for the sport. You already watched Barça games, and you even already know some of the players.

Oh, how wrong you were.

The Blaugrana captain is like a magnet, always able to catch your eyes and lock them on her for the entire 90 minutes, filling your mind and somehow making you body reacts to her every movement. You don’t miss a game, you spot her immediately on the pitch or on the bench.

You smile just knowing she’s doing what she loves.

“They better win or I’ll personally go down there to kick their ass”

You laugh at Mapi outburst. Despite her attitude, you know it pains her to be in the stands to support her friends on the international stage, hidden behind a cap. Telling her how much you admire her stance on such an important cause, no matter the consequences on her own life, is not enough. You’re committed to changing the game for her too.

“Three goals are a lot to overcome”, Ingrid points out with a teasing smile.

“What side are you on?”

“Yours, always”

Seeing the Norwegian kiss her girlfriend’s hand puts a smile on your face, making it easier to bite down the bittersweet taste of jealousy for the amazing relationship they have.

Like if something shakes you, you drift your eyes on the pitch right on time. Alexia is going for a run as Aitana sends her a beautiful pass on her left. You’re on your feet even before the ball finds the back of the net and the crowd erupts in cheers.

Then Jenni is on her side and Alexia lets the tall woman hug her, smiling.

The celebration is cut short, there isn’t time to lose, but you can see something sparkling in the footballer’s eyes as she indulges in it a little, spurring the supporters to be louder when she retrieves the ball to restart the game as soon as possible.

Her teammates pat her back as they get back in position, getting just nods and prompts to keep the momentum going.

Is strange, the uneasy feeling that spreads inside your stomach. Your hands are closed in fists but your legs are trembling, as if your body can’t tell you’re on quite cramped seats.

Spain doesn’t manage to overcome the three goals, despite the team’s best efforts. You know the captain will be in a sour mood for who knows how long, and she’s not going to come to you for comfort – not the one you’re willing to give her anyway.

You don’t mean to overhear the conversation, you don’t even mean to be there in the first place.

A national team representative pulls you aside after noticing you on the stands and asks to talk to you – or better, trying to talk you out of a legal wrangle between the federation and one player you represent.

It’s a useless attempt, but you’re not ashamed to admit you enjoy quite a lot letting those men think they can overpower you.

You were just there, right behind the doors.

He guides you just outside the stadium, talking over himself. The first argument is reasonable enough, you can admit, but you lose interest pretty easily.

As soon as the players start to exit the facility, post-game rituals cut short after the defeat, you immediately take it like the best way out of the conversation.

“Cheer up, Ale, let her kiss it better!”, Jenni mocks the blonde with a tattooed arm around her shoulder.

“Shut up!”

“Don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise already”

“No paradise, no troubles”, Alexia mumbles back, stopping by the door.

They’re probably waiting for someone, unaware of your frozen form just around the corner. A couple of steps, and they would see you. A couple of steps, and this torture would end. Yet you can’t move and they’re still arguing.

“She’s around a lot more, she sleeps at your place–”

“That happens when you have a fuck buddy, I can’t control what she does”

You never hear her talking about you with such spite, such annoyance in her voice. Alexia is not the best one when it comes to expressing her feelings, but you think she’d talk about your relationship with some emotion. Any kind of emotion, but this.

“Oh, come on! You’re cute together–”

“Jenni, drop it”, the Catalan’s tone is harsh and final, “We’re nothing at all”

You’d hope some respect is granted with the intimacy of it all.

Well aware your relationship is not defined by any terms, the casually cruel honesty in her words makes your head spin regardless.

You know the nature of the bond between the two of you is built on sex, physical attraction, and convenience for more than one reason.

When a couple of players finally exit the facility, Alexia is in the back of the group with a deep frown on her face. Your eyes meet immediately and you can easily tell she wishes you could disappear as much as you do.

“Are you fucking joking?”

