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frannyzooey · 2 days ago

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Midnight

Din Djarin x f!reader

Rating: E

A/N: Happy New Year’s Eve! ❤️ Thank you for being so kind and patient with me this year — it’s been a long one, but this place has made it all the more tolerable. This has been a WIP since 2021 (!!) and it was so wild to brush it off and compare how much my writing has changed since then — thank you for sticking around, for being so supportive and for being a part of this community. I appreciate you all and hope you all have a great 2025! 🎉🎊🍾

—

9PM

The kitchen is already packed.

It’s been an hour since you arrived to the greeting of your coworkers broad smile, getting her for all of two minutes before you promptly lost her again. You’d seen pieces of her since, shimmers of her silver dress in between the crowd of bodies: her arm extended to hand someone a drink, her hip pressed against the counter to refill a chip bowl, her bright laugh above the din of conversation.

The beer in your hand had started out cold, but now borders on luke warm as you take a tentative sip. You grimace at the flavor, yet hold onto it, if only for something to do with your hands.

“Why are you drinking that?”

She appears in front of you, at last, the only person you know here. Pulling a face at the bottle in your hand, she lifts her eyebrow. “You don’t drink beer. Couldn’t find anything better at the bar?”

“I didn’t even see a bar,” you reply, standing on your toes to look around the room. All you see are shoulders and heads, a sea of pointed hats with shiny poms of tinsel on top.

She rolls her eyes with a smile, plucking the beer from your grip to take your hand in hers.

“Over here,” she leads, tugging you towards the living room.

Turning your body sideways to get through the crowd, you grin when the bar comes into sight.

The cart is an art-deco elaborate thing, mirrored and gilded. You remember her shopping for it online at the office, hiding the screen whenever your manager would walk by. Its beauty is hidden underneath a crowd of bottles, just as tight as the people in her apartment, and she twists and turns them, searching.

Lifting one up, she offers something else with a familiar smile. “Gin?”

You grin. “Yes please.”

–

10PM

One heavy handed gin and tonic later, you’re feeling much better about the situation.

You haven’t seen your friend in awhile, but that’s okay – your other coworkers have arrived.

“Okay but why is it such a personal thing?” you ask, tipping your cup to slip an ice cube into your mouth. “I know which one is yours – the one with Snoopy on it – and it’s not like it would be wrong if I took it, but it would feel wrong, you know?”

Your coworker nods earnestly. “Coffee cups in the office are weird thing, man. They aren’t labeled, but like…you just know.”

He shuffles forward for someone to pass by him, and you back up to make room, your back pressing against the stranger behind you. They are a solid wall of heat, and before you can turn and apologize, the ringing shout of more people being welcomed draws your attention in the direction of the kitchen door. Your friend appears under the archway a second later, leading a train of people through the crowd and as everyone parts to make room, the person behind you reaches back, placing their hand on your hip. Their hold pushes you lightly towards the wall, out of the way.

Looking down, you see a man’s hand – thick fingers, a broad palm and when you turn around, you find the owner.

Jesus Christ.

He’s fucking gorgeous. Tilting your chin up to start with the dark mop of his curls, you hungrily take in the rest of his face: a strong nose, plush lips, jaw covered in scruff. Easily the most handsome person you’ve ever seen, you’re frozen in place, and his neat mustache twitches with amusement.

“Hey,” he greets you, turning to fully face you. “Sorry,” he gestures to your hip with a flick of his eyes. “Didn’t want you to get run over.”

Those eyes. Those fucking eyes. Beautiful and brown, rich and dark – with creases that fan out when he smiles. He waits you out, and you wonder if he’s used to your reaction, or if his silence means he’s just as enamored as you with what he sees.

You hope it’s the latter, though you’re sure it’s the former.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, and he grins, a dimple appearing in his cheek.

A fucking dimple? Are you kidding?

“Din,” he says, pointing towards himself with the neck of his beer bottle. When you give him your name, you don’t miss the way his eyes slip down the length of your body and crawl back up. So open and blatant with his expression, it’s almost as if he doesn’t think you can see it.

Or maybe he knows you can, but doesn’t care.

Giddiness pools in your chest, and he gestures for your glass.

“Can I get you another?” he asks over the noise of the party.

“Sure.”

You grin, and he mirrors it.

–

11pm

How can someone be this good at charades?

It’s uncanny, his ability to convey so much with gestures alone. You wonder if maybe it has something to do with his confidence, or the graceful, commanding movement of his body. It’s like you’ve been able to read his mind and he yours, the two of you synced up after forty minutes in each other’s presence. He says nothing, and still, you understand every time.

His face is so subtly expressive, that’s what you think makes it. Or maybe it’s his hands, – large, capable looking things that he seems so deft with.

They’ve been touching you since you met — a firm pressure on the small of your back to guide you through rooms, a circle around your wrist when you were almost separated. A curved hold on your hip when you signed him up for charades, a gentle brush of his fingers when he slipped the strap of your dress into place after a round.

