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fr0stf4ll · 4 months ago

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Flavours of Prythian

Coming from that request

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; Y/N, a talented restaurateur’s life is turned upside down when she forms an unexpected bond with Azriel, the mysterious Spymaster of the Night Court. Befriending Elain, who confides in her about a male she’s trying to win over, she eagerly helps her new friend — only to discover the male is none other than Azriel. When the bond between her and Azriel snaps at first touch, she’s torn between loyalty to Elain and the undeniable connection she shares with the shadowy warrior.

word count ; 7.8k

warning; //

notes; Yoo everyone, here is my first one shot ! Thank you again for the request<333 Should I do a more general taglist so that you guys can be permanently on it. Enjoy it, see you <3

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Prythian was a land of many wonders, from the towering peaks of the Illyrian mountains to the lush, rolling hills of the Spring Court. But for you, the true magic of the land was found in its kitchens, markets, and the rich flavors that each court had to offer.

You had always been drawn to the culinary arts, even as a child. Your curiosity led you to travel across the courts, tasting the distinct dishes of each region, learning from the most skilled chefs, and uncovering the hidden culinary gems that most would overlook. You spent years journeying from the Day Court, where spices danced like sunlight on the tongue, to the Winter Court, where hearty stews and warm bread were a staple against the biting cold. In the Night Court, you discovered the delicate balance of flavors that mirrored the starlit skies above, and in the Summer Court, you indulged in the rich, vibrant tastes that seemed to capture the very essence of the sun-drenched beaches.

Your travels weren’t just about satisfying your own cravings; they were a quest to bring the best of Prythian’s diverse cuisines to others. And so, you did the impossible—you opened a series of restaurants, each one in a different court, each one a testament to the culinary traditions you had learned and made your own. Your establishments became a haven for those seeking not only a good meal but an experience, a journey through Prythian’s tastes and textures without ever leaving their seat.

Your flagship restaurant, nestled in the heart of Velaris, was particularly special. It was here, in the City of Starlight, that you combined the flavors of all the courts into a menu that was as varied and enchanting as Prythian itself. Word quickly spread of the remarkable dishes served within, and soon, it wasn’t just the citizens of Velaris who came to dine—High Fae from every court sought out your creations.

One such evening, as you oversaw the final preparations for the dinner service, the door to your restaurant swung open, and in walked a familiar face—Elain Archeron. Elain had been wandering through Velaris, taking in the beauty of the city, when the warm, inviting aroma from your restaurant had drawn her in.

Elain was known for her gentle nature, her love of gardening, and her keen eye for beauty in all things. But tonight, she was here for something different—a new experience, a chance to explore another form of beauty through the culinary delights that had been whispered about throughout the city.

As Elain took her seat near a window overlooking the Sidra, she immediately felt at ease. There was a sense of comfort and warmth in the restaurant, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself walking over to greet her. She looked up with a warm smile, her eyes bright with curiosity and a touch of shyness.

“Welcome,” you said, your own smile reflecting her warmth. “I’m Y/N, the owner and chef here. It’s a pleasure to have you.”

Elain’s smile widened, and she nodded appreciatively. “I’ve heard so much about this place, I just had to come see for myself. The aromas alone are worth the visit.”

You chuckled, feeling an instant connection with her. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll make sure the food lives up to the expectations.”

As the evening went on, you found yourself returning to Elain’s table more than once, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. You talked about your travels, the different courts you had visited, and the inspiration behind some of the dishes on the menu. Elain, in turn, shared stories of her own—of her love for gardening, the peace she found in the quiet moments spent among the flowers, and her growing appreciation for the little joys in life, like a perfectly prepared meal.

There was something comforting in the way you both connected, as if you had known each other for much longer than just one evening. By the time dessert arrived—a delicate pastry inspired by the flavors of the Summer Court—you and Elain were chatting like old friends, the conversation punctuated by shared laughter and the occasional appreciative hum as she tasted each new dish.

As the night drew to a close, Elain hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I’d love to come back,” she said, her voice soft but sincere. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

You smiled, genuinely pleased by the idea. “I’d like that. You’re welcome anytime, Elain.”

Elain quickly became a regular fixture at your restaurant, her visits growing more frequent as the two of you bonded over shared stories, laughter, and the occasional glass of wine. It wasn’t long before your casual conversations began to take on a more personal tone, with Elain confiding in you about her life, her hopes, and her dreams.

One evening, after the dinner rush had died down and the restaurant had settled into a peaceful hum, Elain arrived with a particular glint in her eye. You noticed it the moment she walked in, her steps lighter, her smile brighter. She took her usual seat by the window, and you didn’t waste any time joining her, a knowing smile on your face.

“Alright, Elain,” you said, sitting down across from her. “You’re glowing tonight. What’s going on?”

Elain blushed, her hands fluttering nervously in her lap. “It’s nothing, really… Well, maybe it’s something. I don’t know.”

You leaned in closer, eyes wide with curiosity. “Come on, you can’t just leave me hanging like that. Spill!”

She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before finally giving in. “There’s… this male,” she began, her voice soft but filled with excitement. “I’ve been trying to get his attention for a while now, and I think… I think it might actually be working.”

You couldn’t help but squeal in delight, clapping your hands together. “Elain! This is amazing! Tell me everything—who is he? How did it start? What’s he like?”

Elain giggled at your enthusiasm, her own excitement bubbling to the surface as she began to share the details. “He’s… well, he’s different. Reserved, I guess you could say. But there’s something about him that just draws me in. He’s kind, in his own way, and he has this quiet strength that I really admire.”

You listened intently, hanging on her every word as she described this mysterious male who had captured her attention. It was clear that she was smitten, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement for her.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, your mind already racing with ideas. “How are you going to win him over?”

Elain smiled shyly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “Well, I thought… maybe I could start by cooking for him. You know, something simple but special. He loves good food, and I think it might help him see… well, see me.”

You practically jumped out of your seat with excitement. “Elain, that’s perfect! And you’re in the right place—I can help you with recipes, tips, anything you need. We’ll make sure this meal is unforgettable.”

Her eyes lit up with gratitude. “Really? You’d help me?”

“Of course!” you replied, beaming. “This is what friends are for. And besides, I love a good love story. We’ll make sure he can’t resist you after this.”

From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. Elain would visit the restaurant every few days, sometimes to try out a new dish, other times just to chat and share the latest developments in her budding romance. The more she talked about this male, the more you could see how deeply she cared for him, and it made you all the more determined to help her succeed.

You spent hours in the kitchen together, experimenting with different ingredients and techniques, crafting meals that were not only delicious but also filled with meaning. Elain would watch you work, her eyes wide with admiration as you explained the significance of each spice, each flavor, and how it could be used to convey emotion.

“There’s a language in food,” you told her one afternoon as you kneaded dough for a loaf of bread. “Every dish tells a story. When you cook for someone, you’re sharing a part of yourself with them. It’s intimate, in a way.”

Elain nodded thoughtfully, her hands busy chopping herbs for the soup you were preparing. “I never thought of it like that, but it makes sense. I want him to know how I feel, even if I can’t always find the words.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for your friend. “Then we’ll make sure every bite he takes is filled with love.”

As the days turned into weeks, Elain’s visits became a highlight of your day. She would burst through the door, her eyes sparkling as she recounted her latest interactions with the male who had stolen her heart. You would listen with rapt attention, offering advice and encouragement, celebrating every small victory and reassuring her during moments of doubt.

“He loved the soup,” she told you one evening, her cheeks flushed with happiness. “He said it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. And I think… I think he’s starting to notice me.”

You grinned, feeling a surge of pride. “I told you, Elain. No one can resist good food, especially when it’s made with love.”

She laughed, her joy infectious. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. You’ve helped me so much.”

You waved off her gratitude with a smile. “Nonsense. You’re the one doing all the hard work. I’m just here to cheer you on.”

But the truth was, you had come to care deeply for Elain and her happiness. It wasn’t just about the food anymore—it was about seeing your friend find the love and connection she so deserved. And as she continued to come back, sharing her hopes and dreams, you couldn’t help but feel that you had found something special too.

Your friendship with Elain had become a source of joy and fulfillment, a reminder that sometimes, the most meaningful connections were forged in the simplest of moments—over a shared meal, a quiet conversation, or a burst of laughter that echoed through the night.

And so, as the seasons changed and the nights grew longer, you continued to help Elain in her quest to win over this mysterious male, knowing that whatever the outcome, you had found a true friend in her. A friend who had come into your life unexpectedly, but who had quickly become an irreplaceable part of it.

Weeks had passed since you and Elain had first started crafting meals together, each one a carefully planned step in her quest to win over the male who had captivated her heart. Every visit, every dish, brought a new story, a new glimmer of hope in her eyes. You were genuinely happy for her, thrilled to see her so full of life and excitement. So, when she asked if she could bring him to your restaurant for dinner, you couldn’t have been more supportive.

“Of course, Elain!” you’d said, flashing her an encouraging smile. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect. It’ll be a night he won’t forget.”

You’d spent the entire day preparing, selecting only the finest ingredients and crafting a menu that would showcase the very best of what your restaurant had to offer. You wanted this night to be special for her—special for them. You had no idea how special it would become, for reasons you never could have imagined.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city of Velaris in a warm, golden glow, Elain arrived at the restaurant with a male by her side. You couldn’t quite make out his features at first, but the way she clung to his arm, her eyes bright with anticipation, told you all you needed to know. This was the one.

As they stepped into the softly lit dining room, you finally got a good look at him—Azriel, the shadowsinger of the Night Court. You had heard of him, of course, through whispers and stories, but nothing could have prepared you for the moment your eyes met his.

Elain beamed as she introduced the two of you, her voice filled with warmth and pride. “Azriel, this is Y/N, the wonderful chef I’ve been telling you about. And Y/N, this is Azriel.”

He extended his hand to you, his expression polite, reserved. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice deep and smooth.

You reached out, intending to greet him with the same friendly courtesy you offered all your patrons. But the moment your hand touched his, something shifted in the air—a sudden, overwhelming rush of heat and energy that took your breath away. The bond snapped into place with such force that it nearly knocked you off your feet.

For a split second, the world around you faded, and all you could feel was the pull, the undeniable connection that tethered your soul to his. His eyes widened in shock, and you knew he felt it too—the bond, the realization that fate had just entwined your lives in a way neither of you had expected.

But as quickly as the bond formed, reality came crashing back down. Elain was standing there, her eyes full of hope, completely unaware of the storm that had just erupted inside you. She had no idea that the male she was so clearly infatuated with, the one she had been working so hard to win over, was now bound to you in a way that went beyond anything you could have ever imagined.

Panic surged through you. How could this happen? How could you possibly accept this bond when it would mean shattering the friendship you had built with Elain, when it would mean taking away the one thing she wanted so desperately?

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

With a forced smile, you quickly withdrew your hand from Azriel’s grasp, the warmth of the bond lingering like a phantom touch. “It’s nice to meet you too,” you managed to say, though your voice sounded hollow even to your own ears.

Azriel’s gaze lingered on you, confusion and something deeper flickering in his hazel eyes. But you couldn’t let yourself look too long, couldn’t let yourself feel what was brewing inside you. Not when Elain was standing right there, her happiness hanging in the balance.

“Please, take a seat,” you said, stepping back and motioning toward the table you had specially prepared for them. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect.”

Elain smiled, oblivious to the turmoil in your heart, and took her seat. Azriel hesitated for just a moment before following suit, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the unspoken questions hanging in the air between you, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes again. You couldn’t.

As the evening went on, you did your best to stay professional, to act as if nothing had changed. You brought out dish after dish, each one more exquisite than the last, all while ignoring the fire burning in your chest. Every time Azriel tried to catch your eye, every time he tried to speak to you, you found a reason to turn away, to focus on something—anything—else.

Elain chattered on, completely unaware of the tension building between you and Azriel. She complimented the food, praised your skills, and even mentioned how much Azriel seemed to be enjoying himself. And through it all, you kept up the facade, kept pretending as if the bond snapping into place hadn't turned your entire world upside down.

But it was getting harder. With every glance Azriel sent your way, with every quiet question he tried to ask you in passing, it felt like the invisible thread between you was pulling tighter, demanding to be acknowledged. Yet, you refused to give in.

As the night dragged on, the tension between you and Azriel grew unbearable. He could sense it—you knew he could—but Elain remained blissfully unaware, happily recounting the gossip from the latest happenings in Velaris, smiling every time she caught Azriel glancing her way.

Azriel's eyes kept drifting back to you. Not once, not twice, but every time you approached the table, as if he couldn’t stop himself. You could feel the weight of his gaze burning into you, the way his expression darkened each time you brushed past him without so much as a word. He knew you were avoiding him, and he didn’t like it.

When you brought out the final dish—an indulgent dessert meant to close the evening on a sweet note—Elain excused herself to step outside for a moment, leaving you alone with Azriel for the first time since the bond snapped.

You could feel his presence before you even turned around, the quiet intensity of his gaze. And as you set the plate down in front of him, you knew you couldn’t avoid this confrontation any longer.

“Y/N.” His voice was low, barely more than a murmur, but the way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine. “We need to talk.”

You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes firmly fixed on the table in front of you. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you said, your voice cold and distant, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you.

Azriel leaned forward, his voice dropping even lower. “Don’t lie to me. You felt it too.”

The bond. He didn’t have to say the word for you to know what he meant. It was a truth that hung in the air between you, undeniable and impossible to ignore. And yet, you had to. You had to protect Elain, to protect your friendship, no matter the cost.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, your heart aching with the effort it took to deny the pull you felt toward him.

Azriel’s expression darkened, his hand curling into a fist on the table. “Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t shut me out.”

But you couldn’t let him in. If you let him in, if you allowed yourself to even consider what the bond meant, you would be betraying Elain in the worst way possible. How could you even think about being with him when she had spent weeks confiding in you, trusting you with her feelings for him?

“No, Azriel.” You stepped back, your voice firmer this time. “I can’t.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Why? Because of Elain?”

You winced at the mention of her name, the weight of guilt pressing heavily on your chest. “She cares about you. A lot.”

Azriel's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Y/N, it’s not like that between Elain and me.”

But you shook your head, refusing to let yourself believe it. “It doesn’t matter. She’s my friend. I can’t—I won’t—do this to her.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was thick with tension, a storm of emotions swirling just beneath the surface. Azriel opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the sound of the door opening broke the silence.

Elain re-entered the dining room, a bright smile on her face as she made her way back to the table. “Sorry about that,” she said cheerfully, oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you and Azriel. “What did I miss?”

You forced a smile, masking the turmoil raging inside you. “Nothing,” you lied, your voice steady even though your heart was breaking. “Just making sure everything’s perfect.”

Elain beamed, clearly pleased with how the evening had gone. “It really has been perfect, Y/N. Thank you so much for everything.”

Azriel’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he finally looked away, the tension in his jaw clear as he nodded in agreement. “Yes… thank you.”

You nodded once, offering them both a stiff smile before excusing yourself from the room, your chest tightening with every step you took away from them.

As you retreated to the quiet of the kitchen, your hands bracing against the counter, the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. The bond had snapped. Azriel was your mate. And yet, you couldn’t—wouldn’t—accept it.

You had promised yourself you’d never hurt Elain. And if shutting down every advance Azriel made, if pushing away the one person the Cauldron had chosen for you was the only way to keep that promise, then that’s exactly what you would do.

Even if it tore you apart.