“I said I’m sorry!”, the blonde scoffs as she reaches for her abandoned shirt in a corner of your bedroom.

Hiding the marks on your neck and on her thighs will be more difficult.

“That’s it, you say you’re sorry and that’s it for you”, you fear she doesn’t even know what she’s sorry for.

“I genuinely don’t understand, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to fucking care!”, you rise from your bed, marching toward her before she has the time to leave the room – not minding the height she has on you, “I want you to at least acknowledge your mistake, to really apologise for disrespecting–”

“My mistake?”

When she snorts right on your face, you lose it, shaking your head in disbelief. It’s pretty easy to believe though, it’s not the first time Alexia does or says something that genuinely hurts you and doesn’t even realise what the problem is.

This one time her dismissive behaviour and stubbornness are a bit too much.

The athlete tries to get your attention back, seeing you dressing up and pretending she’s not even in the room anymore.

It takes everything on you to ignore her hands and pleading words.

“You’re overreacting”

“You really should go, Alexia”

“Can we talk about it?”

“About what? You don’t think you have anything to apologise for, you have no idea how much you keep hurting me. Fuck, you were ready to leave a moment ago!”

Opening the front door for her, you feel her eyes studying your body as to read your mind and her action burning inside you in a way you can just hope will not scar you permanently.

Alexia has so much power over you.

You want to hold it all against her, keeping close to the last amount of respect you have for yourself. You want to scream in her face how disregarding she is, how much she keeps shaming your relationship. You want to lay out for her all the actions and all the feelings she has shown you so far, both full of love and full of shit.

“I’ll call tomorrow”

“Please, don’t”, you plead as you invite her to leave one more time.

“Then happy birthday”

Her lips on your forehead burn like a mark.

“This is bullshit!”, Alexia mumbles as she drops the papers with the speech you helped her write and rehearse for the past hour.

She has an interview on a famous British sports TV show in a couple of days, they give her a whole segment to talk about the development of women’s football in Europe, about her foundation, and her plans for the future. Then they informed her she should do it in English.

“I think is impressive you can hold your own in your third language, but you can’t pronounce this phrase to save your life”

“I think you’re making fun of me”

“I am, indeed”, you admit with a genuine smile on your face, reaching for her speech to find a way around the words for her.

The footballer watches as you revise the script one more time, her frustration softened looking at your pen dancing around the papers and your tongue trapped between your lips – a sign of your focus, she learned.

“I will cook dinner while you’re on it”, she states, rising from the spot on the sofa before you can meet her eyes.

It happens sometimes, Alexia could prove to you her effort, even her care, with nice little gestures out of nowhere.

A full breakfast could appear on your kitchen table as you wake up late after a long and rough night with the blonde, who left the apartment with the first rays of sunshine.

A ticket for a concert could light up your phone with a few days’ notice, making you cancel any plan and jumping in anticipation for what looks a lot like an actual date.

A bunch of flowers could be delivered at your place without an apparent reason, following weeks of radio silence, but you learned to read her inability to express gratitude with words when you hold her body and soul firmly after a particularly tough training session or media day.

There could be random gestures and small details, making you feel a fleeting sense of stability and a bittersweet taste of how it could be to be loved by Alexia.

“I think she could actually love you, if she tries”, Jordi states out of nowhere, half-empty drink in his hand and eyes fixed on your friends having their first dance.

“Excuse me?”

“The fucking queen of football”

“Yeah, I figured. Where’s that even coming from?”

Trembling hands find invisible creases to smooth on your dress, not a good enough distraction from everything around you. Your friends really went on and beyond with the wedding reception, soft music surrounding them as basically all the guests form a circle around couple.

“Just saying”

“You don’t even like her”, you bite back.

“I don’t like how she makes you feel”

“She makes me feel good too”

Letting her hurt you in the process, waiting for a change of heart that may never happen, makes you hate yourself a little bit. Never Alexia, just yourself.