He comes back from the bar, two water bottles in hand and his weight drops on the couch next to you, his thigh pressing tight against your own.

The cushion forces you to lean into the bulk of his body and turning your head to the side, you whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “We’re killing them.”

The divot below his ear holds the best scent – heady and masculine, warm in the best way – and he smiles, returning a whisper of his own.

“I know.”

His boyish grin is deceptive, hiding how competitive he’s been this entire game, a trait that you find yourself liking. Not boastful like most guys, but more like he brims with a quiet confidence. Like he’s just sure of himself, his commanding presence drawing you in.

The other team starts, their shouts fading into the background as his eyes drop down to your mouth. You wait with bated breath for the flirty line that most men would deliver at this moment – but none comes. Instead, he stays silent, letting his eyes do all the talking.

They roam over your features, blatant and bold in their quest. His smile falters, slipping into something with more intent and the warmth held in his eyes simmers to turn into something darker, hungrier. Your mouth waters in anticipation, your tongue gliding over your bottom lip, and you watch as he follows its path.

His hand rests on top of your knee, encompassing it within his warm hold. The touch sparks a line of want that zips up the inside of your thigh to the damp crotch of your undies, a beat pulsing between your legs. It curls behind your belly button, pooling between your hips – a sticky slick ache that makes you press your thighs together.

The corner of his lips tug upwards as if he knows.

A chorus of groans declares you winners and he squeezes your knee in victory, his eyes still on yours.

11:59pm

“FIVE! FOUR!”

The cheer of the guests counting down is deafening, and you wince at the sound even while shouting yourself. Din’s arm drapes around your shoulders, the weight of it keeping you tucked along his side as he protects you from being crushed.

“THREE! TWO!”

Lifting your drink into the air, you grin up at him when he does the same. Couples around the room turn to each other, and you tip your chin upwards, your cheek fitting into the crook of his shoulder. He looks down at you, his arm tightening in its hold and it’s like a magnet pulling your mouths towards each other, anticipation building to a breaking point.

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”

The room explodes in cheers and shouts, and he leans down to meet your mouth with his.

It’s a firm, sure kiss; his lips softly molding to yours. You savor it, pushing up on your toes to prolong it and when you pull back, you notice micro-expressions flit over his face: his eyes brightening before darkening with want, his lips pursing like he’s already missing the press of yours. He bends to kiss you again, and when his lips part yours to deepen the kiss, sparks burst and skitter through your limbs like the fireworks exploding outside. You lean into it, throwing your arms around his neck, your fingers threading into the curls at his nape and the strength and surety of his hold lifts you upwards, your toes skimming the floor, the wood underneath pulsing with the party.

No one notices when you slip from the room, or when he takes a bottle of champagne from a table as you pass it. No one notices when you climb the stairs, or when you slip into the last door on the right. Lost in their own celebration, the tune of Auld Lang Syne follows you down the hallway, the joyous melody muffled when he shuts the door behind you.

“I thought maybe we could celebrate in here. Alone.” His voice is so much richer without the noise of the party competing against it, and the boldness of the statement makes you flush with heat.

He takes a swig of champagne straight from the bottle and hands it to you, smiling when you do the same. The bubbles dance and burst on your tongue, similar to the feeling in your stomach when he pulls you in for a kiss. The flavor of the champagne is on his tongue, his mouth moving with intent and the music in the other room shifts to a heavier bass beat when he guides you backwards, his smile felt against your mouth.

You hit the bed with a breathless laugh, the weight of his knee dipping the mattress when he crawls up over you and though you have felt the heat of him next to you all night, it’s nothing like how it feels when he settles his body on top of yours.

His mouth immediately meets yours and his hands are everywhere, grasping anything he can reach: sliding from his hold on your nape to caress the round of your bare shoulder. Slipping the strap of your dress down as his touch skates downward, palming the weight of your breast. You arch into his touch, your whine muffled by his hungry mouth and his hips rock forward into yours. Your thighs widen, your skirt falling up around your hips, and his hand continues its way south, curling around the plump curve of your hip with a squeeze. His thumb picks at the band of your panties, and you squirm, forcing contact between the heft hidden underneath his fly and the soaked, delicate fabric that covers your core.

He’s hard – so hard, so thick with promise – and his mouth finds the hollow of your throat, smearing over the line of your collarbone before moving down to the swell of your breasts. You tug the collar of your dress down, an action that makes him stop – but only for a moment.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, husky and low, the words of reverence rumbling from his chest. Then he’s surging forward, cupping the weight of your tit in his hand, his mouth closing around the peak. The shock of warm wetness and suction when he pushes more of it into his mouth has you moaning shamelessly underneath him, your back arching to encourage the dull scrape of his teeth over your nipple.

You push him back, your hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt, and he sits up on his knees, reaching back to tug it off. He tosses it onto the floor, immediately draping his body back over yours. Your dress and bra tugged down around your waist, the weight and warmth of his firm chest against yours is delicious and heady as he continues to kiss you drunk.