Back in the kitchen, you leaned heavily against the counter, your hands gripping the cold marble surface as you tried to regain your composure. The bond had snapped, and with it, any sense of stability you had managed to hold onto throughout the evening. The world felt off-kilter, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the brink.

One of your sous chefs, a sharp-eyed female who had worked with you since the restaurant’s inception, noticed your pallor. She set down the pan she was holding and approached you, concern evident in her eyes.

“Y/N,” she began cautiously, her voice gentle but probing, “are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You forced a nod, though you knew your expression wasn’t convincing. “I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice was shaky and unsteady.

She frowned, clearly not buying your response. Her eyes scanned your face, taking in the unusual paleness of your skin, the way your hands trembled slightly as you gripped the counter. “You don’t look fine. Do you need to sit down? Maybe get some air?”

You shook your head, trying to brush off her concern, but the weight of the bond pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. “No, I’ll be okay. It’s just… been a long night.”

She hesitated, still studying you closely, before glancing around the bustling kitchen. “But, Y/N,” she continued, her tone turning more inquisitive, “it’s strange. You always insist on preparing Miss Elain’s meals yourself, especially when she’s bringing a guest. But tonight, you didn’t even touch the preparation. You left it all to us.”

You froze at her words, the reality of what had happened sinking in even deeper. She was right—normally, you would have insisted on handling every detail of Elain’s meal, wanting to ensure that everything was perfect for your friend. But tonight, when it mattered most, you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to do it.

The truth was, the moment you realized Elain was bringing someone special, you couldn’t bring yourself to touch the ingredients. You had let the staff handle everything because deep down, some part of you knew something was about to change—something you weren’t ready to face.

“I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You swallowed hard, trying to find some semblance of an explanation. “I just thought… maybe it was time to let you all handle it. You’re more than capable.”

She tilted her head slightly, her frown deepening as she searched your eyes. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

You nodded again, more firmly this time, even though the lie tasted bitter on your tongue. “Yes, I’m sure. I trust all of you with the kitchen. You don’t need me hovering over every detail.”

She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she didn’t press the issue further. Instead, she offered a small, supportive smile. “Well, if you ever need a break, don’t hesitate to step out. We’ve got things under control here.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I appreciate it.”

With a final nod, she returned to her station, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the crushing weight of the bond you were trying so desperately to ignore.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you tried to push away the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the image of Azriel’s eyes, the way they had widened in shock and recognition when the bond snapped into place. You couldn’t forget the warmth of his hand in yours, the way the world had seemed to narrow down to just the two of you in that fleeting, life-altering moment.

But Elain… you couldn’t do this to Elain. You couldn’t shatter her hopes, her dreams, just because of a bond you had never asked for. So, you did the only thing you could—you steeled yourself, pushed down the emotions threatening to break free, and vowed to keep your distance from Azriel, no matter how much it hurt.

You would be there for Elain, just as you always had been. You would help her win over the male she had been trying so hard to impress, even if it meant denying your own heart in the process.

Because that’s what friends did. They put each other first, no matter the cost.

And as you stood there in the kitchen, surrounded by the comforting sounds of sizzling pans and clinking utensils, you made a silent promise to yourself: you would protect Elain’s happiness, even if it meant sacrificing your own.

—

Azriel sat in the sitting room of the townhouse, surrounded by the familiar faces of the inner circle, yet he felt completely out of place. The evening had been an unexpected whirlwind of emotions, leaving him reeling from the bond that had snapped so suddenly and without warning. He had come here to find solace, to clear his mind, but every thought seemed to spiral back to you—the way you had looked at him, the way you had recoiled after the bond had formed during dinner at your restaurant.

He couldn’t understand it. How could something so significant be brushed aside so easily? He had tried to reach out to you, to understand what was happening, but you had shut him down, leaving him to grapple with the weight of the bond on his own.

The others were chatting around him, the sound of their laughter and conversation filling the room, but it all felt distant, muffled. Azriel’s mind was too clouded to focus on anything they were saying. He was trapped in a loop, replaying the moment over and over in his head—the spark, the connection, the way your eyes had widened in recognition before you quickly masked it.

He was so lost in thought that he almost missed it when Rhysand mentioned your name.

“You know, Y/N’s restaurant is one of the best in Velaris,” Rhys was saying, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile. “Feyre and I went there a few nights ago, and it was nothing short of incredible.”

Feyre nodded enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up at the memory. “The food was amazing. Every dish was like a work of art. She really has a talent, doesn’t she?”

Mor, who was lounging on one of the couches, joined in with a grin. “That’s not even the half of it. Y/N’s got restaurants all over Prythian—one in each court, if you can believe it. She’s become a bit of a legend in the culinary world.”

Azriel’s heart sank further as they continued to praise you, each word driving the knife deeper into his chest. It wasn’t that he disagreed with them—he knew you were remarkable, talented, someone to be admired. But right now, every mention of your name was like salt in a wound that was already festering.

Cassian, who had been listening with a smirk on his face, finally spoke up, his tone playful. “Sounds like Az here missed out on one hell of a meal tonight. Maybe he’ll have to go back and get a taste of what everyone’s raving about.”

Azriel tensed, the comment hitting far too close to home. He knew Cassian was just joking, but the implication—the reminder of what had happened tonight—was too much to bear. Without a word, he pushed himself up from his chair, his movements abrupt enough to draw everyone’s attention.

“Az?” Feyre called out, concern lacing her voice as she watched him head for the door. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t trust himself to respond. Instead, he muttered something about needing some air and quickly left the room, the weight of their gazes heavy on his back as he made his escape.

As the door closed behind him, an uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Everyone exchanged glances, clearly taken aback by Azriel’s sudden departure.

“What’s gotten into him?” Rhysand wondered aloud, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Cassian, never one to let an opportunity for humor pass by, snorted and shook his head. “Probably just realized he’s been a brooding mess all night and couldn’t handle the idea of someone actually having a good time.”

Mor chuckled, though there was a trace of worry in her eyes. “Or maybe he just can’t handle the fact that Y/N’s cooking is so damn good, it knocked him off his game.”

Rhysand sighed, glancing toward the door Azriel had just walked through. “He’s been off since he got back tonight. Maybe something happened.”

Feyre bit her lip, her expression softening. “I hope he’s alright. He seemed… different.”

Cassian, ever the optimist, leaned back in his chair with a lazy grin. “He’ll be fine. Az is tougher than all of us combined. He just needs some time to brood in his room, and he’ll be back to his grumpy self in no time.”

The group shared a few more laughs at Azriel’s expense, but the concern in their eyes never fully faded. They all knew Azriel well enough to understand that when he withdrew like this, it meant something was seriously bothering him.

Azriel’s footsteps were heavy as he made his way to his room, the quiet of the hallway amplifying the thoughts swirling in his mind. As soon as he entered, he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, closing his eyes as he tried to block out the noise, the chaos of emotions inside him.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of your hand in his, the way the bond had snapped into place like it had always been there, waiting. The connection was undeniable, and yet… you had denied it. Denied him.

Why? The question gnawed at him, refusing to let him rest. He had seen the recognition in your eyes, the brief moment when you had felt it too. But then, you had shut down, shut him out as if the bond meant nothing.

It was more than just confusing—it was painful. Azriel had spent centuries in the shadows, watching from the sidelines as his friends found their mates, found love. He had accepted his place, accepted that perhaps it wasn’t meant for him. And then, in the span of a heartbeat, everything had changed. You had changed it.

And now… now he was left in this strange limbo, caught between the undeniable pull of the bond and the walls you had erected between you.

Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides as he fought the urge to storm back to your restaurant, to demand answers, to make you acknowledge what had happened. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t force you to accept the bond, couldn’t force you to feel something you clearly weren’t ready to face.

With a frustrated sigh, Azriel pushed off the door and crossed the room, heading to the window that overlooked Velaris. The city was peaceful, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, but his mind was anything but. He rested his forehead against the cool glass, his eyes scanning the distant lights of the city below.

“Why?” he whispered into the empty room, his voice tinged with a desperation he rarely allowed himself to feel. “Why won’t you let me in?”

But the night offered no answers, only the quiet whisper of the wind as it brushed against the windowpane.

—

The next day passed in a blur. You threw yourself into your work, letting the familiar rhythm of chopping, stirring, and plating distract you from the turmoil brewing inside. The restaurant had been busy, as always, with customers filling every table, their laughter and chatter echoing through the dining room. But despite the bustle, you couldn’t shake the heavy weight in your chest—the bond that you were trying so desperately to ignore.

When the last customer had left, you sent your staff home, insisting that you would handle the closing on your own. You needed the time alone, needed to clear your head without the distraction of others around. As the front door clicked shut behind the last of your employees, you finally allowed yourself to breathe.

The kitchen was quiet now, save for the soft sound of the knife in your hand as you prepped ingredients for the next day. The rhythmic motion of slicing through vegetables was soothing, almost meditative. But as you worked, you couldn’t help but feel the tension still coiled tight in your chest.

You were focused on the task at hand, chopping carrots with practiced precision, when a voice cut through the silence, making you freeze in place.

“I bet you could be good with a sword with how you work that knife,” came the familiar, deep voice, tinged with a hint of amusement. “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be those carrots.”

Your hand stilled mid-slice, the knife hovering just above the cutting board. You knew that voice all too well—Azriel.

Slowly, you turned to face him, finding him standing just inside the doorway to the kitchen, his expression guarded but his eyes full of determination. He had changed out of his usual leathers, dressed instead in a simple tunic and trousers, but there was no mistaking the intensity in his gaze.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension from the previous night hung heavy in the air, thick and suffocating. You could feel the bond thrumming faintly between you, a constant reminder of the connection you were trying so hard to deny.

But you knew why he was here. You had been avoiding him all day, refusing to even think about the conversation you knew was coming. But now, with the restaurant empty and the two of you alone, there was no escaping it.

You set the knife down on the counter, wiping your hands on a nearby towel as you steeled yourself for what was about to happen.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay calm as you faced Azriel. The tension in the room was almost palpable, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy between you. You had been dreading this conversation, but there was no avoiding it now.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” you said, your voice firm, though you could hear the tremor in it. “We can’t do this, Azriel.”

His brow furrowed, confusion flashing in his eyes. “Why not? Y/N, you felt it too. The bond—it snapped into place. We can’t just ignore that.”

You shook your head, your heart aching at the look on his face. “I’m not ignoring it. But I can’t—I won’t act on it. Not when Elain… Not when she’s been trying so hard to win you over.”

Azriel’s eyes widened in realization, and he took a step closer to you, his expression softening as he reached out. “Y/N, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Elain wasn’t trying to win me over… not in the way you think.”

You hesitated, frowning as you tried to make sense of his words. “What do you mean? She’s been telling me everything, Azriel. How she’s been trying to get your attention, how much she cares about you… I can’t do that to her. I won’t be the one to hurt her like that.”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, clearly frustrated but determined to set things right. “Y/N, you don’t have the full story. Elain… she’s not interested in me like that. She’s been trying to make Lucien jealous.”

You blinked, taken aback by his words. “Lucien? But… he’s her mate. Why would she do that?”

Azriel nodded, his expression softening as he saw the confusion in your eyes. “Yes, he’s her mate. But they’ve been going through a rough patch lately. Lucien’s duties as emissary for the Night Court have kept him away, and Elain’s been feeling… neglected. She thought that by spending time with me, by pretending there was something more between us, she could get a reaction out of him. It was never about me, Y/N. It was always about Lucien.”

You felt your heart drop as the realization hit you. “So, you were just helping her as a friend?”

Azriel nodded again, his gaze steady as he took a step closer to you. “Exactly. I was only doing this to help her. I never had feelings for her in that way, and she knows that. We were just… playing a part to get Lucien’s attention.”

You swallowed hard, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place. “She didn’t tell me any of this.”

“She probably didn’t want to worry you,” Azriel said gently. “Or maybe she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. But I promise you, Y/N, there’s nothing between Elain and me. There never was. She’s still trying to figure things out with Lucien, and I was just trying to help her.”

You looked away, your mind racing to process everything Azriel was telling you. You had been so sure, so convinced that you were protecting Elain by shutting Azriel out. But now, with this new information, everything felt uncertain, like the ground had shifted beneath your feet.

“Azriel, I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond. You had built up walls around your heart, walls meant to protect both you and Elain from the pain of betrayal. But now those walls were crumbling, leaving you vulnerable and confused.

Azriel took another step closer, his voice gentle as he spoke. “Y/N, please. Don’t shut me out. Let’s talk about this—really talk. Give me a chance to show you that this bond isn’t something to be feared. It’s something that could be… everything.”

You stood there, trying to process everything Azriel had just told you. The confusion, the guilt, the realization that you had misunderstood everything—it all came crashing down at once. You looked away from Azriel, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to make sense of it all.

“Okay,” you finally muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Now I actually feel like a dumbass.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you cringed internally. But when you glanced back up at Azriel, you found him staring at you with wide eyes for a moment—before a warm, rich laugh escaped him. It was a sound you hadn’t expected, a sound that cut through the tension and made your own lips twitch into a reluctant smile.

Azriel shook his head, still chuckling softly. “You’re not a dumbass, Y/N. Just… someone who cares a lot about her friend.”

You let out a shaky breath, your shoulders relaxing slightly as the weight of the misunderstanding began to lift. But even with the air between you lightened, you couldn’t shake the lingering worry, the uncertainty of what this all meant.

“I just… I don’t know you that well,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, more hesitant. “And this bond… it’s a lot to take in. I was so worried about Elain’s feelings that I didn’t even stop to think about how I felt. About how to navigate this.”

Azriel’s expression softened further, and he took a careful step closer, making sure not to crowd you. “I understand. The bond is… overwhelming, especially when it comes out of nowhere. And I know we don’t know each other well yet, but that’s something we can work on. We don’t have to rush into anything, Y/N. We can take this one step at a time, if that’s what you need.”

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze fully for the first time since the bond had snapped. There was no pressure in his eyes, no demand—just a quiet patience that made your heart ache with a strange mix of relief and something else, something warmer.

“But… what if this doesn’t work?” you asked, your voice small, the fear you had been trying to suppress finally finding its way out. “What if I can’t be what you need?”

Azriel’s eyes softened even more, and he shook his head gently. “Y/N, you don’t have to be anything but yourself. The bond doesn’t demand perfection—it’s just a connection, a starting point. We figure the rest out together.”

You swallowed, feeling the sincerity in his words. The fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind, but it was tempered now by something else—a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, this could work.

“Okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, but Azriel caught it nonetheless.

He smiled softly, his wings shifting slightly as if in relief. “Okay,” he echoed. “One step at a time.”

For a moment, you both stood there in the quiet of the kitchen, the bond humming faintly between you. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t without its complications, but it was something. And for the first time since the bond had snapped, you felt like maybe you could handle this—together.

Azriel extended his hand, not as a demand, but as an offer. “How about we start with something simple? A walk, maybe? Just to talk, get to know each other.”

You hesitated for a moment, the anxiety still lingering, but then you nodded slowly, reaching out to take his hand. His grip was warm, reassuring, and as his fingers closed around yours, you felt a little of that fear ease away.

“Yeah,” you agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “A walk sounds good.”

And as you both stepped out of the kitchen, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—this was the beginning of something worth taking a chance on.