The pity you let wash over yourself is enough to turn your cheeks red with embarrassment and something else you’re not quite ready to admit.

You know she’d love you, the signs are all there.

You know she knows too.

“You should put yourself first”, he finds your hand, holding it firmly.

The music changes subtly as your friends start to join the couple at the centre of the dance floor with their partner.

“You should go dance with Angelica, she can put up with you only so much”

You start to question if your love alone can bridge the gap between your lives.

Alexia welcomes you into her apartment more often, having dinner or sharing silent coffees in the morning instead of just letting you stay long enough to satisfy your needs.

And then fall off the face of the earth, ignoring your futile attempts to reach out.

Alexia invites you to nights out with her friends. Her hand holds possessively any part of your body within reach, sending cold stares to anyone who could move too close around you or no less touch you in a shy effort to get your attention.

And then pretends you’re not even there in the first place when someone calls her out on her behaviour.

Alexia saves her jersey for you after an important win, putting the piece of clothing on you herself in the family and friends section. She ignores her sister’s tease to turn the conversation around, talking about details of the game and weekend plans.

And then asks you to come up with some excuse to not attend the same plans she made right in front of you, the same plans you’re invited to by the people she loves most.

Alexia gives you something that looks a lot like love and then takes it all back, ripping away your affection and care without looking back at your deeming light.

“We need to talk”, she greets you into her apartment with unusual gravity and her lips curved at a strange angle.

“Hello to you too”

Fighting fire with fire is one thing you had to learn as your relationship with the Catalan grew, both in your heart and in your life – intertwining and rubbing off every single moment of your day and night.

Alexia takes the cold shoulder with almost a guilty nod, knowing inside she’s the reason for your harsh words and uneasy attitude around everyone lately. You show her colours she didn’t even know existed, and she manages to take them away from you.

“We should stop this”

You turn her voice off as soon as you register her decision.

The footballer tells you that this relationship, this agreement, isn’t working anymore. That you’re hurting each other. That she’s hurting you. She admits she needs to focus on herself, on giving everything she still has in her career.

She says you deserve better, you deserve someone who gives you as much attention and care as you give to them.

Not a sentence, not a single word, or apology matters.

A wave of shame washes over you as soon as you realise she has to be the one to end it all, granting you more respect than you had for yourself.

You stop her speech midway with a raised hand, you accept her decision with a knowing grimace, and you leave her apartment without looking back – allowing her to make any trace of tears disappear from her face.

In the weeks that followed, it became clear how deeply your lives intertwined over the time you spent together.

You have to buy a new set of your favourite body wash, your last one still in Alexia’s bathroom. The book you’re reading is still unfinished, letting you questioning if the sister was actually the murderer, as you remember you left it face down somewhere in her apartment. You accept the promotion they offered you months ago, booking a one-way ticket for a city that’s definitely not Barcelona but looks a lot like a new beginning.

You park up memories and try to let go of the hurt, both for yourself and for the end of something you know it’d be beautiful.

It was beautiful, but it was ugly and painful too.

When you find yourself in the stands of a filled stadium, surrounded by high-profile men in suits and the most influential people in football, you can’t hold back your genuine smile as soon as Alexia scores a last-minute goal, securing her team the victory.

You’ll always be Alexia’s supporter, even if that’s the only rule you’ll ever play in her life.

fine.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso community #ap11 #woso #woso imagine #here we go again #i hate this for so many reasons #if you find the mistakes and the typos and the shitty english #just ignore them #my wo(rd)so

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azrielslittleslut · 1 month

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your request are open? Cause I have a request.