Just as sure and competent as he was in the other room, he wedges his hand between your bodies and finds your clit with the pads of his thick fingers, rubbing it until you soak the crotch of your underwear with need. He can feel it, the sodden fabric slipping under his touch and he breaks your kiss, bringing his hand up to his mouth. His lips wrap around his fingers, a deep, satisfied groan pouring from his throat while you watch from underneath him, your jaw slack with want.

Your intense need for him snaps, your pussy clenching as you watch him suck and you frantically fumble with his belt buckle, working it open. Your hand trembles as he helps you, his mouth capturing yours in another consuming, frantic kiss that has him eating at your mouth and when you pull him out together, your breathing hitches in your throat at the heft that smacks against your inner thigh.

You try to look down, his broad chest blocking the view and it’s almost better that you can’t see it. There is something about the anticipation of it, the touch without the sight. You feel his hand wrap around the base of his cock, working to notch it at your entrance and when he breaks you open on the thick tip, you hold your breath, savoring it.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your jaw clenching. Aching for it ever since you turned to face him in the kitchen, the filling weight of his cock is overwhelming, your body being forced to make room for it. The snug, slick fit has you whining underneath him, begging him for something he’s already giving you.

“You feel so good,” you moan, and he gives you a smug look in return. His expression is laced with pride, his eyes hooded with arousal, his hips pushing forward until he’s in all the way down to the base.

“So do you,” he breathes just over your mouth, and you pull him in for a kiss, needing his lips on yours.

Expecting a fast fuck squirreled away in a bedroom that belongs to someone else, what you don’t expect is how intense it feels. His cock is a relentless, filling stroke that claims, his mouth breaking contact only when he wants to watch: his dark eyes trailing over your open mouth, your bouncing tits, your pleading expression.

And then he’s back on you again, filling you deeper, harder.

Your fingers weave into his sweat damp curls, keeping him close. The muscles in his torso shift against your own, highlighting the hidden strength held in them. His thighs spread for purchase, forcing yours open wider and his hand grasps handfuls of your bottom and of your hip to keep you in place underneath him. Knowing you have to be somewhat quiet, you drink each other’s moans.

You hear another couple stumble down the hallway – a thud against the wall followed by a loud laugh. The door knob jiggles and his hand clamps over your mouth just as a throaty moan breaks free. You whine into the humid curl of his fingers, and when the people outside jiggle the doorknob again, Din picks up his pace.

He fucks you: the weighted press of his body paired with the weighted press of his hold has you forced to take it, and when the couple outside moves on with a loud laugh to find their own private bedroom, he slips his hand off your mouth, fisting the bedding next to your head instead.

“Sorry,” he pants. “Didn’t want them to hear you.” His mouth rests next to your ear, his scruff tickling the delicate skin of your neck. “Those sounds are mine,” he breathes.

The sweet sentiment paired with the filthy confession flings you over the edge of your release, your body curling around his as a means to ground you. You want it all: the sweaty press of his bare skin, the softness of his curls, the humid press of his mouth. He fucks you right through it, restraint etched into his jaw.

“I want you…,” you start, your voice syrupy and slow, still quaking with aftershocks. “I want you to come.”

“I’m going to,” he warns, his elbows resting on either side of your face, his hand curling around the crown of your head. His lips brush against the apple of your cheek, dot the tip of your nose and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck and breathes in, his hips never ceasing. “You’re so wet. You’re so fucking wet, I’m gonna come.”

His voice has your eyes closing tight, his breathless pants for air making you pulse around his cock. The sounds he’s making are filthy – the filthiest coming right as he does.

He pulls out, but just barely – his hips slam against yours a couple of times: deep strokes that have you keening on his cock and just as his body tenses up with a deep groan that rumbles his chest against yours, his hips snap back, slick smearing from his cock along the inside of your thigh as he spends himself along the soft skin. Bracing himself on your hip, he closes his eyes tight and you take in the way he looks above you: desperate, beautiful. Hot spurts of his release pool on your skin, on the fine hair that dusts your pussy, and on the sheets underneath you – which has you wondering, for the first time, who’s room this is.

His pulse thrums underneath his tanned skin, and you ignore that line of thought, instead tipping your chin up to capture the beat in a kiss.

You hear him smile, and feel his body relax on top of yours. He hums with contentment, and finds your mouth with his own, pulling you into a deep, sated kiss.

“Happy New Year,” he breathes into your mouth. There is a beat of silence, his face shifting to nuzzle between your breasts. He kisses whatever skin he can reach, as if he’s starved for touch.

Guiding his face to yours, you nip at his bottom lip, loving the way it makes him smile against your mouth.

“Happy New Year.”

#din djarin #din djarin/you #din djarin/reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader

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da3h0lovr · 21 hours ago

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KANG DAE-HO NSFW&SFW HCS

Nsfw below the cut!!