#azriel fic #rhysand #azriel #cassian #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #sword #a court of thorns and roses #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar x you #elain

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jadeshifting · 23 days ago

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— UNIQUELY CHARACTERIZING YOURSELF ( SMALL, IMPORTANT DETAILS )

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

GROUNDING THROUGH DETAILS OF THE SELF

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　

justifiably, so much focus in scripting lies in who you’re friends with, who your s/o is and what experiences you have together, your house and your belongings—but what about you? not just superpowers or your vast ocean of clothes (way fun), but the littlest details of the self. let’s talk about grounding yourself in this new reality. are you glitter-dusted nail polish that catches the light, or someone with chipped black nails because it’s chic that way? does your laugh sound like a giggle, or is it that obnoxiously loud cackle everyone secretly loves?

in a similar vein to why there’s often a focus on scripting imperfections (realism, grounding, etc) these small, “whatever” details are just as valuable in the same way. you’re anchoring your energy into this version of you, “i’m here, I exist, and i know myself inside-out.” you’re not just some flat character with a Pinterest-worthy life; you’re layered, real, and unforgettable. these little things? they build your presence and make you magnetic in any reality (which you’d be anyway bffr)

HOW DO YOU SMELL? WHAT FLAVOR IS YOUR CHAPSTICK?

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　

what’s your vibe in this reality? are you wafting off warm vanilla sugar with a hint of cinnamon, or are you giving off expensive oud and a mystery nobody can place? your scent is a defining extension of your personality, babe, and it sets the tone for everything

chapstick—don’t brush off the details. classic cherry, elegant honey pear, or something wild like coconut-lime mojito? it seems small, but trust—this stuff pulls you deeper into your desired reality because it’s so you. smelling like the softest cashmere or tasting your own minty-fresh lip balm is an everyday, arguably mundane thing that is absurdly easy as a tool to connect you to this version of yourself, and by extension the reality that version of yourself originates in

when you can feel how your lips taste or how your perfume clings to your skin in this new reality? you’re no longer daydreaming, you’re living it. besides, being the central character to your entire narrative doesn’t just come from looking the part—smell it, taste it, own it.

TRYING ON DIFFERENT IDENTITIES

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　

(maybe a less compellingly whimsical reason, but something i’m championing for nonetheless.) switch it UP, babe—WHY NOT? one reality you’re in streetwear with an absolutely leveling glare, and in another you could be cottagecore princess snow white who bakes pies and writes love letters. you DON’T have to stick to one flavor when you can sample the whole menu! think of it like a cosmic dress-up game.

while it’s easy to find comfort in a familiar and ideal version of yourself (pick out a reality where i’m not violently off-putting in a very strange way but beautiful enough to excuse it. i’ll wait), EVERY version of you has something to teach, and a plethora of things you can learn from them.

it’s not about locking yourself into one box. it’s about experimenting, playing, and experiencing all the endless versions of you that you have access to (infinity, thanks)—whether that’s sipping matcha in Florence or running barefoot on a sandy beach. shifting isn’t just moving into a different reality; it’s stepping into endless versions of you.

THE SUM +/=

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　

don’t gloss over the seemingly inconsequential details of the self. if you’re asked about someone you love and know intimately, you probably wouldn’t be like “they have tons of clothes and make so much money” (if they do, good for them tho), the first things that come to mind would be “smaller” (read: everyday things, as a result—MORE important.)

“they talk in their sleep, it’s so funny when we have sleepovers” “they always say yes when someone asks them for help” “they have this one necklace that they wear every day” “they love this one specific poet, they can practically quote her from memory” “they wear gold, not silver”

small things. it isn’t characteristics like bravery, sense of humor, and kindness that serve as the only three blocks to build a linear vertical tower of identity. it’s tiny qualities and characteristics and mannerisms, each seemingly the size of a grain of sand, that compound into the beach that is your identity. don’t gloss over them !! don’t be shy to envision the tiniest things about yourself.

much love !! xx :^)

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

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nysrage · 1 year ago

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Options, Aran Ojiro.

you weren’t used to dealing with someone one who had as many options as you, especially not with anyone you dealt with behind closed doors. pnd inspired lol.

cw: smut, sneaky linksss, texts, jealousy, cursing, arguing, pet names (baby, ma, pa, daddy), dirty talk, missionary (aran loves to look at your pretty face).

it’s homecoming week at your university, the streets and sidewalks of campus are filled with more than the normal amount of students. house parties being planned around every corner, and food trucks and goody stands wherever you turn. it was a weekend to be alive but for you it turned out to be a weekend full of surprises. the night was still young while you put on the final touches of accessories to pull your outfit together. snapping a couple mirror pics away as you waited for your friends to finish their pregame rituals. “one more shot then we gotta go!” your best friend gizelle giggled, alcohol already coursing through her system and you haven’t even left for the party yet.

you laughed to yourself, continuing to scroll through your phone and weeding out the pictures you didn’t like until a text from a certain someone came across your screen. a smile curving into your lips as you read over the message.

‘can’t wait to see you, ain seen yo fine ass all day.’

“c’mon y/n! take a shot with me!” sending a quick reply you stood, waving your hands in refusal, a flustered smile on your face. “you know i can’t hold liquor.” gizelle smacked her lips, grabbing and pulling you towards the island. “bitch it’s homecoming! throw it back.” placing a shot glass with a slice lime on its rim in your hand. filled with nothing but her fav alcohol, don julio. you timidly lift the glass to your lips. gizelle playfully rolling her eyes and pushing the cup to your lips for you to down, watching your face scrunch in disgust with a giggle. “now we’re ready t’go.”

soon as the door opened the smells of alcohol, weed, and other substances filled your nose. clouded over ceilings and music thumping from the speakers while you and your girls weaved through the crowd straight towards the kitchen. where different bowls of punch made by the greeks were lined up on the table, “so what y’all feeling? i’m leaning towards oil, centaur piss or tiddy milk.” your friend gizelle grabbed a couple cups, you laughed reading over the labels. “greeks always come up with the freakiest shit for drinks.”

you settled for the tiddy milk, joining your friends who were drunkenly rapping and dancing to the music. sipping on the pina colada flavor drink as you glanced over the crowded room. eyes being met with low ones that were already on you. chilling against the wall in rotation, black fit contrasting nice against his deep caramel skin. your mystery boo, aran ojiro. he gives you a smirk and a acknowledging wink, leaving you flustered with a small smile. trying your best to focus on your friends but you kept looking back over your shoulder, body feigning to be by his side. the only thing grabbing your attention is your phone flashing and buzzing in your hand with a thread of texts.

‘you look so good’

‘can’t wait to have yo sexy ass to myself tn.’

‘pretty ass’

‘you givin’ me them looks, must be ready to go’

you give him a glance, aran practically eye fucking you from across the room as he took a long pull of the blunt. you throw him a small innocent nod, your friends picking up on the signs and having a silent conversation between themselves. exchanging looks of ‘she finna leave us for some dick’ and longs sips of their drinks in agreement ‘mhmm’. gizelle finally speaking up with quick bump to the side. “leaving soon?” you suck your teeth and roll your eye’s playfully, ignoring your friends teasing to focus on your boo. aran texting you a quick ‘bet’ pushing himself off the wall and getting ready to make his exit until a girl walked up on him, tugging on his shirt to bring him closer with a smile as she spoke with him.

your eyebrow raised with a scoff, eyeing the interaction from across the room. blood beginning to boil at how long the two have been talking. “ain’t nobody worth leavin’ for.” you say to your friend, turning your back on aran, setting your phone on do not disturb and focusing on the group of girl for the rest of the night. trying your best to not let someone you weren’t even exclusively dating get to you, but your friends definitely noticed the slight shift. “you good girl?”

you nodded, deciding to call it a night. you weren’t one to dampen the mood and mope around your friends. “m’ just tired, been out all day..” gizelle nodded, not asking anymore questions and dropping you off to your dorm, ready to listen whenever your ready to share. the drive back was quiet but comfortable, soft music playing through the speakers. you just staring out at the road post in your thoughts. you didn’t understand what was going on with you. yeah you liked aran, but the traits and behaviors you were throwing you off. some were good and some were bad, like jealousy.

an emotion you never really displayed until now, not even with previous flings or boyfriends. you never really had to compete for anyone’s attention, so where you found yourself now was was new.. and embarrassing. “see you tomorrow luv.” you blew her a kiss, grabbing your things and hopping out the car. walking toward the complex entrance, you found aran waiting for you. ignoring him you walked straight to the door, searching in your purse for your keys. “wassup, so you ignoring me now?” you shook your head, back still turned to him as you placed your id on the reader, unlocking the door. “didn’t think you cared whether i ignored you or not..

“you seemed to have a good convo with ole girl at the party..”

“so you gone be like this over a girl talkin’ to me?” aran raised a brow in confusion, turning you around to face him. you gave him little time though, pulling out your phone and texting your friends you made it home. “aran i’m wayyy too drunk for this conversation right now.” but you were interrupted by him snatching your phone out of your hand.

“man look..” he sighed, placing your phone in his pocket. “m’ not about to do this childish bullshit with you, so what’s up with you.” you shrugged your shoulders, finally facing him with a facade of no emotion. “it doesn’t matter, aran. none of this shit matters.” aran’s face flashing with confusion, taken back by your response. “you could wake up one morning deciding to ghost me for that girl who was feeling all up on you tonight, or any of the options in yo roster and it wouldn’t be shit i could do about it. so why would you care if i’m mad huh?!”

“so you wanna pull that card? you know i ain’t even on that timing.” aran sucked his teeth, jaw clenching with agitation. “everytime i show you any type of progress to something more YOU RUN. that shit confusing!” you close your arms around yourself, embarrassed that he truly paid attention to you and your actions. “whatever aran, can i just get my phone.” he scoffed, running his tatted hand down his face with a sarcastic laugh leaving his lips. “now it’s whatever, shit don’t feel good do it?”

“you the first girl in a while that i felt was fucking with me for me and not some basketball wife fantasy.” aran breathed out, pausing for a second before going on. “you ain’t gotta fight for no spot that already reserved for you ma.” head falling down in defeated with his hands in his pockets.

“but you think i’m privileged or this lil boy who playing games..”

“i don’t think your either aran..” you slowly approached him, engulfing him in a tight hug. aran nuzzled into your neck, hands wrapped tight around your waist as he melted into the sweet smell of your perfume. nothing no longer exchanged because everything had already be said with those few words. aran pulled back, looking into your eyes before closing your lips in a deep, heated kiss. eyes darting all over his face once he pulled back, “still staying with me tonight? so i can hold and kiss on you.”

“hm i don’t know.” hiding your smirk in his neck, trying to continue your pouty attitude, aran smacked his teeth rubbing his hands all over your curves. squeezing on the soft flesh of your ass. “c’mon mama, come home with me.” you sighed, giving him a soft smile. mind set on giving him a hard time the rest of the night as he tries to make it up to you but not even five minutes passed in his room before you were puddy in his arms.

your anklets dangling next your ear while aran folded you up in his bed, ready to split you open. your whines sounding off the walls as his heavy dick slapped down on your throbbing clit. “looka that wet ass pussy..” running it through your slit and teasing your entrance with his tip before sinking into you deep, eyes rolling back with a moan as he caressed your sweet spot within. aran watching the white ring form around the base from how eagerly you sucked him in. keeping that steady pace that had you leaking for him, your hand pushing at his pelvis to keep him from going too deep, only for him to remove it and place it on your lower belly. pushing it down for you to feel him fucking you in ways you’ve never felt before. “feel me huh? m’ all yours mama, this yo dick.”

“ain’t no reason to trip”

your back arching into his at the deep slow pace he maintained, making sure you feel every single inch he gave you. stretching and filling you full while his thumb circled your clit and setting the fire in the pit of your stomach ablaze, legs shaking in his hold. “o-ohhh my g-goddd, paaa.” his eyes flickering from your pooling mess to your glazed over eyes, moaning at how you clenched down on him. “i know baby, i know..”

oncoming orgasm swelling your walls and trying to push him out. “open up for daddy.” slowly hardening his thrust, hips slamming against your pelvis with precision. moans catching in your throat as aran watches your pretty brown breast bounce in his hold, nipples hard and erect from the cool air against your scorching skin. aran wrapping a strong hand around your neck leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth and swallowing every moan you let out for him. aran pulled back with a smirk, lips red and wet from the kiss. “you still mad at me..?” you came hard, creamy arousal coating his dick and pelvis. aran slowly stroking you through your orgasm with a smile.

“nah, you ain’t mad..”

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newkatzkafe2023 · 18 days ago

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Hi. I think our beloved monkey doesn't like lipstick and lip gloss. They smell strange to him, don't taste too good, and stain his fur. But once a reader buys a lipstick / gloss with peach flavor, the number of kisses mysteriously doubles. Can you write something about this, please?

Kiss Kiss Fall in love😘💋

(Lmk Wukong) The smells definitely mess with his head admittedly, and he would get headaches, especially from the fruity ones. Though once he ment you he seen you put on many kinds of lipgloss, and it was cute on you but one day he smell something very familiar. You had purchased a new lipstick that was peach scented and wanted to show Wukong, but it seems it had already flipped a switch. Next thing anyone knew, you both were making out on the couch and had a derpy expression at the end.

(HIB Wukong) Yeah he finds the smells to be an inconvenience, especially when he had a forming headache already. Though he still always makes sure to compliment you on all the new looks he would have. Though something was very different this time as it felt familiar to him in some way, until he found out what it was. You had gotten a peach scented lipgloss and showed it to Wukong, of course he liked it but uhhh the smell was making his head spin. The final blow was you telling him that it's also peach flavored as well, let's just say Wukong was on you like white on rice.

(MKR Wukong) He hates the smells most make up would have, and will never understand how women could stand it. Though he does know that you would wear it at times, soo good for you wifey. Though one day you had told him you purchased a lipgloss and wanted to know his opinion of how it looked on you, but what he didn't expect was it to make your lips smell like peaches. I'm sure how you know how that went😉

(NR Wukong) Well he actually doesn't mind the many smells of make up. I mean their are Many kinds of lipsticks and lipgloss he has encountered over the centuries, then when he met you he had seen you wear all flavors of lipgloss. Then one day he smelled something rather familiar on your lips, you told him you got peach flavored lipstick and had offer to try it with you😉 one frantic make out session later he face, lips and parts of his chest and neck was completely cover in lipstick💄

(Netflix Wukong) Yeah never understood the whole concept of make up, which is a little unusual considering his vanity and how much time he would stare at the mirror. Though he does love how it makes you look even more beautiful than before, but one day you had came home you smelled different but also familiar. When Wukong had went to see you he saw that you had pink lipgloss on, looking all sweet the when you kissed him he had found that you tasted like peaches as well. He wants more kisses now.......💋

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh, ummm, I'm not sure what to say in this one, especially when he's aware of different kinds of makeup, but he also doesn't think they were big deals. Now, of course, he loved the way makeup makes you look, he saw you were showing off your new lipgloss. It made your lips look all cute and pretty in pink not to mention shiny too. Though what got him going was the peach scent that came from your lips, and with that you both made out in private.