Can’t stop thinking about an Azriel x reader fic where the reader is new to the Ic, she’s quiet, out spoken and reserved in group settings

but when az gets her alone, while shes nervous and doesn’t immediately come out of her shell… Az becomes a bit enamoured with her and knows there’s more then meets the eye with her. He starts approaching her and showing her he sees her even when she tries to hide in his shadows…he starts to feel the beginning of the bond and feels it in every little thing she does. How she hides in his shadows without knowing and his shadows grow really fond of her. eventually after all his hard work and giving her all his attention( which makes her really flustered at first and Az thinks it’s adorable) when she trusts him she opens up to him and is a chatter box and so bubbly and loud and speaks her mind shares all her interest and hobbies and she’s super smart and has really good ideas for velaris that Az wants to tell Rhys etc

And then then they find out their mates and the first time they fuck reader is shy once more and doesn’t want to be loud and moan and az obviously won’t have that so he makes her feel so good she can’t help but moan she simply can not hold her noises in and az praises her for it and she blushes and now Az takes great pride in the fact that he’s able to make her loud and everyone else thinks shes so quiet (Just like az is viewed as quiet so he saw you even when you tired to hide in the shadows fade into the background like he so often does) and he’s also a freak so you know Az pulled out all the tricks to make her so blissed out in pleasure that she got out of her own head and let him hear all her pretty noises …Anyway just a thought, if your comfortable writing this smut with plot fic 😂 your writing is the best and I’d be gagged if this gets brought to life and shows up on the timeline

"Always the Quiet Ones"

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, porn with plot, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), use of pet names, fluff

Word Count: 4k

a/n: thanks for your kind words, anon! I hope this lives up to your expectations!

Enjoy!

"And what happened then, Cassian?" Mor asked, her bubbly voice echoing throughout the living room of the townhouse. "Did you kill the beast, or did you let it get away?"

Cassian clapped his large hands together, and the sound made you jump slightly in your seat. "You know I killed it, of course!" he exclaimed in a loud voice.

"Come on, Cass," Rhys drawled from his chair next to the fireplace. "Tell the truth. Nobody has been able to kill a beast like that for centuries, so I find it hard to believe your story."

You sighed as Cassian made a noise deep in his throat, your mind trailing off as he started to defend himself against his family's accusations. You took a small sip of your drink as you rubbed your temple with your free hand.

Why was the Inner Circle so... loud?

You had been recently hired by Rhys to help him with the Night Court’s finances. You had always been good with money, and you had been a valuable asset in the Winter Court, which was your home.

But you had wanted a change of scenery, growing tired of the endless snow and cold air, so you had put your information out, searching for a job elsewhere. It hadn’t taken long for the High Lord of the Night Court to respond, claiming he needed help getting the economy of his court back into good shape. It had fallen apart after the War, and you were beside yourself with happiness when he had hired you.

Rhys had quickly introduced you to his Inner Circle, and you had smiled at them, your heart racing with fear as you introduced yourself. You loathed talking, especially to strangers. You were somewhat awkward and very quiet, usually sticking to the shadowed corners of the room just to stay away from prying eyes.

But with the Inner Circle, that was nearly impossible. Nesta had her special way of always pulling you into unwanted conversations. Feyre would always ask your opinion on her paintings, even though you knew nothing about art. Mor would tell you horrible jokes, always expecting a laugh in response.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like them. They were all so nice, and they were slowly becoming your friends. Perhaps, one day, you might even call them your family. But you were a quiet person overall, and their boisterous personalities were too much to handle sometimes.

“Enjoying yourself?” Azriel asked, his deep voice low.

You jumped slightly, your hand going to your chest. "Azriel," you gasped. "You snuck up on me."

He chuckled, his hazel eyes bright. A ghost of a smile graced the corner of his mouth as he said, "Well, it is my job to sneak up on people."

Azriel was the only one in the Inner Circle who you didn't mind being around. Like you, he was quiet and outspoken, always keeping to himself. Despite your usual introverted demeanor, you found yourself drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

It didn't help that he was absolutely beautiful.

Black hair, golden-brown skin, full lips. Eyes like molten gold with spots of green and brown... He was breathtaking.