MDNI

A/N: I've written smut before on my old account but I deleted ittt💔 so hopefully you guys like this

Pairing(s?): Kang Dae-ho x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff and smut

Warnings: Cockwarming, Cum eating, Oral (F&M rec), hair pulling, PiV unprotected (wrap ur willy), Handjob

WC: ?? Idk but it's lengthy

SFW~

(Out of games)

• softest man EVER.

• you ask for something, and he is getting it for youu

• the type of boyfriend to drop anything and everything for you, no matter how big or small it is

• 100% a kind of guy to smother you in kisses when he missed you after a loooong day at work or something

"I missed you so much baby.." He mutters in between kisses, his larger hands gently holding your face as if you'd break if he held you any tighter. "I missed you too.." You say against his lips, a small smile finding it's way to your lips.

• You bet he's cuddling you after, watching your favorite movie while matching pyjama's.

• When you started dating he'd have to ask you to play with his hair by subtly nudging his head on your chest while you guys would cuddle. But now, you just know when he wants head rubs or his hair played with.

• To add onto that, if you stop playing with his hair before he's fallen asleep, he's a whiny little baby, grabbing your hand and placing it back onto his hair.

"Jagi.. come on" He whines, a pout on his lips as he grabs your hand, his hold gentle. He places your hand back onto his hair, nuzzling himself into your hand. "You're such a baby~" You tease, and he let out a noise of protest.

NSFW~

(Out of games)

• He is 100% into cockwarming, prove me wrong.

• he'd have you on his lap, his hard cock nestled inside of you as he watches a show or something.

• But, eventually, he'd get too needy and just start thrusting up into you.

"A-ah shit.." He moans, his hands on your hips holding you steady as he slowly begins to thrust up into your dripping cunt. "So fuckin' tight" He'd quickly mutter in one breath, letting out a breath afterwards. "Oh fuck.." You whine out, your hands finding his shoulders, holding on for support.

• hear me out. He's a switch and leans towards sub!! I said it, bam.

• and to that, he is 100% a whiny and whimpery baby!! Craving praise 24/7.

• Definitely against being degraded, if you degrade him, he'll start crying and ask you if he did something wrong. (COMFORT THE BABY!!!)

• He loves it when you call him a good boy, and he'd call you mama if you do.

"M-mama.. go faster please" He whines out, closing his eyes tightly in pleasure. You move your hand faster, stroking his cock at a faster pace due to his request. He throws his head back against the plush pillows, his fingers curling as he grabs onto the sheets. His cock twitches in your hand, pre-cum oozing out of his tip. "Look at that.. such a good boy" You praise, which leads him to get closer and closer to his release.

• He's eating you out for hours if you ask. (Or if he begs enough) he doesn't do it for his own pleasure, though. He wants you to cum as many times as you can, he wants you to drench his face in your delicious juices.

• And in return, you'd suck him off, milking him for what he's worth.

You drop to your knees, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You reach up, undoing his belt. "May I?" You ask, and he nods quickly, shuffling a little closer to you. "Please.." He whispers, and you comply, taking out his hard, leaking cock. You stroke him a little before taking him in your mouth, letting out a soft hum.

• he is a man who'd love his hair pulled! Like he'd LOVE it when yall are making out and you just tug on his hair a little, or when he's eating you out. PULL. HIS. HAIR! Man will go FERAL.

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

Thank you for reading! I appreciate it, let me know if yall want some like little extended drabbles/fics of the hcs! I gladly will, I already have 2 of them that I plan to extend in the future but lmkk💞

Taglist:

@jennwonwoo

#dae ho x reader #kang dae ho #dae ho #squid game #season 2 #kang daeho #daeho x reader #player 388

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everyonewooeverywhere · 2 days ago

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NSFW | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

summary: yeosang has been trying to make you cum on his tongue since the dawn of your relationship, but he has yet to do so successfully. turns out, his roommate happens to be a pretty good teacher.

pairing: bf!yeosang x afab!reader x yunho

genre: smut | established relationship

rating: 18+

word count: 1.3k

content/warnings: fem-bodied reader (no gendered pronouns), oral sex (reader rec), brief voyeurism (kinds), yeosang has a lot of doubts :(, slight mxm, hardly edited, pretty subby yeosang

notes: hiii @yuncheoligans i was your secret santa!! i honestly struggled to put together a good idea for this, but i hope you like it!! 💗

also i hope you all enjoy my last fic of the year!! love you all dearly! 💗

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered in barely a breath, his lips nearly brushing over yours in the process. You giggled softly at his caution. He was asking you so sweetly despite already being naked on top of you with his hands holding your bare hips.

You nodded with a smile and let him press his lips softly against yours, so gently yet full of desire. God, he was so needy, and you were living for it. You’d felt it in the air all day, and you’d felt it, especially in the shower when he’d wasted no time playing with you. Your pretty needy boy.