(Destined one) He also doesn't have a big opinion on it, but what makes you look pretty. Personally the destined one thinks you could do without the make up considering you were always beautiful. Then one day you told him that you had bought new lipgloss and wanted his opinion on it, the destined one was curious on it too. Though he was in for quite a shock when he smelled peaches from you now pretty pink lips, you know what else he didn't expect, was to kiss his face cover in smudged face kisses🥰.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #x female y/n #black myth wukong #the destined one x reader #luscious lips #lipstick #lip gloss

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biteyoubiteme · 1 month ago

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txt masterlist

key: ⟡ popular fics ꩜ cams faves

yeonjun

melon float wc: 1.9k [NSFW] synopsis: a picnic in the park is always fun with your boyfriend. apologize wc: 1.7k [NSFW] synopsis: you do have to say sorry when you hurt feelings. I make it sticky like wc: 1.2k [NSFW] ⟡ ꩜ synopsis: you decide to ditch condoms. mango flavored wc: 3.1k [NSFW] synopsis: you just love to hate each other. cat got your tongue? wc: 2.7k [NSFW] synopsis: you and yeonjun are both models. a good seat wc: 1k [NSFW]

soobin

strawberry float wc: 1.28k [NSFW] synopsis: who cares if anyone hears you two? you haven't had space all week until now. perfect practice wc: 0.8k [NSFW] ⟡ take a pic, it'll last longer wc: 0.9k (drabble) [NSFW] blue raspberry flavored wc: 1.5k [NSFW] ⟡ ꩜ synopsis: he’s so cute when he asks, he’s even cuter when he doesn’t. baby, now, now, now, now wc: 1k [NSFW] synopsis: he just looks too hot after a performance. don't you want me? wc: 0.9k [NSFW] synopsis: don’t you want your boyfriend? lemon cake wc: 8.9k [NSFW] ꩜ synopsis: the tale of lemon drop and angel cake in strawberryland!

beomgyu

cola float wc: 2k [NSFW] synopsis: 'just one more game,' only you can't wait for it to be over. bubble gum flavored wc: 6k [NSFW] ⟡ ꩜ synopsis: you’re his favorite camgirl he never thought he’d see in person. beomgyu x thighs wc: 0.6k [NSFW] ꩜ after the show wc: 0.8k [NSFW] bitten wc: 3.8k [NSFW] ꩜ synopsis: it’s been a century since the last youve seen him, why come back now?

taehyun

orange float wc: 1.7k [NSFW] synopsis: teasing your boyfriend all night isnt always a good idea but sometimes it is. sour apple flavored wc: 2.7k [NSFW] ꩜ synopsis: someone or something is always waiting by your window at night, why not leave it unlocked and see what happens? pin me wc: 1.5k [NSFW] ⟡ synopsis: play fighting with your boyfriend turns into more.

hueningkai

blueberry float wc: 1.83k [NSFW] synopsis: you get carried away after a day on the beach with your surfer boyfriend. mystery flavored wc: 2.7k [NSFW] synopsis: you didn’t think you would end up in the pervy boys bed until you did. drummer kai thought [sfw] ill be quick wc: 1.9k [NSFW] synopsis: dress shopping with your boyfriend.

ot5 / multi member

busy signal wc: 4.7k (yeonkai x reader) [NSFW] synopsis: yeonjuns away on a trip and sends you a suggestive photo leaving you needing the help of your other boyfriend kai to take care of you. fit check wc: 3k (yeonkai x reader) [NSFW] synopsis: yeonjun buys you some new clothes and wants you to try them on for him and huening. wake up call wc: 1.39k (yeonkai x reader) [NSFW] synopsis: Yeonjun and kai wake you up after they've been out. movie date wc:3.7k (yeonkai x reader) [NSFW] ꩜ synopsis: you're too scared to go to bed after you watch a scary movie with your boyfriends. cherry flavored wc: 3.4k (yeonkai x reader)[NSFW] ꩜ synopsis: you go to a costume party with your boyfriends. needy jealousy wc: 3.4k (yeonkai x reader) [NSFW] ⟡ ꩜ synopsis: your boyfriends decide to join nonutnovember. 7 minutes wc: 1.7k (soogyu x reader request) [NSFW] synopsis: you play seven minutes in heaven with your boyfriend and his roommate beomgyu. spilled drinks wc: 2.5k (tyunning x reader) [NSFW] synopsis: your now ex could never get you off, so they show you they can. black cherry flavored wc: 9.2k (ot5) [NSFW] ⟡ ꩜ synopsis: how many ghostfaces are there again? throuple taegyu sfw/nsfw thoughts wc: 0.4k [NSFW] throuple beomjun thoughts wc: 0.3k [NSFW] throuple beomjun thoughts with soft fem!reader wc: 0.4k [NSFW] throuple beomkai thoughts wc: 0.4k [NSFW] throuple taejun thoughts wc: 0.4k [NSFW] nsfw yeonkai x reader thoughts wc: 0.5k [NSFW] cozy holiday sfw yeonkai x reader thoughts wc: 0.4k [sfw] poly txt x reader headcanons wc: 0.7k [NSFW]

txt boyfriend headcanons wc: 0.5k [sfw] txt with lollipops wc: 0.3k [NSFW] vampire!txt headcanons wc: 1.0k [NSFW] mtl txt non-sexual fingering wc: 0.3k [NSFW] mtl txt v. nonutnovember wc: 0.7k [NSFW] mtl txt knowing when you're ovulating wc: 0.4k [NSFW]

txt events whatever floats your boat (summertime event) dumdums (kinktober 24’) ⟡ ꩜ 1k!event

#txt x reader #txt m.list #cams!bookshelf

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xxspringmelodyxx · 6 months ago

Text

Interrogation

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader 18+

wc. 1.2k Warning: 18+, MDNI!, fingering, edging, <33333

“Satoru~” you moan as you sit in his lap, his fingers thrusting themselves deep into your poor, dripping cunt.

“Come on, baby. Tell me. You wanna be my good girl, don’t you~” He asked, feeling your juices drip down his hand onto his chair.

“I-I can’t! That would be cheat-ngh-ing~” you whine, fat tears clinging to your eyelashes. His thumb rubbed faster on your clit, his fingers thrusting up deeper to the point where he was knuckles deep inside.

“Come on, it's just a test baby. There's no shame in a little cheating~” He said, placing open mouthed kisses on your neck, making sure to leave plenty of marks.

Indeed, it was all true. This entire situation stemmed from a ridiculous test designed to evaluate Satoru's interrogation skills. He was tasked with solving a fabricated crime scene by extracting information from a few people: Kento, Shoko, and you. Kento and Shoko had already taken their turns, and unsurprisingly, Satoru easily coaxed the necessary information out of them, mostly due to the fact that he was being hella annoying and they just wanted to leave.

Satoru was nearly finished unraveling the mystery, with only you, his beloved wife, left to question. He assumed it would be straightforward, expecting you to simply provide the answer so he could complete this absurd test. However, you proved to be far more challenging than he anticipated, and Satoru found himself struggling to elicit any useful information from you.

But then, a solution to his predicament dawned on him. And that’s where you both find yourselves now.

“B-But this isn’t how a pr-proper–fuck–interogation s-should go. You would never do this in a real si-situationnn~” You whined, feeling your climax approaching once again.

“True, but this is a stupid fucking test that my wife is making unnecessarily difficult for her sweet and kind husband. The man who worships the ground she walks on, who can't ever stop thinking about her, and who loves seeing her unravel right in front of his very eyes~” He said, speeding up the pace. He knew you were close, so very close to that wonderful and toe curling orgasm that would leave you in shambles.

“Toru, please~” You begged, not wanting him to stop again.

“Please what, my love?” He asked, acting all innocent.

“I wanna cum…please let me~” I whined, looking at him with desperation. However, seeing that you still haven’t answered his question, he quickly pulled his fingers out of you. You gasp once more, feeling that long awaited orgasm slowly disappear.

“Not until you tell me what I want to hear, my sweet~” He teased, looking at his coated fingers. He spread his fingers apart, seeing the sticky residue you left on them.

He looked at you and placed them in his mouth, licking them clean and savoring the flavor.

“N-No! I won’t!” I said, trying to gain back control, failing miserably. Satoru looked at you, his jaw clenched at your stubbornness.

“Fine.”

He picked you up and slammed you on his desk, digging his fingers back into your aching pussy. And he was ruthless. You arched your body into his chest, feeling his fingers hit just the right spots inside of you.

”Then we’re gonna keep doing this until you tell me. And trust me, my love, I have all day and night. Only thing is, can you survive that long? Hmm?” He asked, kissing down to your chest, placing his mouth over one of your sensitive nipples.

”Fuck! S-Satoru!” You cried out, grabbing onto his hair to have some sort of leverage. He moaned, feeling your delicate fingers intertwining themselves with his locks.

”You like that, baby? You like feeling my fingers drive into you like this?” He asked, kissing back up to your neck.

”You like when my thumb presses hard, right here?” He asked, pressing down hard on your clit, rubbing quick little circles over it.

”Mmmm~” You moaned, feeling yourself slowly fall into the brink of insanity. He had been edging you for so long now and you were getting desperate.

“Fuck, you know I love you, right?” He whispered in your ear, licking the outer shell. And as soon as he said those words, he felt your sweet and needy cunt clench around his fingers.

”Oh, you liked that, didn’t you~” He said, grinning sinisterly.

”You like when I say how much I love you~” He asked, bringing his other hand to your face, forcing you to look up at him.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful like this…Open your mouth for me.” He ordered, and you were quick to oblige. He leaned over you, spitting right in your mouth.

“Now swallow, my love~” And you did, hoping he would now let you cum.

You fool…

Satoru quickly removed his fingers again, making you cry out again.

”Don’t stop! Please baby!’ You begged, trying to move closer to his hand to get that sweet relief.

“You know the rules, Yn. Tell me what I need to know. And then I'll make sure you cum so hard, it's all you’ll think about.”

He reinserted his fingers again, moving at the same pace as before.

“Come on, baby. Tell me. That’s all you have to do~” he said in your ear. And at this point, you were so blissed out that you didn’t care anymore.

“Fine!” You moaned, telling him everything he needed to know. He looked deep into your eyes, giving you a small little kiss on your lips.

“See, that wasn’t that hard now, was it? And for being such a good girl, you can have your reward~”

He sped up his fingers, curling them inside as he spread you out. He rubbed your sensitive clit once again, sensing your upcoming orgasm.

“Cum baby. You did so well that you deserve it. Fuck, I love you so much.” He said, placing his lips on yours in a sloppy, heated kiss. He drove his tongue into your mouth, exploring all over.

Within seconds, you feel a wave of pleasure hit you like a train. Warmth spreads throughout your entire body, blood rushing to your ears. Your body tenses up, your muscles clenching as you let out a loud, gorgeous moan. It was music to Sartoru’s ears. You finally came and it was one hell of an orgasm. It left you shaking and breathless on his desk.

Satoru pulled away from your lips, watching you slowly come back down from your high. He gently pushed back one of your stray hairs from your face, kissing your nose.

“You, my love, did so well for me~” Suddenly, a knock was heard. “Now, let’s see how he did.” One of the higher ups said, alerting both you and Satoru.

“Damn higher ups. Come on.” He said, picking you up bridal style.

“S-Satoru! What are-“

“You think I’m staying here for those losers? I’d much rather be with you, Yn. Now, let's go finish what we started, shall we?” He asked, teleporting you two away back to your guys’ home.

And you slept happily ever after~

_________________

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chukys-mouthguard · 6 months ago

Text

A Shot at Love: Welcome to the Mansion

5.65 words

meet the 12 eligible bachelors

It’s time, for the premier of ‘A Shot at Love: An NHL Dating Show AU’ ! The 12 lucky bachelors arrive at the mansion to meet our lovely bachelorette Y/N!

Who will impress? Who will receive the coveted first rose? It’s all up to the viewers in this one of a kind interactive au series!

Voting is only open for 24 hours, so be sure to cast your vote for who should get the first rose!

note: if you want to be added to the tag list for this series, please comment or send me an ask! :)

A deep sigh left your lips as you looked yourself over once more in the mirror, palms smoothing over your dress before nervously messing with your hair.

In just a few minutes you’d be introduced to twelve NHL players that were going to be competing for a chance at forever with you. The idea was one you sure would never come to fruition when first pitched to you, and when you found out the players of the league would be voting for the twelve eligible bachelors, you were surely convinced the concept would die.

But as the twelve players were determined and had all accepted their spots on the show, you were realizing this funny concept had turned into your reality.

“Y/n, are you ready to get this show started?”

The voice of Paul Bissonnette interrupting your thoughts as you turned to find him and Ryan Whitney, the hosts of the show, both waiting patiently for you before heading out to the front of the mansion to welcome the mystery men.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

A soft chuckle left your lips as you could feel your palms growing sweatier as you headed for the door. The limo transporting the men now visible in the distance as it drove down the long winding driveway.

“Pink Whitney to calm your nerves?”

Ryan pulled 3 mini bottles of the pink lemonade flavored vodka from his suit pocket, Biz quickly taking one and cracking it open.

“Are you guys gonna constantly plug your vodka during this show?”

“You bet your ass we are!”

Biz and Whit tapped their bottles together before throwing them back, you rolling your eyes before joining them in taking the shot.

“Alright, we are gonna go give the boys a warm welcome, then it’ll be show time!”

Nodding your head you watched as the two hosts headed down to meet the limousine, each of them climbing inside to welcome the mystery men. Your nerves at a high as you tried to imagine who would’ve actually accepted a spot on this show, quickly running through every team in the league trying to picture who would come out of the limo. Surely no stars were putting themselves on a dating show, your expectations assuming them to be lesser known guys who maybe didn’t have some superstar image to uphold.

“Holy shit Whit, look at these fucking beauties we got in here!”

Whit quickly smacked his co-host as the group seated around the limo laughed. “Biz watch the mouth! This is national television, you’re gonna get us fired before we even make it to the rose ceremony.”

Biz covered his mouth in embarrassment before mouthing an I’m sorry to the camera.

“Alright boys, so you’re all here because the players voted you all as the worst in the league when it comes to dating and the ladies. So congratulations!”

The limo erupted in laugher and some half hearted cheers. “Y/n’s waiting for you all. She’s a little nervous, but excited. And she’s a drop dead smoke show, so it’s you all who should be nervous!”

Biz went to climb from the limo, time for the grand reveal, but Whit stopped him. “Biz, I think they all could use a little liquid courage don’t you think?”

Whit pulled a bag full of Pink Whitney bottles seemingly from out of nowhere, tossing one to each of the men. “This portion of the show is sponsored by Pink Whitney, the official drink of ‘A Shot at Love.’ Cheers boys!”

As you headed to the bottom of the staircase out front of the mansion, hearing the boys all saying cheers with their shots in the limo, you rolled your eyes.

“Those two are seriously gonna plug that drink every chance they get.”

Biz and Whit reappeared and headed your way, signaling that it was finally time to meet the men that would be competing for a shot at love with you. Your mind racing as you wondered what their opinions of you would be. Would they like you? Would they think you were attractive? Certainly being professional athletes they’ve had plenty of women throwing themselves at them.

“Y/n, it’s time. Should we bring out the first gentleman?”

A simple nod was all you could muster as you patiently waited for the door of the limo to open and Biz or Whit to call their name, wondering who you might see emerging from behind it.

“From the New Jersey Devils…Nico Hischier.”

Nico stepped out of the limo, his smile immediately settling your nerves. A hand running through his hair to ensure it sat perfectly as he buttoned his suit jacket before he walked towards you.

If this was how the night would start, you couldn’t imagine who else was hiding in the limo.

Your heart racing as Nico now stood in front of you, politely taking your hand and kissing it. A true gentleman.

“Hi y/n, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Hi Nico, likewise, even though I had no clue you would be here.”