You shook your head, pulling yourself out of your own thoughts. "Well, you're very good at it," you said, and you cursed yourself as soon as the words left your mouth. You were horrible at having conversations, and it was even worse with Azriel staring at you like he was.

Azriel laughed again. "You didn't answer my question." As he spoke, one of his shadows darted out to play with a strand of your hair.

The odd gesture from the shadow felt... comforting, and it gave you enough confidence to say, "No. I'm not enjoying myself. It's too loud, but Feyre invited me tonight, so I don't want to upset her by leaving."

He nodded once, a strand of dark hair falling across his brow. "At least you're honest," he said as his eyes scanned the room, full of soft affection as he looked at his family. "That's something I envy about you."

You smiled softly as you felt a warmth enter your chest, chasing away the cold emptiness you had felt since moving to the Night Court. You truly loved it here, but you had felt so lonely, and you spent most of your days with your face buried in the finance books.

"If you ever need a break from the noise," Azriel said, pulling you from your thoughts, "you can find me in the shadows. It's always... quiet there."

You raised your glass to him, a full smile on your lips now. "I think I'll take you up on that, shadowsinger."

---

Azriel groaned quietly, his shadows restlessly swarming around him as the family gathering raged on. The drinks were flowing freely tonight, and he was sure all of Velaris could hear Feyre's drunken laughter.

He stood from his seat, aiming for the door, but he stopped once he saw you sitting in the corner next to a bookshelf. It was obvious that you were trying to hide, and he couldn't help but smile to himself at the sight of it. He had been in the same position for hundreds of years, always wanting to stay in the shadows, and he found it amusing coming from you.

With a deep breath, Azriel winnowed into the shadows, appearing right next to you. He stayed quiet as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, "You will have to try harder than that to stay hidden, especially from me."

You jumped, and he smiled, content with the fact that he could sneak up on you so easily. "Who says I was trying to stay hidden?" you snapped back. "I just like to observe. I'm not one to be... in the middle of all of that."

Az leaned against the shelf, his eyes studying your face. He couldn't deny how pretty you were, with those full lips and expressive eyes. He had been drawn to you from the first time Rhys introduced his new bookkeeper to the Inner Circle, but he had kept his distance, deciding it was best to stay away.

Yet, here he was, always seeking you out in the shadows of the family gatherings. There was something different about you, but he couldn't place his finger on it.

"Well," Azriel said, his voice low, "we have that in common, at least. How about we leave, and go somewhere more quiet?"

You paused for a second, your eyes shadowed. "I'm fine, Az," you murmured. "Go be with your family. I'm not in a very talkative mood tonight."

Az blinked, unable to think of anything to persuade you to go with him. "Very well," he said at last, lowering his head in a mock bow. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

He walked away, once again taking his seat next to Cassian, who was talking to Mor about a new sword he had bought. Normally, Az would have been interested in the conversation, but his attention was still occupied with you.

You were still sitting in the same spot, your face hidden in the shadows. His shadows, he realized. They swarmed around your body, content to hide you from the loud conversations going on in the living room. You didn't seem to notice the dark tendrils swirling around your body as if you were used to hiding away like this.

That's odd, Azriel thought to himself. Nonetheless, he made a vow to himself in that moment. He was going to do whatever it took to bring you out of your shell.

---

You sighed as you looked down at the paper in front of you, the numbers blending together as your eyes grew weary. You had been trying to do these calculations for what seemed like hours, but you had made no progress whatsoever.

"How did the finances get so messed up?" you grumbled to yourself as you placed your face in your hands. "This is impossible."

"Nothing is impossible," said a voice from the doorway. You raised your head just enough to see Azriel leaning against the doorframe of the library, his wings tucked in tight. He was dressed in his leathers, and his shadows were swirling around him. He looked so handsome like that, you thought, but you were more annoyed that he had interrupted you.

You leaned against the back of the chair. "What are you doing here?"