Without even feeling it, you knew his heart was racing. You could feel it in the desperation of his touches. The way he seemed on the verge of falling apart. And, when you ran a hand through his hair, his little shudder was so exhilarating.

It made you feel so good to know that everything you did drove him so fucking crazy. He couldn’t get enough of you, no matter what he did.

He pulled away from your lips and looked down at you, your head propped up on the pillows, your whole body bare and exposed for him. The soft touch of your fingers tips across his collarbone sent a shiver down his spine.

You smiled up at him. Cupping his cheek. Grazing your thumb over the birthmark under his eye.

“Angel…” he muttered. Grasping your wrist and nuzzling his face into your palm.

“Hm?” you looked up at him expectedly, “What is it, baby?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves. “I wanna try again. I wanna try eating you out again.” He looked into your eyes through his lashes, his lids fluttering when you scratched your nails along his scalp, “I know it didn’t work last time but…”

You frowned, “Baby, it ‘worked’ just fine. Pleasure isn’t exclusive to an orgasm. You made me feel good. That’s what matters,” you pulled him down to kiss his nose, “And it worked out just fine, didn’t it?”

He let out a low, breathy chuckle and nodded.

“Please,” you rolled your hips into his, begging him to give you what he promised he would, “make me feel good.”

But he took his time with it. Kissing down your bare chest. Lips caressing the soft skin of your stomach. Hands grasping your thighs, massaging them with the rough skin of his palms.

Soft sighs escaped your lips as he continued. Letting himself travel further down the expanse of your body. Taking his time appreciating every curve. Feeling a strong sense of pride every time he saw the tiny goosebumps form on your skin.

Yeosang’s deep desire to be needed and praised was what kept him going. And your non-verbal affirmations, the way you would drag your nails along his scalp and the way you swung your leg over his shoulder to pull him closer, were more than enough to keep encouraging him.

He grazed his thumb over your underwear, remembering his earlier lessons about the importance of foreplay, how necessary the build up was. His eyes flicked up to your face for confirmation, and your beautiful face smiled gently back down at him, “Go ahead, baby.”

With your soft voice playing in his head, he kissed your pussy through the soft cotton, and he felt a rush of adrenaline when you ground yourself into his face. “Fuck…you’re so perfect,” he muttered.

The moan that escaped your throat was encouragement enough for him to finally slip his fingers under the waistband of your panties and slip them off your legs. And the sight of your pussy staring back at him made him twitch in his boxers. He ran a finger through your folds, assessing how wet you were. Feeling proud of himself when he realized how much his presence was exciting you.

But part of him still hesitated, though. What if he couldn’t do it again? What if it still wasn't enough? He wanted to make you cum on his tongue so bad, but every time he tried, you still needed extra help to push you over the edge. He couldn’t ever do it on his own.

You watched as his confidence deflated. Clearly lost in his head, his fingers mindlessly moving through your folds. You rolled your hips, let out a soft moan, called his name, but nothing you did seemed to give him enough of a boost. You had talked about this countless times. He assured you that he wanted this more than anything. And you were always there to remind him that he had no obligation to do so. None at all. But you knew how bad he wanted this. How much he craved the accomplishment that he now seemed too lost in his own head to follow through with.

Desperately, you looked to the other side of the room. Where Yunho sat silently watching the two of you. He was just there to be a silent presence, a blanket of reassurance, for the two of you. Yeosang had not too long ago confided in Yunho about his worries, and things had slowly evolved into the taller man being a lingering, watchful eye in these long nights.

But when you looked over at him, with a twinge of worry in your eyes, he knew that some extra steps were necessary tonight. He slid from his chair and stalked over to the bed. Quietly coming up behind your lover, placing a comforting hand on his lower back so as to not startle him.

“Yeosanggie, can I walk you through it?” You watched as Yeosang came back to himself at the calming tone of the other man’s voice.

He cleared his throat, “Please.”

Yunho’s fingers trailed along Yeosang’s spine, causing him to shiver, “Let’s start slow. Just kiss the clit. Don’t be afraid to add a little tongue, okay?”

He obeyed, and you sank further back into your pillows at the sweet pleasure of his lips. A gentle moan from your mouth gave him enough confidence to flick his tongue out. The wet muscle pressing into your bud.

“Good job,” Yunho encouraged leaning down to press a kiss to his shoulder. “Keep going. And add a finger or two when you feel comfortable.” And he did just that. Continuing to suck and kiss your clit. Humming when you moaned out his name. And when he sank two fingers inside you, it was like heaven. You wet walls sucking him in. And the more you praised him, the more confident he got. Curling his fingers in just the right spot. Reaching one hand up to place with your nipples.

“Yeo…” your back arched off the bed as you threw an arm over your face.

Yunho chuckled, “You’re almost there. Keep going.” His words to both you and your partner.

“Oh fuck, baby,” you moaned. Your walls tightening around his fingers, and your legs shaking beyond your control. Your body shook with the force of your orgasm. Crying out when Yeosang devoured you even further, lapping up the reward he’d worked so hard for.