The blush on your cheeks had to be visible at this point as you couldn’t stop smiling. His accent sounded like music to your ears as he spoke.

“Though I have no clue what to expect out of this experience, I’m excited to get to know you,and for you to get to know me. At the end of this hopefully we are jetting off to Switzerland together.”

“I mean that would definitely be a pretty great ending in my eyes!”

“Well we could leave now? Screw this show?”

Nico playfully pulled your hand to run, but stopped as he laughed, making you melt right there.

“I don’t wanna take up more of your time, I’ll let you meet the rest of the guys. But I promise they won’t be as great as me.”

Nico shot you a wink before heading up the stairs and into the mansion, your smile now permanently on your face.

“So? What did you think of that fine piece of Swiss chocolate?”

A cackle left your mouth at Biz’s drunken commentary, shaking your head as Whit moved to knock on the door of limo to signal the next man to reveal himself.

“You guys are drunk and we’ve only met one guy, oh my lord.”

You were surely in for a wild night, and this was only the beginning.

“From the Philadelphia Flyers, Jamie Drysdale.”

“Hi y/n, it’s nice to meet you. You, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you Jamie, it’s lovely to meet you. How’s your shoulder doing?”

Jamie was shocked at your question, surely he didn’t expect you to be familiar enough with him to know he’d injured the same shoulder two seasons in a row. Laughing a bit as he playfully rubbed it.

“It’s good, better than ever. I’ll never turn down a good shoulder rub though.”

“Maybe if you’re lucky we can do that later for your one on one time?”

“Sounds like a plan to me, I’ll head inside and find a good spot for a massage.”

Jamie flashed a smile before heading inside, Biz looking towards the car to see who was next. A soft chuckle leaving his lips as he gave you a thumbs up, as if to say it’s a good one.

“From the New York Rangers, Matt Rempe.”

Your eyes went wide as the Rangers rookie emerged from the limo. You’d seen him on tv and knew he was tall, but seeing him in person made that crystal clear.

“Hi.”

A soft chuckle leaving your lips as you could sense his nerves and the awkwardness emanating from him.

“Hi, um, I’m sure you get this all the time but, you’re even taller in person.”

“Yeah, I hear that sometimes. Does that mean you’ve watched me on tv?”

“I might have a few times, but don’t think that’s gonna give you any type of advantage here!”

He smiled wide as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m just happy to be a part of this with a pretty girl like you, I’m not expecting any special treatment.”

“As long as you don’t start any fights here okay?”

He shot you a devilish grin as he headed up the stairs.

“No promises.”

“Hey, how many shots have you boys had over there?”

You shouted across the drive, noticing the two men getting the giggles. Most likely laughing at something stupid, telling you they were well on their way to being drunk.

“We might as well have just brought a whole bottle out here. These mini bottles aren’t cutting it.”

Shaking your head you smoothed your hands over the front of your dress, readying yourself for the next mystery man to emerge.

“You guys aren’t gonna make it to reveal number six at this rate.”

“From the Seattle Kraken, Vince Dunn.”

The moment Vince stepped out of the limo he’d immediately caught your eye, noticing his style differing from the first few guys. No suit for Vince as he wore a short sleeve shirt that was tastefully showing off the outline of his chest and arm muscles thanks to it being a little on the tighter side. Pairing that with some solid colored chino pants, and some slip on vans.

“Am I a little underdressed or something?”

He playfully joked as he walked up to you, giving you a hug before taking the time to look you up and down. A smile on his face as he held your hand.

“If this is your style, then never worry about being underdressed. I think you look great!”

“Suits are great and all, but my mind is always focused on when I can just throw on my sweats and be comfy.”

“Trust me I’ve been thinking about that the entire time I’ve been standing here, I especially can’t wait for the moment I can take my bra off.”

You and Vince laughed as he made his way towards the staircase to head inside and join the growing group.

“Oh me too, taking my bra off is the best part of my day for sure!”

“From the Vegas Golden Knights, I fucking love this kid-“

“Biz watch the goddamn mouth!”

“Oh fu-I mean, fudge. Jacky Eichs!”

Jack emerged from the limo laughing at the two drunk hosts, both of them giving him a little cheer as he made his way to you, giving you a hug before he introduced himself.

“Hi y/n, I’m Jack. And if we are gonna be together at the end of this, I think it’s important I be honest with you right from the start.”

“Okay, I love honesty.”

He sighed, as if to suggest it was something tough for him to say, making you nervous as this was only night one and you weren’t expecting any drama this soon.

“My, my real name isn’t Jack, it’s John. Woo, that feels good to get off my chest!”

Rolling your eyes you let out a sigh of relief, playfully smacking him on the chest as he laughed. “I thought you were gonna say something off the wall crazy Jack, I mean, John?”

“You can call me Jack, I just didn’t want any secrets on day one, big or small you know?”

He headed up the stairs as Biz and Whit are still shocked they never knew his real name was John, chirping him until he’d finally shut the door to the house behind him.

“Fuc-fudge me Biz what are we on six now? I mean I can’t even see who is coming out of the limos anymore.”

“God forbid you say the wrong name Whit, better put on the glasses for the next one.”

“From the New York Islanders, Mat Barzal.”

If your heart could stop beating, but somehow you’d still be standing and breathing, it had just happened. The minute he’d stepped from the limo you were confused as to how he’d ended up here. Mat was one of the hottest guys in the league, but he did have a bit of a reputation. So how they got him to agree to something as crazy as this, you’d never know.

“Y/n, nice to meet you, I’m Mat.”

“I know, I’ve seen you on tv once or twice, so I know a thing or two.”

“Uh oh, good things or bad things?”

His smirk shot you right through the heart and you could barely focus on speaking. Aspiring how good he looked in his dress pants as loose fitting button up, following Vince in the more casual style of dress.

“I guess you’ll have to wait and find out?”

He shot you a wink before heading inside, your heart rate not slowing down as you urged Biz to hurry up with the next man.

“From the Anaheim Ducks, Gouda!”

“Huh?”

You looked at the two hosts confused as Whit shook his head at Biz, taking the Pink Whitney bottle from his hands as he quickly corrected his partner.

“Jesus Christ, please ignore his drunk ass for the rest of the night, it’s Trevor Zegras.”

The smiley boy emerged from the limo, running a hand through his hair as he approached you. Wrapping you in a tight hug as he seemed to exude confidence.

“Hi y/n, so nice to meet you.”

“You as well, is it Trevor or Gouda?”

He threw his head back laughing as he shrugged. “Whatever you wanna call me, I’m here for it. Trevor, Gouda, maybe your boyfriend by the time things are done here. I’m fine with any of those options!”

“Confident, okay, I like it . Well, I’ll stick with Trevor for right now, don’t wanna get ahead of ourselves.”

Shooting him a wink you bid him farewell as the next man was already emerging from the limo.

“From the Vancouver Canucks, Quinn Hughes.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. Quinn was known to you as a bit more reserved, often quiet. And quite frankly, he was the last person you expected to be on a dating show.

“You seem a bit surprised, were you expecting Jack to come out of that limo?”

He shyly laughed as he gave you a hug. Quickly shaking your head you tried to erase any thoughts from his mind that you weren’t thrilled to see him.

“No no! Not at all, you just don’t strike me as the dating show type.”

“Well I guess there’s a lot you need to learn about me. For one, reality dating shows are actually a guilty pleasure of mine. And two, maybe I’m not afraid to admit that t I might need some help in the dating department. So here I am.”

“I guess you could say I need some help too and that’s why I’m standing here. But I’m very happy that you’re here too Quinn!”

“How many more guys are there holy shi-shoot?”

Biz headed to the limo, peeking his head inside to count the remaining guys.

“Can we speed run these last guys? Like oh my gosh.”

“Imagine standing on cobblestone in heels this whole time Biz!”

“Exactly! Speed round, hello?? Whit, help me out here!” Whit shook his head as he continued with the script, not wanting to add to the list of reasons he and Biz would be on the chopping block after this episode airs. Most of those reasons being the accidental f bombs and high alcohol content.

“From the Toronto Maple Leafs, Auston Matthews.”

If you had to rank the players you were most familiar with, Auston would have been towards the top of the list. Though you knew of him for the fact that Toronto wasn’t known for doing too hot in the playoffs the last few years, though you’d never say that to him.

“Hey y/n, how are you?”

He wrapped you in a hug with a smile plastered in his face, unsure if it was him or the Pink Whitney shots that had you blushing.

“Hi Auston, nice to meet you. Loving the outfit, different from the other guys. Which is good, helps you stand out for sure.”

He playfully showed off his outfit, which was more street style than formal attire. But it was true to Auston, which you appreciated him taking the chance to just be himself and show that.

“Figured it was best to show up true to me. Glad you like it. I’m hoping that here I can bring home the win, unlike my track record on the ice.”

“Viewers, he said it, not me!”

You pointed to the camera, staring it down playfully as you laughed, Auston backing you up that it was his words and not yours.

“God bless, final 3 boys, then we’re done.”

“Biz they still have the opportunity for some one on one time, we aren’t done after this.”

“Jesus….pass me another shot.”

“From the Montreal Canadiens, Cole Caufield.”

The smile on Cole’s face never left from the time he exited the limo to when he hugged you. Kindly greeting you as he introduced himself.

“Y/n, ask him what his nickname is.”

Cole immediately shook his head at Biz butting into the meeting, “we really don’t need to do that. Maybe we can reveal that if I make it past tonight.”

Despite Cole’s pleading to ignore Biz, you couldn’t help but be intrigued. “Is it really that bad?”

Cole sighed as he rubbed his neck, debating on whether or not he wanted to tell you. “I’d rather leave you guessing for now, it’s not bad, just, not television appropriate let’s say.”

Your eyes went wide as your mind raced as to what the nickname could be, but letting it slide as you could sense Cole’s nervousness.

“Maybe later you can tell me without these two hanging around.”

Cole smiled as he headed inside, hearing him mumble “fuck I need a shot after that” on his way up the stairs, making you chuckle to yourself.

“I don’t know who let this kid in because he’s not even old enough to drink Pink Whitney, the official sponsor of ‘A Shot at Love’. But he’s here so I guess we just have to deal with it. Get this boy an apple juice, from the New Jersey Devils, Luke Hughes.”

The idea of 2 Hughes brothers’ being included in this show was not one that crossed your mind, but if it had, Luke would definitely have not been the other brother you expected to see step out of that limo.

He shyly made his way over, a soft smile on his face as he hugged you. You couldn’t help but smile, trying your best to make him feel less nervous or anxious.

“Hi Luke, very nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I’m sure you weren’t expecting this to become Hughes’ bowl, minus Jack of course. But he’s not that great anyways, so you’re not missing much.”

The two of you laughed at his brotherly jabs, appreciating how he’d seemed to relax a bit once he made you laugh.

“Well things definitely just got interesting with 2 Hughes’ brothers in the house, I’d say cheers to the idea of you both making it to the end, but the boys said you’re not 21.”

Like shrugged off the comment, not paying much attention to that fact. “Trust me, it’ll come in handy for me when all these other guys are hungover trying to compete in some sort of physical challenge!”

You were thankful that you’d reached the last guy to appear from the limo, desperately needing to not be standing on cobblestone in your heels.

“And finally, thank the lord, from the Utah Hockey Club. That’s so fucking weird to say oh my god, John Marino.”

John appeared from the limo, laughing at Whit’s comments on his new team, and if you were honest you’d not paid much attention to him prior to him being traded. But as he walked over to you, with a smile on his face as he ran a hand through his loose curls, you were mad for not paying attention sooner.

“Hey y/n, how are you?”

“I’m good, feet hurt a little from standing for so long, but I’m surviving. What about you? Last guy having to sit in that limo all night.”

John shrugged it off, “it was worth my butt falling asleep 4 times if it meant I got to walk out here and see you.”

Playfully holding a hand to your forehead as you pretended to become faint, John laughed.

“Well it’s true! You look beautiful, and I’d wait in the car for another 4 hours if I had to. But, I’ll wrap this up so we can get inside and you can get your feet off this cobblestone. Lovely to meet you, and I’ll see you in there.”

John pulled you in for a hug before heading up the stairs, Biz and Whit joining you as the three of you followed suit. Ready to welcome all of the guys as a group.

As you headed inside, the competition was now seeming like it was going to be more difficult than you’d imagined. Thinking of all of the guys that were inside waiting. All of the handsome, funny, talented athletes, full of personality. How the hell were you going to eliminate any of them tonight?

Entering the room the men had all been waiting in, you took a deep breath. Facing them all together made you nervous as they surely had been sizing each other up from the moment they’d all settled in. All of them smiling once they saw you walk in, a few whistles and cheers coming from the group while you found your place in front of them.

“Okay, well, we’ve made it this far! I can’t speak for Biz and Whit because I think they are one shot away from passing out on us. But, I just wanted to thank you all for being a part of this crazy journey. I find it hard to believe that the twelve of you would voluntarily put yourself through something like this, for me. And for a shot at love. I’m so excited to learn about each of you for who you are off the ice, because that comes first to me. I’m not paying attention to who in this group scores the most goals, who plays on the best team. I’m here looking to find my person, and I’m excited to know that one of you will be that guy.”

The guys cheered as your lovely hosts were passing around more Pink Whitney shots, as if they’d hadn’t had enough tonight already.

“Can you two even handle another shot?”

“Are you kidding? Pink Whitney is the official sponsor of ‘A Shot at Love’, and the best pink lemonade flavored vodka on the market. Of course we can handle another shot! Plus, we made the damn thing!”

Rolling your eyes you accepted the shot from Biz, the group holding their shots up as you proposed a toast.

“Well, I can guarantee with hosts like these there will never be a dull moment around here. Cheers to ’A Shot at Love’! Sorry Luke…promise we will get you something non-alcoholic for next week so you can still feel included.”

Everyone tossed back their shots, then placed the empty bottles on the table. Immediately the competition had begun as it was a race to who was going to ask you for some time alone first.

Jack Eichel appeared at your side, taking your hand as he asked if the two of you could talk, the other guys immediately groaning at his eagerness to steal you away.

The two of you found a spot in one of the side rooms, taking a seat on the sofa with a sigh as Jack laughed.

“Tough night so far?”

Shaking your head, you smiled as you weren’t trying to come across tired or anything with the night so far. “No no, just, nice to sit down! Heels on cobblestone do not mix.”

“Well if beauty is pain, you must be in agony because you look gorgeous tonight.”

Blushing at his words you couldn’t help but smile, softly biting at your lip the way the compliment just effortlessly rolled off his tongue.

“You’re a pretty smooth talker Mr. Eichel. How’s the night been for you? Probably weird seeing all these guys under one rough and you’re all competing in a different way than usual.”

He nodded his head as he chuckled, “you could definitely say that. It’s weird seeing some of the guys, only because they seem a bit out of place in my opinion. Like I know we were voted here by guys in the league, but some of these guys, I mean Luke Hughes? He’s 20, how much dating experience does that kid have? I just think it’s a little unfair to him that he found himself thrown into this you know?”

Nodding your head you were unsure what Jack’s intentions were with this conversation. It seems odd that he’d take his first opportunity to chat with you to talk about who he believes should and shouldn’t be in the house.

“Well, hey, he’s here right? So, either he will make the best of it and find love for himself. Or he won’t. But, I think that’s for him to worry about Jack, not you, you know?”