He pushed himself away from the doorway, sauntering into the library on those long legs of his. You found yourself staring at the way his thigh muscles flexed as he walked toward you, but you quickly pushed those thoughts away. "I came to check on you. Rhys said he hadn't heard from you since early this morning, and I wanted to make sure you hadn't died in the last twelve hours."

Your eyes widened in horror. "Twelve hours?" Had you really been down here that long? "What time is it?"

Azriel shrugged his broad shoulders. "Almost midnight." He looked at you with those beautiful hazel eyes of his, and you suddenly felt that it was entirely possible to get lost in his gaze. "You should get some rest. The finances have been in shambles for a year now. They can wait another day," he said, his voice gentle.

Slowly, you stood from the chair, exhaustion suddenly hitting your body in strong waves. You walked over to him, and his lovely shadows darted out, wrapping themselves around your wrist. You smiled down at them as you said, "Thank you for coming to get me. Nobody really knows I exist... Sometimes I wonder if anybody truly sees me."

Azriel raised a scarred hand, placing it gently along your cheek. He raised your face up slightly, just enough for you to meet his gaze. "I know," he said, his voice soft. This close, you could count each of his long eyelashes, so dark they looked like splatters of ink. "I can see you hiding in the shadows, always wanting to keep to yourself. But you should know that I see you. I will always see you."

For all your life, you had tried to stay hidden away. But his words unlocked something deep inside of your chest, something that even the shadows couldn't hide. Perhaps, for once, it would be nice to be seen.

---

Azriel was relentless in seeking you out, always finding ways to talk to you, to bring you out of the shadows. He had brought you food on those long nights when you stayed locked away in the library, so focused on your work that you forgot to eat. He would bring you books he knew you would like, doing anything and everything to see that beautiful smile lighting up your face.

At first, you had been so flustered and annoyed, obviously not used to having someone shower you with attention. Azriel kept pressing on, as he thought it was rather adorable to watch the way your face would redden every time he did something for you.

He had been doing this for weeks now, and slowly, you had come out of your shell, but only with him. You were still quiet and reserved around the rest of the Inner Circle, but Azriel didn't mind- he found that he loved the fact that he was the one whom you trusted enough to be yourself with.

It turned out that you were quite the chatterbox when you wanted to be, and he loved listening to you talk and laugh. He could sit and watch you do absolutely nothing for hours on end, and he would be perfectly content.

The two of you were sitting in the training ring of the House of Wind. Earlier, Az had brought you here, as you had claimed you wanted to see how an Illyrian fought. He had obliged you, of course, unable to deny you anything.

Besides, he rather enjoyed the blush that had crept up your neck when he had taken his shirt off. And he hadn't missed the way you had rubbed your legs together as you watched him train.

"I think the court needs a budget," you said, your voice loud despite the wind. "What do you think?"

Azriel hummed as he sharpened Truth Teller. "I think that's a great idea. But good luck trying to convince Rhys. I don't think the male has the word budget in his vocabulary."

You rolled your eyes. "Maybe I could tempt him with a new jacket. The Mother only knows how much he loves his clothes."

Azriel barked out a laugh, unable to control himself. You always had a way to make him laugh, with your unfailing wit and humor. Everything you did lit a fire deep within his bones. Hell, just earlier today he had been unable to keep his own arousal under control as he had watched you eat breakfast. The way your lips had wrapped around the fork, so full and luscious-

"Az, did you hear me?" you asked. Your eyes were glittering, and he wondered if you knew where his thoughts had gone.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry. What were you saying?" His shadows had wrapped around you as they always did when the two of you were together. It was evident that they loved being around you just as much as he did, as they always sought you out, even when he hadn't commanded them to. They would hide you away at the loud family gatherings, wrapping themselves around your body just enough to keep you hidden from the prying eyes of his family.

Azriel wondered if you had noticed their strange behavior.