You had to pry him off of you. Letting him climb up to you and collapse beside you as he kissed you so sweetly and gently as your body tingled with the aftershocks of your orgasm. His tongue still soaked with your taste.

Yunho sat between you two, watching you lazily make out. You broke apart when you felt his hand graze your thigh, “You two are so precious.” He placed a gentle hand on your cheek brushing his thumb over your cheekbone, “I think it’s about time I taught you how to return his favor, don’t you think?”

It seems you had a lot to learn.

general taglist:

@swimmingkpopblog @oddracha @drinkingrumandcocacola @minaateez @funnyvxlentine

@sunnysidesins @skzdust @princelingperfect @seomisaho @bigboymoozz

@fireseo @atzlordz @sunwoosbaby @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @kierraperkins3

@my-atiny-kookie-rkive

ateez taglist:

@certifiedmoa @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @curiousgworge @hyukssunflower @hotteokisms

@sushiinmidnight @atiny-dime-p1ece @mismatchfluffysocks @vic0921 @vampzity

@breadpuddingboys @woolysium @desirehorizon @im-ovulation @pommelex

@dancingwithdeities @maidens-world @jycas @kirbrary @aftertherain-atr

@staytinyinmybpack @m4n4-s4m4 @jjcanwrite @yvnhoos @uninterested-ghost

@yizhou-time @shinyj3lly @kyeos4ng @prettygirlslietoo @miriamxsworld

@tiny2018 @ttdogsworld @kejingken @fandom-freak-geek @minkioswoo

@bkimrose @strawbshrtcks @dwcljh @linearities @tiredlittlevirgo

@kwoncheesecake @sillycataround @togazzo @hwxbibi @kyeos4ng

@minkisdesire @kittenfrostt @hwasangel @kibs-and-bits @yunsitho

@autieofthevalley @midnightrebel1028 @luvjichang

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myvoiddreams · 3 days ago

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Fragments of Starlight (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: With the bond she had held tightly to her chest known now by Cassian, she fights for her own life alongside Azriel.

Word Count: 3,069

Warnings: ANGST, violence, dark themes, self-mutilation?, some fluff

A/N: I’m backkkkkkk anddd I am so grateful for everything you have all said about this little series of mine. It’s something I wanted to start up just for fun and so many of you have left me such kind words about it. I’m planning on this being the last part. I might follow up with a little epilogue of sorts if there is any interest in that! I do have some plans for different one shots I’ll be getting into soon!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

---

Now

“He’s what?” Cassian went wide eyed. He was covered in dirt and blood. His hair, which was once tucked neatly into a bun, had pieces falling that framed his distressed face.

“You heard me Cass,” I quickly sucked in shakily, not believing I had finally admitted it. Admitted it to fucking Cassian of all people.

Cassian’s face softened and his eyebrows knit. He slowly started to lean down to check his brother’s injuries when the ground started to shake around us, and a booming noise followed suite. The battlefield was only getting messier. A sense of urgency pricked his face.

“Fuck,” he stood, “It’s Nesta.” He looked between Azriel’s form and my own as I still held the injury, I had delt myself. There was conflict covering his face. He was not able to hide his emotions.

“Go Cass,” I said even though my heart spiked at my own words. A fear, the same fear of being abandoned flooded my chest, overwhelming the aching mating bond that usually held itself there. “She needs help more than we do, now that we’re healing. Go.” I spoke these words even though I was unsure if I was healing fast enough.

“Be safe, keep each other alive. I’ll be back.” Cassian said simply, his face hardening as he stood. He leaped from the ground, his great wings taking him into the sky. Red flashed across the sky as he followed the booming. The ground shook again as he took off.

A groan sounded behind me stopping my heart dead in its tracks.

I turned as quickly as my body could manage without throwing myself back down. My hand found the side of Azriel’s face as he began to stir. I kneeled in front of him and I stroked my thumb down his cheek as the bond in my chest thrummed with anticipation and anxiety.

“Az,” I shakily said his name, “Azriel, please open your eyes.”

He did, slowly, but he opened them. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. A sad smile also crept up my face, as I found his hazel eyes with my own.

“W-what happened?” he swallowed as he tried to sit up further against the tree. Hearing his voice was like a light in this fucked up bloody dark. It was cut short with a wince.

“Stay still, please. You’re a bit worse for wear.” I held back the tears that somehow found their way springing to my eyes. I couldn’t find it in myself to let go of his face as I continued to speak to him, leaving more blood from my ravaged hands upon him. “You were struck down, I saw you falling. I came to help.” I finally tore my hands from his dirt covered face and looked to his abdomen.

It was still bleeding. Why was it still bleeding? The wound had knitted the muscles slowly back together, but his flesh, the skin, was still open, still oozing.

Panic crept back into my being.

“Y/N,” Azriel began as he moved to hold my arm, but I cut him off.