The conversation with Jack continued on, thankfully moving away from the focus on what guys were voted in the house, but soon enough you’d be interrupted by another man trying to steal your attention.

“Knock knock, times up Eichs.”

Jack looked over his shoulder to see Auston and he reluctantly got up, playfully whining that time went by too quick. Bidding you goodbye as he exited and allowed Auston to take a seat next to you.

“Hi.”

You could feel your smile had doubled in size from the moment Auston walked in. Something about him just gave you butterflies, and you almost felt embarrassed for how excited you were to see him.

“How are you?”

He took your hand in his as he watched you attentively, waiting for your response as you laughed. “I mean, it probably sounds wrong to say, but I’ve got 12 pretty amazing guys all in one house because they want to date me. That’s a pretty nice feeling I’d say?”

Auston laughed with you as he sipped his drink, nodding in agreement.

“I mean, I think we’d all be crazy not to be here, and any one of us would be lucky to walk away with you after this.”

Though all the guys had made a point to say that, you could hear the sincerity in Austin’s voice, he meant it.

“I guess I just wonder how some of you ended up here, or why. I feel like you all should be in relationships and unavailable, how do some of the league's best stars get voted here by their peers?”

He shrugged as he sighed, “because that’s just it, we’re stars, so we should have a girl on our arm. And there’s countless girls we could have on our arms. But, they aren’t there for the right reasons, because of who we are. I can’t speak for any of those guys, so I’m simply speaking for myself. I’m not here for a check, some screen time to promote myself, I’m here because I genuinely think you could be the girl I’ve been missing.”

You felt your heart practically melt at his words, something you’d only ever dreamed of hearing someone say to you.

“I can’t tell you how amazing that makes me feel, hearing you say that. Truly.”

He held your hand tighter as he could see you trying not to get emotional.

“I’ve been through my fair share of rough relationships, being used or played by guys. And, it’s not fun. Thinking you’ve found someone that loves you for you, and it turns out to just be a game to them. But I can hear in your voice how sincere you are, and you mean what you say. And that really just warms my heart. So thank you.”

“Well I’m happy to be the one to say those words to you. And I hope you really do trust me when I say, you’re going to find someone here. Whether it’s me, which I hope it is, or another one of these guys, you’ll find your person. I promise you that.”

Conversations continued throughout the night, some more awkward than others. Particularly with the younger guys like Matt Rempe and Luke Hughes. Both of them taking awhile to open up, but as soon as they did another guy was coming to take their place.

Jamie made a point to ask if you were serious about his shoulder massage, to which you told him if he won the date with you next week you’d promise to give him one.

Trevor and Cole were probably the most talkative out of any of the guys, both full of energy and constantly cracking jokes. Which you appreciated since you knew you needed to find a guy that could make you laugh, that was non-negotiable.

You were sure that Nico was thankful when Quinn came to interrupt the two of you. You’d been talking Nico’s ear off asking him about Switzerland, his taste in music, anything you could think of to get to know him better in the short amount of time. But little did you know he found it adorable, loving how sincerely interested you were in learning about where he’s from, and his interests. He wished he didn’t have to let anyone else have their time with you because he could’ve talked for hours.

Quinn noticed you were a bit talked out when he walked in, but he didn’t mind. Taking the league in telling you about himself, making a point to talk about his love for his family and how important they were to him. He expressed that his past relationship struggles weren’t exactly his fault, as he wanted to be sure the girl he chose to be with would love his family and vice versa. He was a picky sort of guy, but he wasn’t the type to waste anyone’s time when he knew what he wanted, and you appreciated that. Hearing him talk about his family and the love he had for them, it warmed your heart because you could only hope that you’d be the girl Quinn chose to meet his family one day.

As the night was winding down, with only a few guys left to talk to, you found yourself realizing that also meant an elimination was just around the corner.

“How the hell am I gonna do this?”

Questioning yourself as you paced the floor, your thoughts the only noise in the room, you tried to imagine who you would eliminate. But it seemed almost impossible to choose, they were all so amazing. Sure some conversations weren’t the best, but no one had given you a reason to say goodbye to them so soon. Not to mention you still needed to decide who would get the first rose of the night.

“Ugh!”

Letting out a groan you plopped back onto the couch in a huff, resting your head in your hands. The pressure of things weighing heavily on you as you tried to calm your nerves.

“Is now a bad time?”

Looking up you saw John poking his head in the room, a playful smile on his face as he waited for your invitation to join you.

“Now is actually a great time, please.”

A slight laugh came from you as John found a place on the couch, studying your expression and sensing how stressed you were. Before you could say anything more he pulled you into his chest, one hand rubbing your back while the other rested in your hair. You felt yourself melt in his embrace, that hug not what you’d expected, but everything you needed. John could feel you relax the moment his arms wrapped around you, a smile on his lips knowing such a small action could bring you so much comfort.

“Thank you, I, I really needed that.”

A soft blush on your cheeks as you pulled away, tucking some hair behind your ear as he smiled down at you.

“It’s okay to be stressed. This is a crazy experience, probably more for you than the rest of us. But, a crazy experience nonetheless.”

John’s hand rested on your thigh as his thumb traced circles over the fabric of your dress, simply enjoying being there with you in that moment and not needing to have conversation or ask you tons of questions that could add to your stress.

“Y/n, we’ve got 5 minutes before first rose.”

Biz popped his head in to give you the warning, a soft smile on your lips as you thanked him. Looking at John with a sigh, you apologized.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get time to really talk, I was busy being stressed.”

He wrapped you in a hug once more before heading off to rejoin the group. “Don’t apologize, I think we spent our time exactly how you needed it. And I’m happy to have helped in any way that I could’ve.”

Entering the room to see all of the guys once again, you could feel your heart beating out of your chest. Their eyes on you as you stood before them holding the first rose of the night. All of them were hopeful that their name would be called, knowing it would be a boost in confidence for them heading into next week.

As you scanned the room, you took a deep breath, a smile on your face as his name sat on your tongue, eager to shout it out and see his reaction. But you kept your composure, as you finally called his name.

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cherrrydragon · 6 months ago

Text

➤ you need to be yourself (love someone for loving you instead of someone really cool)

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read it on ao3

SUMMARY ↳ Tim Drake and you, throughout the years. Growing up changes things, after all. You've always valued your independence, your ability to navigate life on your own terms. Yet, beneath that independence lies a yearning—for connection, for understanding. There’s a realization settling in—a realization that friendships, like all relationships, evolve and change as you get older. You've grown alongside Tim, but perhaps you've also outgrown some aspects of your dynamic. You’ve noticed the way his muscles flex when he stretches, the way his arms have gotten bigger and you’ve seen a glimpse of his toned stomach. He’s grown up, as seen by his body. But growing up doesn’t just change your body. It also changes your mind. pairing: tim drake x fem!reader warnings: reader gets grazed with a bullet, but i think thats it (other than the angst, that is) tags/notes: unrequited love but not actually unrequited love, hurt/comfort, angst w/ a happy ending, friends to lovers, this fic was inspired by Best Friend by Rex Orange County. wc: 6.9k

You first met Tim Drake at a gala.

Your parents had promised you ice cream if you behaved well. You didn’t want to go in the first place, but the promise of a sweet treat was too tempting for your little eight-year-old mind.

Dressed in your best clothes, you arrived at the grand event, feeling overwhelmed by the opulence and the throngs of well-dressed adults. You stuck close to your parents, clutching your mother’s hand tightly as you navigated the sea of guests.

While your parents mingled with other attendees, you found yourself near the dessert table, eyes wide with anticipation. Your father said not to try anything without permission, but he didn’t say from who. Now, you have to figure out who to ask and how to ask them. Words never came easily to you.

There’s a boy coming up to you. Maybe you can ask him. Maybe not, he looks like he’s your age. An adult would know better.

“Hi, I’m Tim,” he said, offering you a smile that seemed a little too mature for his age.

You introduced yourself shyly, still focused on the food. Tim seemed to sense your discomfort in the unfamiliar environment.

“Do you want to go somewhere less boring?” he asked, glancing around to ensure no adults were watching.

Nodding eagerly, you followed Tim through the maze of guests until you reached a quiet corner of the gala hall. There, hidden from the prying eyes of the adults, Tim produced a small bag of chocolates from his pockets.

“All the chocolates have weird stuff in them. These just have chocolate,” he explains, handing one to you.

You nibble on it gratefully, taking a seat with him on a nearby bench. The two of you chatted about school, favorite toys, and the best flavors of ice cream. Kid stuff, you know how it is. Tim tells you about his parents' business, about why their work is important and that they’d appreciate your parents’ support.

“You should tell your mom and dad about my mom and dads work,” he insists. To be honest, you weren’t paying all that much attention to what he had been saying, but you’ll tell your parents about it since he asked.

Your mom shakes her head when you tell her, muttering under her breath, “They’re making their son network?” You didn't quite understand what your mother meant at the time. You only remember wanting to share ice cream with him.

From that day on, your paths crossed frequently at various events. Tim quickly became one of your closest friends, someone who understood your quiet nature and often helped you navigate social situations. You find out you’ll attend the same school, which makes you happy.

You’ve never been one for friendships. You simply just prefer being alone, often labeled as ‘mysterious’ by your peers. But Tim has dutifully kept the title of your best friend for years now.

The thing is, you’re not sure you're his best friend.

Tim Drake has his friends, and all you have is him. There’s the pretty blonde, named Stephanie, the other pretty blonde, Cassie. The lively one named Bart, and the cool one named Conner. Sometimes Tim invites you to hang out with them, but you’re not stupid. You know there’s a disconnect between you and them. You feel like you're constantly missing something when you’re around them.

You stop hanging out with them, and eventually Tim stops asking. He must’ve noticed, though, since he starts coming over to your place every Friday for movie night.

At first, it’s a bit awkward. Tim brings over some of your favorite movies, trying to rekindle that old spark of friendship. You sit side by side on the couch, munching on popcorn and watching the screen, occasionally sharing a laugh or a comment.

As the weeks go by, you start to relax into this new routine. Tim is patient, never pushing you to talk more than you’re comfortable with. Sometimes, in the quiet moments between movies, he asks about your day, your thoughts, your dreams.

One Friday evening, after a particularly intense movie, Tim turns to you with a serious expression.

"I miss hanging out with you, you know," he admits quietly. "I know things have changed between us, but I still value our friendship a lot." He scratches the back of his neck. “I know I’ve been busy lately, but a lot of things have happened. Out of my control.”

You glance at him, feeling a mix of emotions. Part of you wants to explain why you pulled away, but another part just wants to enjoy this moment of peace with Tim. You nod slightly, not quite sure what to say.

Tim smiles softly, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder gently. "Thanks for letting me come over every week. It means a lot to me."

And just like that, the tension eases between you. You realize that maybe friendship doesn’t always have to fit into a predefined mold. Tim understands you in a way that no one else does, and you’re grateful for his presence in your life.

You try-out for the volleyball team. You make it.

It becomes a staple in your life. Your afternoons are filled with shoes squeaking on the gym floors and sore muscles. The practices, the games, the friendship with your teammates—it all starts to feel like a natural extension of who you are.

The friendship with your teammates.

They form a group chat, adding you in it of course. It stops being used only for practice announcements and starts being used as ‘life’ updates from your teammates. They gossip about who they like, who they dislike, their boy troubles. You don’t say much, but when they ask you for your opinion, you give it. Apparently, you give really good advice.

You’re sixteen when you realize you’re in love with Tim Drake.

You’re not sure how long exactly, but you know that you’ve craved his presence since you’ve met him.

Tim introduces you to his boyfriend, Bernard. He’s blond. You think Tim might have a thing for blondes.

You tell Tim this later, when Bernard leaves. He only shrugs.

You wonder why you didn’t realize when Tim dated Stephanie. Probably because they dated when you and Tim were estranged. Maybe the reason you two became so was because they dated. You don’t know.

You've always known Tim as your best friend, the person who understands you better than anyone else. But realizing you're in love with him changes everything. It's a mix of emotions—joy, fear, uncertainty. You start noticing things about Tim that you hadn't before—the way he smiles, the way he talks about his interests with such passion, the way he looks at you sometimes when he thinks you're not paying attention.

That last thing might be delusion on your part.

But Tim has Bernard now, and you respect that. You value your friendship with Tim too much to jeopardize it with your feelings. So, you bury your emotions deep down and try to focus on being the best friend you can be.

“What about you, [Name]?” asks Mina, libero of your team. Mina is notorious among your friends as the one with the most boy problems. You’d never say this out loud, but you think she doesn’t know that you don’t always need to be in a relationship.

“Any boy troubles?”

Your shoelaces can’t get tied fast enough. “No.” Because there’s not. Tim has his own boyfriend. There’s no you and him, apart from being you being his friend and him being your best friend.

Lilly, setter, gives you a playful nudge, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on, spill! There's gotta be someone you're crushing on."

You chuckle nervously, shaking your head. "Really, there's no one."

Your teammates exchange knowing glances, clearly not convinced. You've always been more reserved about your personal life compared to them. They respect your privacy, but sometimes they can't help but tease. You’ve come to realize that it’s just a friend thing.

Senior year is a calm year.

Most people describe it as the most stressful yet chill year of them all. Stressful, because after this life is going to be serious and suddenly you’re swamped with creating a resume and applying to colleges. Chill, because you can simply just not do all that, and barely show up at all.

Your parents want you to go to college, but assure you that if you don’t want to, you’ll always have a place at their company. Nepotism is a beautiful thing.

You think less of Tim and think more of making this volleyball season the best it can be. It’s your senior year after all, when better to go all out? You become the reason your team wins their games. The star ace.

During the final game of the season, Tim meets you out back, just before you have to go out on the court. He's holding a bouquet of flowers—violets and peonies. His smile is nervous, uncertain, but there's a warmth in his eyes that you've come to recognize as affection.

"Hey," he starts, handing you the bouquet. "I know this might be a weird time, but there's something I've been wanting to tell you."

Your heart skips a beat as you take the flowers, your mind racing with possibilities. Could this be...?

"I've been thinking a lot lately," Tim continues, his words coming out in a rush now. "About us, about our friendship. I realize I've been a bit... oblivious, maybe. And I just wanted to say that I really appreciate you, [Name]. More than anyone else in my life."

You feel a mix of emotions—hope, confusion, and a twinge of disappointment. You try to keep your expression neutral, not wanting to betray your feelings. You’re not sure what you were thinking. You should’ve known better.

You tentatively reach out to take the bouquet. It’s pretty. “You should’ve probably saved them for after the game.” It’s meant to be a joke, but you’ve never been too good at making those.

Tim chuckles softly, his nervousness easing a bit at your attempt at humor. "Maybe. I wanted to give them to you now.”

The bouquet feels heavy in your hands, the flowers vibrant and fragrant against your fingers. “Thank you.”

You play with all your might. Sweat beads at your temple as you leap in the air. It feels like flying. You play with a fierce determination, channeling your emotions into each move, each serve, and each spike.

You spot Tim in the crowd as you’re in the air. He's watching you intently, his eyes filled with pride and admiration. The game seems to blur around you as you lock eyes with him. You almost miss the winning point.

You're surrounded by your teammates, celebrating the victory, but your eyes search for Tim. He's waiting for you at the edge of the court, a proud smile on his face.

As you approach him, still breathless from the game, he envelops you in a hug. "You were amazing out there," he says sincerely, his voice filled with admiration.

"Thanks," you manage to reply, feeling a rush of emotions—pride, happiness, and a lingering uncertainty.