You giggled, and the sound danced along Azriel's skin. "I was saying that I think we need to go to Rhys about the budget. Plus, I have some other ideas about ways to improve Velaris." You bit your lip as you looked down at the ground. "Not just finance stuff. I have other ideas."

He wasn't surprised, not at all. You were so smart and intelligent, and he wished others could have the pleasure of knowing you as he did. You had told him of some of your ideas, and he knew Rhys would love them. Az knew that you just didn't want to bring it up to him yourself.

Azriel moved forward, placing his hand on your thigh. He could feel the heat of your skin through the thick leggings you wore. "Tell me," he murmured. "I want to hear everything you have to say."

You looked up and smiled at him, and Azriel felt something tighten in his chest at the sight. "Then get comfortable, shadowsinger. You're in for a long night."

---

Azriel pushed you against the wall of his bedroom, his breath hot against your skin as he trailed kisses down your neck. "Are you sure about this, love?" he asked, his voice low with desire.

You threw your head back against the wall, your eyes closed as his lips moved against your sensitive flesh. "Yes," you gasped. "I want you. Please."

Over the past few weeks, you and Azriel had grown closer, and you could no longer deny your obvious attraction to him. He had taken you on dates out on Velaris. He had taken you flying across the Illyrian mountains.

Azriel had brought you to life in ways that you never could have imagined. He had brought you out of that quiet shell that you had lived in for centuries, and you wanted to tie yourself to him in every way possible.

He groaned as he lifted you up, moving his hands down to your thighs to wrap them around his waist. "I love the sound of you begging," he said. He carried you over to his bed, dropping you gently onto the mattress.

You laughed softly as you reached for him, pulling his strong body down to yours. "Don't get used to it," you whispered against his lips, your hands moving to the fastenings that held his leathers closed.

He chuckled as he moved his hands to help you with the fastenings. "We'll see about that, angel." The dark glimmer in his eyes told you that he was going to do whatever it took to hear you beg again, and you wanted to laugh at the sight.

He might have shattered the quiet walls you had built around yourself, but he could never take your stubbornness away.

You weren't entirely sure how the rest of your clothes were discarded, only that you were lying on his bed, and he had his head between your legs. You couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips as he dove his tongue into your folds, torturing you with pleasure.

"Please, Az," you whimpered. "More."

You felt Azriel smile against your cunt. "There's that begging that I love," he said as he moved his tongue up to circle your clit.

You covered your mouth with a hand to keep from crying out in pleasure. You felt one of his shadows trail up your body, wrapping itself around your wrist. You didn't fight as it pulled your hand away from your mouth at the same time that Azriel thrust one of his long fingers into you. You whimpered again as you felt him curl it inside of you, hitting that sweet, spongy spot along your inner walls.

"Be loud for me," Azriel murmured, his face still buried in your pussy. "Let me hear you."

You shook your head, too afraid of the sounds that would come out of your mouth if you lost control. You were in Azriel's bedroom in the House of Wind, and you knew Nesta and Cassian were right down the hall. What if they heard you?

Azriel, who seemed very intent on his task, added another finger, curling it deep inside of you. He sucked on your clit at the same time, and your vision went white with pleasure. "Oh, fuck," you moaned, your back arching off the bed. "Yes, yes, yes."

"My good girl," he groaned as he continued to wring pleasure from your body, only stopping once you shattered from your climax. You were unable to stop the moans and screams that escaped your lips as you came, not giving a damn who heard you.

Azriel crawled up your body, laying a trail of sloppy kisses along your stomach and chest. He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he reached down and swiped a hand through your release. You watched with blurry eyes as he coated his cock with it, preparing himself.

"Relax for me, love," he murmured as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I will be gentle."

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, careful of his wings, as you leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips. "I love you, Azriel," you whispered to him. "And I trust you."

Azriel sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide as he looked down at you. You gasped as you felt something tighten in your chest, as if a cord was there, being stretched. You felt that cord reach out from your body, the bridge of connection between your soul and Azriel's.