“Your wings are still intact, Az, they are just fine. Your limbs too. It’s only this wound on your abdomen that remains open, and it will shut. You will be just fine.” I was spitting out my words at a rapid pace as I moved my hands from his face to the wound on his abdomen. I was shaking, becoming dizzy once again at the prospect. At the reality that we might not all make it out of this. At the fact his blood was bubbling around my hands.

“You’re shaking,” he rasped, “and paler than a ghost.” He cried between whines. He moved his head back to the tree, once again leaning on it for support.

“Cassian was just here,” I breathed out, “he was just here, and he’s okay too.” Panic was biting at my tone as I tried to calm myself down.

Azriel had used so much of his strength already in battle. His body couldn’t keep up.

More blood. My mind spat at me.

Azriel had started to teeter again with his consciousness. I could feel it deep within that bond stringing us together. It was loosening, his end was losing.

“Y/N,” his voice came out as a croak, his eyes were closed now. “Promise me something.”

“No, Azriel,” I nearly barked, “Shut up and open your fucking eyes again.” Panic laced my every word, my every breath as I ordered him around.

“Promise me, you’ll keep going. Don’t let this be the end for you. You’re stronger than you know, and this world needs you,” His voice was trailing off now. His lovely, deep voice has become nothing more than a whisper.

“Well, I fucking need you!” I grabbed onto his leathers, not caring about the state of my ruined hands, the tears now pouring down my face. My head made its way to his chest, as his hand rubbed my back. It ever so slowly stopped rubbing and fell.

I gripped onto him tighter. I sobbed into his chest. He was no longer conscious, but I could still hear, feel, his heart beating. Slowing down its rhythm, but still beating.

This would not be the fucking end of him. This would not.

Stifling my tears, I grabbed a dagger sheathed at his thigh and plunged the blade into my own arm. Rage and adrenaline fueled me once again. I was not going to let Azriel leave this world while he was fighting for his family, his court. I was not going to let my mate leave this world before me.

I do not care about the fear, the abandonment, how alone, how pitiful I felt. I cared more for this beautiful male to stay here in this world that needed him, whether he or it needed me or not.

As the blood surged from my wound, I tilted his head back and opened his mouth. He unconsciously drank.

There had to be a chance. I told myself.

The world began to tip on its axis, and I could no longer hold my arm to his mouth. My body had had enough. From the beatings, lashings, slices, burnings, and fighting. I was drained, in every sense of the world.

My body fell next to Azriel’s. With my last fragment of strength, I reached for Azriel’s hand and interlaced his fingers with my own.

My own consciousness dwindled away, but I could still hear his heart beating.

Good.

---

Before

I crashed through the woods. My bow was attached to my hand as I reached for an arrow that was in the quiver on my back. The air was beginning to grow colder, thicker. A piercing cry once again shattered the air around me. I had no choice but to drop my weapon and cover my ears.

That Gods forsaken noise. They were getting too close for comfort.

The Harpy I had the unfortunate luck of running into trailed me. I don’t know why the creature who typically hunted for valuables followed me of all people. All I had in my possession was my bow, quiver with some arrows, a couple of food rations, and the clothes on my back.

Maybe for sport this time. Awesome.

As soon as I could force my body to endure the cry once more, I scattered for my belongings and ran with all my might. I couldn’t get a sight on this infernal creature, and I’m sure it might take more than a couple of arrows to bring it down.

I just had to make it to the border. To the Night Court. The Court of Nightmares.

Also, awesome. Trading running for my life from a Harpy to a Court that would sense my presence in their walls in no time and also come tracking me down.

The Harpy was the bigger threat right now.

I felt a tug at my lose hair, at my lose clothes as I stumbled over root and rock. The creature was literally nipping at my heals.

The burning feathers of the winged beast, and sharp talons were in arm’s length now. I could feel it.

I made the mistake of looking back, but as I did, I raised my bow above my head. The beast has gnarling teeth that gnashed my way.

I brought my bow down, too close now to make any kind of shot with an arrow. Before my strike could hit the creature, a blast of blue energy passed me and knocked the creature away. It cried as it was demolished, almost incinerating in the rich light.

I scrambled back from it, my ass hitting the ground. What the fuck?

My breath hitched as my gaze locked onto the source of the power rippling through the air. A towering, winged male stood several feet away, shrouded in an aura of quiet dominance that demanded attention. His dark, leathery wings, flared wide and menacing, cast jagged shadows across the ground, their sheer size and sharp edges enough to make even the bravest falter.

A scent of mist and ceder floated towards me as he spoke, “Are you okay?”

Am I okay?

“Y-yes.” I choked out.

As he made his way closer to me, I scrambled to my feet. I dusted off my pants as properly as I could.

“What’s your name, girl?” His voice was so low and resonant.

“Y/N,” I again, could barely breath out.

He brought a slight smile to his face, “What brings you to the Night Court, Y/N?”