“I like seeing you do things you love.” He should stop saying things like that.

Tim wants to take you out to dinner to celebrate. You initially decline, and he looks a little confused by that.

“My coach said she’d take us out to eat if we won,” you explain.

“Oh,” he says.

“Don’t worry about what Coach said, [Name],” says Anne, captain, laying a firm hand on your shoulder. “Go spend time with your boyfriend. I’ll ask her to reschedule.”

“Tim’s not my–”

“That’s okay,” smiles Tim. It’s his showman smile. “I don’t want to keep [Name] from spending time with you.” He doesn’t deny that he’s your boyfriend. Why doesn’t he deny that he’s your boyfriend?

Anne grins, fierce and sharp. “Take her out to dinner.” And that’s that.

Tim keeps a friendly hand on your back as he guides you out. “Let's go to that place we talked about last week," he suggests, his voice almost as sweet as the victory that's just come to pass. "I promise it'll be worth it."

You're filled with a mix of emotions as you walk alongside Tim, still processing everything that's happened. The restaurant is cozy, with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. Tim seems relaxed, chatting about the game, your performance, anything really. Tim’s always had a way of capturing your attention.

“Bernard and I broke up.” You almost don’t register the info, too focused on watching his face.

You furrow your brows. “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I did something?” he asks dryly.

“Have you met you?”

“Nothing happened.” He rolls his eyes. “It just didn’t work out.”

“Oh,” you reply softly, unsure how to respond to Tim’s revelation. You hadn’t expected he would talk about his relationship status, and would’ve preferred if he hadn’t. Tim continues to look at you, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you’re not sure what to say.

The atmosphere between you feels a bit heavier now, the weight of unspoken feelings lingering in the air. You've always valued your friendship with Tim above anything else, and while part of you feels a pang of sympathy for his breakup, another part wonders what it means for your relationship with him.

By the time dinner ends and you're walking back together, the tension that had briefly surfaced seems to have dissipated. Tim is back to his usual self, cracking jokes and teasing you playfully about your volleyball skills. You find yourself smiling, grateful for the comfort and familiarity of your friendship.

As you part ways for the night, Tim gives you a warm hug, holding onto you for just a moment longer than usual. "Thanks for tonight," he says sincerely, his voice quiet.

"Anytime," you reply softly, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "I'm glad we could hang out."

Tim nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he finally heads off. You watch him go, your mind swirling with thoughts and emotions that you're not quite ready to unpack yet.

In the days that follow, you notice subtle changes in your interactions with Tim. He is pulling you closer to him. He has taken you to more private places just to hang out. He seems more attentive, more considerate of your feelings and preferences. He makes an effort to spend more time with you, whether it's grabbing lunch together between classes or inviting you over for movie nights more frequently.

You feel a flutter of hope in your chest with each of these gestures, but you push it down. You know better.

Tim stops going to school for a while, and it feels like you're back to square one. Back to when he found better ways to spend his time, with others who are not you.

You meet a boy. He’s nice and he’s cute. You like him well enough, and he seems to genuinely enjoy your company. Your friends say that you guys are cute together.

He asks you on a date to a local cafe, and you agree. It's a pleasant afternoon, filled with easy conversation and laughter. He listens intently as you talk about your interests, your dreams for the future, and he shares his own aspirations with you. It feels comfortable, uncomplicated.

Comfortable and uncomplicated never last long for you.

“This is a goddamn robbery!”

Two warning shots go off, and people scramble out of their seats to cover. What kind of asshole robs a cafe? You hide under the table, mind scrambled by the sudden change of events. Your hands scramble to grab on to your date, for comfort or for reassurance you don’t know, but you don’t feel anything.

You see your date round the booth and run out of the door. He left you.

You’re left alone and bewildered, shaken by the sudden chaos. Your heart races, adrenaline pumping as you try to make sense of what just happened. Fucking asshole , he just left you!

“Put the gun down, sir.”

There’s someone in the doorway. You peek out from under the table, heart still racing, and see him—Red Robin. He’s a figure of black and red. His presence commands and reassures.

The robber hesitates, gun wavering slightly as he eyes Red Robin warily. It’s a stand-off, tense and uncertain.

“I said put the gun down,” Red Robin repeats calmly, stepping forward with measured confidence.

The robber takes slow steps to the side, gun pointed at the vigilante. Every step taken to get closer has the robber threatening to shoot. “Easy, just put it down and we can talk,” Red Robin continues, his voice steady and calm. The tension in the cafe is strong, everyone holding their breath as they watch the standoff unfold.

The robber’s hand shakes as he weighs his options, eyes darting between Red Robin and the patrons cowering behind tables. His legs carry him closer and closer. He’s.

He’s getting closer to you.

You try to move further under the table, but the robber lunges down and grabs your arm, twisting his and pulling you up. You yelp as there’s suddenly something cold pressed to your head.

“I’ll blast her brains out.”

"Let her go.” Red Robin's voice is suddenly deep and menacing.

The robber hesitates, glancing between you and Red Robin. He tightens his grip on your arm, causing you to wince in pain.

"Let her go now," Red Robin repeats, his tone firm and unwavering. Your breathing starts to pick up.

Suddenly, there's a blur of motion and a loud thud. The robber cries out in pain as he releases you, stumbling back from the force of impact. There’s a loud sound and suddenly there’s a searing pain in your side.

You whimper and stumble to the floor, holding your side. There’s a rush of movement around you as you crawl away. You hear sirens. The police are here. What good they were.

“Hey. Heyheyheyheyhey. It’s okay.” A hand removes yours and replaces it. You look at them. They’re covered in blood. “It’s just a graze. It’s okay.”

Red Robin is at your side muttering reassurances into your ear. You whimper when his hand applies pressure to your wound. He shushes you quietly. “You’re fine.”

Then his voice breaks. “You have to be.”

There’s a heavy thud of boots in your directions. “Red Robin.” It’s Batman, in all this terrifying and dramatic glory. Batman, with a quick glance at you, shifts his attention to the situation at hand. “She needs medical attention.”

Red Robin helps you sit up a little, keeping pressure on your wound while Batman assesses the situation. The cafe is now surrounded by police, and the robber is being apprehended. "Stay with me," Red Robin urges softly, his voice a comforting presence amidst the chaos. "You're going to be okay."

Paramedics arrive shortly after, quickly attending to your wound. Red Robin stays by your side, explaining what happened to the paramedics and keeping you calm. It’s strange, how easily you’re comforted by his presence.

You're taken to the hospital for treatment, where the doctors confirm that your injury is indeed just a graze. Your parents are the first to arrive, appearances rustled. Your mother sheds a tear, even after you tell her that it’s just a graze, that it could’ve been a lot worse. That makes her cry harder.

Your friends arrive next, rushing through the door. You ask how they found out what happened, and they say they were secretly watching your date from across the street. They ridicule your date, having saw how he ran away first thing. You can’t bring yourself to be irked with them.

No one else comes to visit.

You’re allowed to go back to school after a week. Tim is there, waiting by the entrance. He perks up when he sees you. You stop in your tracks as he makes his way over to you.

Tim embraces you in a hug, unexpectedly. You can’t bring your arms up to hug him back. He must notice, because he unwraps from you with a cough.

"...Hey," Tim says softly, his eyes searching yours. "I heard what happened. Are you okay?"

You nod, not being able to bring yourself to say anything. He nods as well. “That’s good.”

“...Are you sure?”

“Tim…” you sigh, finally. He perks up at your voice, looking at you earnestly.

“Do you want to go somewhere? The park? We don’t have to do anything, we can just. Sit. I don’t want you to pull your stitches or anything–”

“You weren’t even there.”

Tim shuts up, staring at you. You don’t look at him, perhaps afraid. You’ve never truly spoken your mind, preferring to simply deal with it and move on. But you… deserve better.

“I waited for you to come visit,” you whisper, looking down at your shoe. “But you never came. Did you even know?”

His hands hover in the air uselessly. “I. Of course I knew–”

“Then why didn’t you visit?” Your brows furrow. “Is that asking too much? For you to just, show up? While I’m sitting in the hospital because I barely missed being shot?”

“I was busy!”

“You’re always busy,” you groan.

Tim's expression tightens with guilt as he listens to your words, his usual composed demeanor faltering. He runs a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. "I know... I know it's not an excuse, but things have been crazy, and I... I should have been there for you. I'm really sorry."

“It’s the same thing everytime.”

“[Name]?”

“You’re not there. You apologize for not being there. I accept, we move on. And then it happens again.”

Tim's shoulders slump slightly, and he takes a moment before responding, his voice quieter now, tinged with regret. "I... I don't want it to be like that. I want to be there for you. I want to... I want to do better. You just… you don’t know what I have going on in my life.”

You glance up at him, meeting his gaze. His sincerity is evident, but so is his struggle with balancing his responsibilities. You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of frustration and a longing for understanding.

“I don’t know because you don’t tell me anything,” you mutter.

He takes a step closer, hesitant but determined to bridge the gap that has formed between you. “I’m sorry, but please. You're… you’re my best friend.”

You shake your head. “You’re my best friend. I’m just… convenient for you.”

Tim's expression softens, hurt flickering across his features before he shakes his head. “No. No, please don’t think that.”

“What else am I supposed to think?”

Tim's eyes search yours, pleading for understanding. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I... I know I've let you down. And I'm sorry for that. You mean more to me than just convenience. I don't always… know how to balance everything.”

His admission hangs in the air, vulnerable and raw. You feel a pang of sympathy mixed with frustration. Tim has always been your closest friend, but for a long time, it's felt like he's slipping away, caught up in his own world.

“Can you just,” you pause, feeling like your entire world just shifted on its axis. “Leave me alone?”

“...How long?” he croaks.

You hesitate, the weight of your words heavy on your chest. "I don't know, Tim. I just. I need some space right now."

He nods slowly, expression twisted with anguish. “Okay,” he says softly. “Whatever you want.”

You wanted him, but that’s not possible.

Tim stands there for a moment, as if searching for something else to say, but ultimately turns away. You watch him go, feeling a mixture of relief and sorrow.

Days pass, and Tim respects your request for space. The halls of school feel different without his constant presence, a reminder of the void left by his absence. You start spending time on rooftops at night. You find solace in the quiet, away from the complexities of school and relationships. The city lights spread out beneath you, casting a gentle glow on the world below.

You've always valued your independence, your ability to navigate life on your own terms. Yet, beneath that independence lies a yearning—for connection, for understanding.

There’s a realization settling in—a realization that friendships, like all relationships, evolve and change as you get older. You've grown alongside Tim, but perhaps you've also outgrown some aspects of your dynamic. You’ve noticed the way his muscles flex when he stretches, the way his arms have gotten bigger and you’ve seen a glimpse of his toned stomach. He’s grown up, as seen by his body.

But growing up doesn’t just change your body. It also changes your mind.

It changed the way you see Tim. He’s matured into a strong and confident person, and you can’t help but notice the way he holds himself now. He’s more than just your childhood friend—he’s become someone you admire for his determination and resilience. Yet, amidst this newfound admiration, there’s still a part of you that remembers the boy who used to share chocolates with you at galas, who understood your quiet nature and sat by you during movie nights.

You can try to move on. You can hang out with other people, but he’ll always be in the back of your mind. You know you miss him. Every time you see him at school, you feel a pang of longing, mixed with a hint of resentment.

“You shouldn’t be out so late.”

You don’t move your head from where it’s rested on your arms on top of the ledge. Footsteps echo closer, until a figure clad in red maneuvers himself to sit on top of the ledge. Red Robin has decided to pay you a visit. You hope he doesn’t think you’re up to no good.

It’s silent for a moment, only the sound of wind rustling and cars moving able to be heard. The vigilante coughs, fidgeting.

“...You didn’t tell me why you were out so late.”

“You didn’t ask,” you mutter, finger trailing the surface of the ledge.

“I guess I didn’t,” he chuckles awkwardly. He shifts, the dim glow from the city below casting a subdued light on his features. His suit blends with the shadows, making him seem almost ethereal against the night sky.

“It’s just that,” he pauses, straightening his shoulders once he seems to find his confidence. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out alone so late.”

You raise a brow at him, which makes him falter ever so slightly. “I’m on a rooftop. There’s no one else here.”

“I’m here,” he points out.

“You are,” you agree. “So now that you have me alone, are you gonna do something to me?”

He sputters, waving his hands. “No! No, God no. I promise. I help people, not–” he stops, hearing a sound. It’s your laughter. It’s nothing grand, but it’s genuine. The vigilante relaxes a gentle smile on his face as he takes you in.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, eyes closing. It’s pretty late. You could honestly fall asleep here. Red Robin lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his shoulders dropping in relief. “Bad joke.”

“No, no. It was good,” he assures. “You got me good.”

The moment stretches between you, filled with the easy silence of two people who have unknowingly shared many quiet moments together. Red Robin’s presence is both comforting and disconcerting.

A finger gently pokes you, stirring you awake. “Sleep at home, not here.”

You blink a few times, slowly lifting your head from your arms, feeling the cool breeze brush against your cheeks. Red Robin’s face is close, concern etched in his features. You yawn, stretching out your limbs and reluctantly pushing yourself up from the ledge.

“Are you not sleeping well?”

“No more than usual,” He offers a hand to help you stand, and you take it, feeling the strength in his grip. Once on your feet, you dust off your clothes and glance around the rooftop, a part of you reluctant to leave the serene view behind.

“Let me walk you home,” Red Robin offers, his voice gentle but firm.

“Sure.”

As you walk together, the city around you hums with a nocturnal life of its own. The streets are quieter, but not entirely deserted. Red Robin stays close, his presence reassuring. You steal glances at him. Something about him feels familiar. Maybe it’s just because he’s friendly.

When you turn back to thank him once you’re at your front door, he’s gone.

It becomes a routine, meeting him on that rooftop. Sometimes he doesn’t show, you feel eyes watching you when you’re walking back home. The days blend into nights, and you find yourself looking forward to those moments on the rooftop. The city feels different when you're up high, watching from a vantage point few ever see. It's a perspective that offers clarity, a place where the noise of everyday life fades into the background.

One evening, you arrive on the rooftop to find Red Robin already there, leaning against the ledge, gazing out at the city. He turns when he hears your approach, his expression softening.

“You’re early tonight,” he comments, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Needed some fresh air,” you reply, settling beside him. “And some company.”

He chuckles softly, the sound blending with the distant hum of the city. “Well, you’ve got both now.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that speaks volumes without needing words. You find yourself studying him, noticing the way his eyes reflect the city lights, the slight tension in his shoulders that eases the longer you sit together.

“Why do you come here?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence. His tone is curious.

“I like being alone,” is all you say.

He nods thoughtfully. “I get that. Sometimes it’s easier to think when you’re away from everything else.” He looks at you. “Surely you’re not lonely though, right?”

“Lonely?”

“Like…” he hesitates, “you have friends?”

“I do,” you hum, furrowing your brows. “But. I don’t know. The girls on my team are nice, but I don’t really feel all that connected to them.”

“Is there no one you feel connected to?”

“There was somebody, but,” you trail off, looking towards the skyline. “People change. I guess I just can’t keep up.”

Red Robin listens quietly, his gaze thoughtful. "Change can be hard," he agrees softly. "But it's also inevitable. We all grow, evolve... sometimes in different directions."

"Yeah," you murmur, staring out at the city lights. "I guess that's part of growing up."