"Mate," Azriel gasped, his eyes still wide as he looked down at you. They were full of nothing but love and awe as he looked at your naked body splayed beneath him. "You're my mate."

His shadows swarmed you then, covering your body in a way that reminded you of the kisses Azriel had placed along your skin. "You're mine," you snarled softly, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.

Slowly, Azriel pushed his cock into your dripping folds, and you moaned loudly at the stretch. He was so big, and he filled your body in a mind-shattering way. "Say it again," he commanded.

"You're mine." He followed your words with a powerful thrust, one so hard you heard the bed slam into the wall. "And I am yours."

Even though Az had said he would be gentle, it seemed he was unable to control himself. He set an almost punishing pace, but you didn't mind. You met his passion with your own, and you screamed his name repeatedly as he fucked you so deeply and thoroughly that your breasts bounced in time with the bed slamming into the wall.

A distant part of you wondered if it would be broken come morning.

"Azriel!" you screamed as he moved his hand down to your lower belly, pressing down gently. The movement caused your eyes to roll back and your jaw to slacken as you felt nothing but him. A string of moans and screams left your lips, sounds that were primal and animalistic.

You had completely lost control of yourself, and it was all Azriel's doing.

"Fuck, yes," he snarled as he slammed into you, his pelvic bone rubbing deliciously against your clit with each movement. "That's it. Let me hear you. Let everyone hear how good your mate is fucking you."

Azriel's thrusts grew sloppy and unhinged as he neared his climax, his breathing ragged. His hair clung to his forehead in messy strands, his chest glistened with sweat- he was so beautiful like this. He looked totally fucked out of his mind, and you suddenly realized how lucky you were that he was yours.

"Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you," he pleaded, his eyes rolling back into his head.

Your body obeyed him, and you screamed as you came, scratching your nails deep into his back as pleasure coursed through your veins. That golden thread in your chest tightened as Az slammed into you one final time, a primal groan escaping his throat as he filled you with his seed.

You held his trembling body against you, your mixed releases trailing down your thighs. Azriel looked at you as if you were the center of his world, his being. "I love you," he whispered, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips.

Between you, that golden thread, that precious bond that linked you to him, glowed brightly.

---

The next morning, you and Azriel reluctantly pulled yourself out of his bed. He had kept you up most of the night with his lovemaking, and your body was quite sore from all the positions he had put you in.

When the two of you entered the dining room, starving from the night's... vigorous activities, Nesta and Cassian were already seated at the table. Nesta was smiling down at her food, while Cassian looked at you and Azriel with a gleam in his eyes.

"Mornin' you two," he said by way of greeting. "Sleep well?"

Azriel pulled out your chair for you, his eyes on Cassian. "We slept like babes."

Nesta chuckled, her eyes looking at you over the rim of her tea cup. "I wish we could say the same. Right, Cass?"

Horror filled your body, and you looked to Azriel's shadows for cover, pleading with them to shield you from Nesta and Cassian's teasing. They had heard you, and you wanted to die on the spot.

Azriel leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss on your cheek, his lips warm and soft on your skin. "Don't worry, love," he assured you. "Nesta and Cassian have no room to talk. I've had to listen to them, and smell them, for the last year." He turned his head to the other couple, his brows raised. "So go ahead and make fun. We will make it very hard for the two of you to get any sleep from now on."

You blinked at Azriel. Like you, he was quiet around others, and you were shocked at his words. You didn't think you had ever heard him say so much in the company of other people.

Nesta set down her cup, her eyes full of amusement. She looked over to her mate with a smile on her face. "I guess it's true what they say, Cass," she said, leaning back in her chair. "It's always the quiet ones."

general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @panther-girl-124

@scorpioriesling

#acotar #azriel #azriel smut #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #dee writes #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #azriel fanfiction #azriel acotar #cassian acotar #nesta archeron #rhys acotar #feyre archeron #mor acotar #sjmaas

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