He whistles slightly. “So, who was that somebody?” You raise a brow at him. “If you’re comfortable sharing, that is!”

“Didn’t take you for a gossip,” you mumble.

Red Robin laughs softly, the sound light and almost musical against the backdrop of the night. “It’s not gossip if I’m just listening.”

You consider his words, your gaze drifting back to the cityscape. “It was my best friend,” you admit quietly. “We grew up together, shared everything. But lately... things have changed. We’ve changed.” You sigh softly. “Sometimes I wonder if I did something wrong, or if it’s just... life.”

“I’m sure you did nothing wrong,” he whispers.

“I was in love with him. I think I still am.”

The admission hangs in the air between you, heavier than any silence that had come before. Red Robin shifts beside you, his posture suddenly more alert, more focused on your words.

"In love?" he repeats softly, as if testing the weight of the phrase.

“I kind of realized it when he introduced me to his then boyfriend. But by the time I understood my feelings, it felt too late. He has friends and big things happening for him, and all I have is him,” you mumble. “But I guess I don’t have him anymore.”

“He let me down so many times and I don’t even have it in me to be angry with him. I just wish he chose me.” You turn to face him.

Red Robin's expression is unreadable beneath his mask, but there's a softness in his eyes that wasn't there before. He listens intently, not interrupting your flow of words, allowing you to spill the feelings that have been bottled up for so long.

Your face turns sad. “But maybe I’m being selfish.”

Red Robin's hand moves slightly, as if he's about to reach out to you, but he stops himself, clenching it into a fist instead. "It's hard," he says gently. "Loving someone who doesn't see you the same way, or who can't be there for you like you need them to be."

You stare at him as he continues, “I know it can’t compare to what you felt, but I’ve been so upset for the longest because I couldn’t share this part of my life with you.” He gestures to himself. “I was angry I couldn’t share with you the crazy things that happen on patrol or rely on you to patch me up if things go bad.”

The fog in your head clears. You look at him in confusion. “What?”

“But I was also so scared of bringing you into this life. I didn’t know if you felt the same and I thought I would just be dragging you into something that wasn’t worth it.”

You blink, staring at Red Robin in shock as the realization dawns on you. The pieces start to fit together—the familiarity, the way he seemed to know you, the concern in his eyes.

“Tim?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he removes his mask, revealing the face of your childhood friend. Tim’s eyes are filled with vulnerability and a hint of fear, as if he’s terrified of what you might say next.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t mean to keep this from you for so long. I wanted to protect you, but I ended up hurting you instead.”

Your heart races as you take in his words, the weight of his confession settling over you. The anger, confusion, and longing that have been building up inside you finally find an outlet.

“I thought,” he pauses, finding the words, “if I stayed away, you would be safe. You’d find other people and you wouldn’t need me anymore.” He shakes his head. “But I couldn’t stay away. You weren’t selfish [Name]. I was.”

The night seems to stretch on, the air tense with unspoken words. You look at Tim, still grappling with the shock of his revelation. His vulnerability pierces through the stoic facade you’ve seen him wear as Red Robin. The weight of his confession hangs heavy between you, stirring emotions you’ve kept buried.

You get up and start walking away.

Tim winces and reaches out to you. “[Name]–”

You whirl around. “I told you to leave me alone ,” you snarl. “So you go and play nice with me in your stupid costume? You pity me or something?”

Tim's expression shifts, hurt flashing across his features before he schools it into a mask of determination. "No, it's not pity. I care about you, [Name]. I've always cared." His voice is earnest, pleading almost, as if he's trying to convey the depth of his feelings without fully exposing himself.

You start pacing. “God, everything I told you–”

“I was just worried about you–”

“I trusted you.” you whisper.

He looks up at you, his expression pained. “I know I messed up. I should have been honest with you from the beginning.”

“Yes, you should have,” you snap, the anger rising in you like a tidal wave. “You had no right to decide for me.”

“You’re right, it was wrong.”

“Wrong doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you retort, your voice trembling now with a mix of anger and hurt. “Tim, I thought you were my friend.”

“I am your friend,” he insists, his voice desperate now, pleading for you to understand. “I’ve always been your friend. I–”

“[Name],” he pleads. “I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the intensity of his confession crashing into you like a rogue wave. Tim stands before you, vulnerable and raw, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding, of forgiveness.

“That’s why I did the things that I did.” His hand reaches out to gently take yours. “Because I thought I wasn't enough for you, and I know I don’t deserve you, but I still love you.”

His hand, warm and trembling, rests gently over yours. The city lights cast a soft glow on his face, revealing the sincerity in his eyes. Your emotions churn in a tumultuous sea of anger, hurt, and disbelief, struggling to find their place amidst his confession.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The silence is thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Tim's gaze never wavers from yours, a mixture of hope and fear etched into his features.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“I know.”

“I deserve better.”

“I know.”

You sigh deeply, head dropping. “Maybe it’s too late,” you say quietly, your voice wavering. “Maybe we’ve both changed too much.”

“I��m sorry.”

“You’re so unfair,” you growl, eyes growing wet. “I was trying to move on, and then you just come and do this.”

Tim winces.

You run a hand down your face tiredly. “And I still love you. God. Maybe I hate myself just as much as I hate you.”

“Don’t say that about yourself–”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

You point both fingers at his face. “You. You owe me so much.”

He nods rapidly. “I’m talking months, years of making this up to me,” you say, eyes looking into his. “You’re gonna do anything I ask and tell me anything I want to know.”

“Whatever you want, pretty.”

You raise a brow. He purses his lips. “Sorry. You’re kind of hot right now.”

“I’m always hot.”

“You’re right, I apologize.”

You glance at Tim, your anger softening. Despite everything, his familiar charm still manages to tug at your heartstrings. You let out a resigned sigh, realizing that beneath the hurt and confusion, there's a part of you that still cares deeply for him.

Your hands cup his face. “I’m going to kiss you now. You don’t deserve it, but I want it. And this will be the only one you get for a while.”

Tim’s eyes widen, and he takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what’s about to happen. He places his hands on your waist, tightening when you don’t bat him off.

As you lean in, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Your lips meet his in a kiss that is both fierce and tender, a complex blend of longing and frustration. The contact is electrifying, igniting a myriad of feelings that have been pent up for too long. For a moment, the world around you fades, leaving just the two of you amidst the city lights and the quiet of the rooftop.

Tim responds with a desperateness that contrasts with the tenderness of your kiss. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid you might disappear. The kiss lingers, neither of you rushing to pull away, savoring the connection despite the turmoil that surrounds it.

Tim presses a few fleeting kisses as you pull away. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, not sounding sorry at all. “Who knows when you’ll let me kiss you again.”

“You’re such a loser. Why do I love you.”

His smile goes stupid. He shoves his face into your neck. “You love me.”

You sigh, leaning into his embrace despite yourself. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

The two of you stand on the rooftop, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city sprawled out beneath you. In that moment, amidst the complexities and uncertainties of life, you find a sense of peace—a realization that perhaps, despite the changes and challenges, some things are meant to endure.

“I’ll do right by you,” he vows.

You nod, feeling a bittersweet satisfaction. The process of healing and rebuilding trust will take time, but there’s a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, things can start to mend. You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence. “Let’s just take things one step at a time. I don’t want to rush this or force anything.”

Tim wraps his arms around you, his hold gentle but reassuring. “You won’t be. I want this bad. But whatever you want.”

Eventually, and hesitantly, Tim pulls away from you. “It’s late. Please let me take you home.”

He offers his hand, and you take it.

Tim struggles to let go of your hand as you open your front door. You compromise with a kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Tim.”

His face goes red. “Goodnight, [Name],” he replies, his voice carrying a note of hope and promise.

You close the door behind you, feeling a renewed sense of clarity. The complexities of your emotions are still there, but you have a newfound hope that things can be mended. The city outside continues its nocturnal dance, but up on the rooftop, amidst the shared moments and honest confessions, you’ve found a glimmer of possibility. And for now, that’s enough.

notes: tim only went up to you at that gala because of his parents, but his little 8 year old self saw a cutie and said fuck it we in this for life

#tim drake x reader #tim drake angst #tim drake fluff #dc x reader #red robin x reader

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togrowoldinv · 1 year ago

Text

Meet Me At Midnight

College!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

You invite Wanda to spend the holidays with you. Will your true feelings for each other be revealed?

Note: I can’t believe it’s almost new years. Enjoy this Wanda fic!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You’ve casually known Wanda Maximoff for a few months now. You met her in your literature lecture. The girl seemed mysterious, but not in an off-putting way.

Wanda was assigned to be your project partner for the semester. Like typical college students, you two exchanged numbers that first day but didn’t think about working on the project until late in the semester.

She sent you a text a few weeks ago and the two of you began working on the final project. Upon working with her, you realized just how amazing she is. Her and her brother moved to America for college, that explains her enchanting accent.

By the end of the semester, you completed the project and presented it to your class. Wanda suggested celebrating your successful work with dinner. You agreed, and the two of you went out for dinner and drinks that night.

Somehow, the holidays were brought up, and Wanda told you she was not able to go home to celebrate. You asked her to come with you to your family Christmas. She was so excited to see a true American Christmas, and to not be alone.

It went by quickly. Your family took Wanda in and made her feel at home. The girl loved it so much that she decided to stay for the New Year’s celebrations as well. You take her to the grocery store with you to get last minute needs for the holiday.

“Wanda, do you want red or white wine for tonight?” You ask her.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Wanda says. She leans over you and places her chin on your shoulder. You like how affectionate she is with you. “Whatever you like best.”

“Come on, Max, you gotta pick some food and drinks out too, or my mom will be mad at me,” you tell her.

“Fineee,” she says cutely. “White. And can we get some of those chips I liked the other day?”

“Doritos?” You clarify.

“Yes, them!” Wanda says.

“We can get every flavor.”

Wanda smiles and you put the white wine in the cart before moving to the chip aisle. You stay true to your word and get every flavor of Doritos, even the taco ones. Wanda also picks out some candy and other snacks.

You buy decorations for New Years so that you can go all out for Wanda. You don’t typically go this big, but you want her first real celebration to be a special one. Streamers, hats, glasses with the year on them, and all of your dishware needs are in your cart by the time you leave the store.

Wanda is buzzing with excitement when you arrive home and begin to decorate. Your family helps make the food while you decorate with the girl. You stand on a chair and hang streamers from the ceiling.

“Wouldn’t this have been easier if I got up there?” Wanda asks. “I am taller.”

“No, I got this,” you say, but just as you do you lose your balance on the chair from standing on your tippy toes.

You begin to fall backwards but Wanda’s hands on your hips stop you. She helps you stand upright again.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Yeah, thank you,” you reply. Her hands remain on your hips, and she pats them softly, a silent gesture for you to get down from the chair.

“Let me finish for you,” Wanda says. She steps up in the chair.

You can’t help but watch as her sweater rises up as she hangs the decorations. Her perfect frame is distracting. You almost don’t hear her when she asks for a hand to help her down. Her soft hand rests in yours even after she is back on the ground.

“This looks amazing,” Wanda says.

“It really does,” you agree.

The two of you get swept away by your mother to help prepare food for the party. Time flies by and soon the guests begin to arrive. It’s mostly family friends, but a few of your friends from college are here too.

Wanda enjoys meeting everyone and hearing stories about you. You try to keep her away from your gossiping mother’s friends but it’s no use. They reel her in and tell her all about your child and teenage years.

“She seems great,” a voice interrupts your gaze on Wanda.

“Natasha, so good to see you!” You tell the woman.

“You too, y/n,” Nat says. She hugs you. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“Oh no,” you reply. “Just a friend from college.”

“Sure,” Nat says. “That’s why she’s staring daggers through me.”

“What?” You turn to see Wanda is staring at you and Natasha. There’s a look on her face that isn’t quite readable, but you can tell she’s unhappy.

You decide to walk to Wanda and steal her away from the gossipers.

“Hey, there’s some more people I’d like for you to meet,” you tell her. She nods and follows you back to where Nat is standing. “This is Natasha.”

“Nice to meet you,” Natasha speaks to Wanda.

“You too,” Wanda replies a bit grumpily.

Another woman walks up behind Nat and wraps her arms around her. Wanda looks at you confusedly.

“And just in time Maria shows up,” you joke.

“I’ve been here,” she replies. “Just got a little distracted by the fondue.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Nat asks.

“Maria, this is Wanda,” you say.

“Great to meet you, Wanda,” Maria says. “You’ve got a good one here.”

“Oh, it’s not-” you begin but Wanda interrupts you.

“Thank you,” she says, placing her hand in yours.

Nat and Maria get pulled away, leaving you and Wanda standing there together. She still has her hand in yours.

“Are you alright?” You ask Wanda.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She drops your hand.

“Okay. Let’s just go get a drink,” you suggest.

For the rest of the night, Wanda seems to have shaken off her weird jealousy of you and Natasha. Or really you and anyone that’s not her. But when it’s five minutes until midnight you can’t find her anywhere.

“Wanda?” You call up the stairs, thinking maybe she went to your room. You get no response but go upstairs anyways.

She is sitting on your bed when you arrive. Four minutes until midnight.

“Hey, what are you doing up here? The ball is about to drop,” you say.

“I just needed a minute,” she says.

“Right, okay. I’m sorry. I know that my family and friends can be a lot.”

“It’s not that,” she says. “Well it is, but it’s not.”

You close the door behind you and sit next to Wanda on your bed.

“You’re missing home?” You ask.

“I always miss home,” Wanda replies. “But being with you here has felt kind of like home.”

“I’m so glad,” you say. You glance at your watch. Three minutes until midnight. “What’s bothering you then?”

“Do you like me?” Wanda blurts out unexpectedly.

“What? Of course I like you, Wanda,” you say.

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Do you like me like me?”

“Oh.”

“Because well, I like you,” Wanda says. “And what’s bothering me is that everyone else seems to really like you too.”

“What like Nat?” You ask. She nods. “That never happened, Wanda. We’re friends.”

“But you’re attracted to her.”

“Well, you have eyes,” you try to joke, but Wanda doesn’t smile. “She is a friend.”

“And so am I,” Wanda says with a frown on her perfect lips.

“Yeah, but if you want to be more than friends then we could try?”

“Really?” Wanda asks.

“Really,” you say. “You’re so beautiful, Wanda. And so smart, cool, funny, and passionate.”

Wanda smiles the most perfect smile you’ve ever seen. You hold her cheek in your hand and brush her hair back with the other. She leans in closer.

“Wait,” you whisper. You hold up your watch. “Count with me. Ten, nine, eight…”

You count all the way down to one and Wanda kisses you as soon as she can. She practically straddles your lap as she deepens the kiss. It’s everything.

“Wanda,” you say softly, pulling away to breathe. “We need to go celebrate with everyone.”

“But I want to kiss you,” Wanda pouts.

You kiss her pouty lips and almost lose your will to stop.

“We can do this all we want later,” you tell her. “Right now it’s time to celebrate the new year with everyone. What do you say?”

“You promise we’ll do this again?” She asks.

“And again. And again. And again,” you reply, leaving a kiss to each of her cheeks and her forehead with your words.

Wanda smiles and lets you take her hand. You two walk downstairs together and spend the rest of the night celebrating New Years. It’s the best beginning to a year either of you have ever had.

You hope for many many more with Wanda by your side.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff comfort #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff angst #college!wanda #natahsa romanoff #maria hill #pietro maximoff

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