---

Azriel had brought me to a small village in snow covered mountains where he told me there would be a healer. This was not the behavior I was expecting from any in the Court of Nightmares, let alone who I learned afterwards was the Shadowsinger for the High Lord himself.

I spent many months in that village, surrounded by other travelers, but mostly lesser fae called Illyrians.

I poured drinks in a taven, hunted, and helped in the healing structures. Anything that would help keep my head down as I decided where to head too next.

I had run from Dawn. From a close past that did not need me to return to it. That I wanted anything but to return to.

Azriel showed up to the village months later with another Illyrian, Cassian. There was some kind of accident training, and Cassian had been sent away from their war camp to, “heal on his own.” I had a feeling this Cassian had insighted something he shouldn’t have. He had had a broken nose, ribs, and all the bruises to show for it.

There were more visits like this. I slowly grew closer to the pair, learning of Cassian being a bastard, but a budding warrior. I learned that Azriel was a Shadowsinger who worked closely with the High Lord of Night himself. It wasn’t until I was given the opportunity to work in the healing tent at Windhaven that I met Rhysand. The heir to the Court of Night himself.

---

Now

The first thing I noticed when I woke was the sound of his breathing—steady, deliberate, and too close. My eyes fluttered open to find him sitting in a chair pulled close to the bed, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his steepled fingers. Shadows curled lazily around him, flickering like restless spirits.

There was no sign of his injury. It must have been healed or bandaged under his fresh set of leathers. Light bruises littered one side of his face.

My hands and both arms were covered in wrappings. My head pounded as the light fluttered in my eyes.

"You're awake," Azriel said, his voice low and gravelly, laced with something I couldn’t quite place. Relief? Anger? Both?

I tried to sit up, but his gaze pinned me down. The intensity in those hazel eyes stole the breath from my lungs. His wings, usually so tightly controlled, flared slightly behind him, a testament to his unrest.

“You fed me your blood.” The accusation was quiet but searing. It jarred me awake.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “You were dying. There wasn’t time—”

“You should have let me die.” His words were harsh, but the way his hands trembled betrayed him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

My heart hammered in my chest. He knew. Of course, he knew. He’d felt the bond. The bond that I’d been trying to ignore, to run from. I had forced this bond onto him now. I had forced him into this while he was chasing someone else.

“I saved you,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“You bound us,” he said, rising to his feet. He began pacing, his shadows swirling more violently now, but his voice cracked on the next words. “You’re my mate.”

I flinched at the word, and he froze mid-step, his wings half-furled.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, quieter now, his tone heavy with something that sounded like betrayal.

“Because I didn’t want to be your burden,” I admitted, clutching the blanket as if it could shield me from the weight of his gaze. “I didn’t want you to feel trapped. I—I thought I could run from it.”

His expression softened, and he sank back into the chair, dragging a hand down his face. “A burden?” he repeated, incredulous. “You think you’re a burden to me?”

I looked away, but he wasn’t having it. He leaned forward, cupping my chin gently but firmly, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“You showed me I was a burden when you abandoned me in that camp and took your dear Elain instead. You showed me long before that, when I become an afterthought to you while I was drowning.” At my words, I felt regret ride down the bond.

“You are not a burden,” he said, his voice breaking with conviction. “You are my mate, my equal. You are—” He exhaled sharply, as if the next words cost him something. “You are the reason I’m still breathing. How could you ever think I’d see you as anything less than... everything?”

Tears blurred my vision. “I was scared,” I admitted. “Scared of what it would mean. Of what you’d think of me. We’ve been nothing but friends,” the word sour on my tongue, “for centuries.”

His thumb brushed a tear from my cheek. “What I think of you?” he murmured, a faint, disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. “I think you’re the bravest, most maddening person I’ve ever met. And I think... I think I was a fool not to see it sooner.”

I let out a shaky laugh, but his expression turned serious again as his hand moved to cover mine.

“Don’t ever do something like that again,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “Don’t ever risk yourself for me like that. I can’t—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “I can’t lose you.”

The bond shimmered between us, a fragile thread tightening into something unbreakable. I felt it now, as if for the first time.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

His wings drooped slightly, the tension bleeding out of him as he exhaled. And for the first time, I saw it—the unguarded relief in his eyes. The love.

Azriel pressed his forehead to mine, his voice a broken murmur. “Thank the Cauldron.”

I shut my eyes at the contact. Breathing in his scent. Relief flooded me as I pushed my feelings of love, devotion, towards him through the bond that now did not end in a wall.

Of course, I had not forgotten the time I had spent in that camp. Had not forgotten all the wrong he had done to me as of late. I wanted to be so angry with him. I wanted to yell and scream and hit him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t when he was tugging at this bond in my chest.

His hand met my chin again, tipping it towards him. My eyes opened and I met his. His beautiful, hazel orbs scanned me.

“Azriel,” I sniffled, moving to wipe away any remaining tears, “I’d really like for you to kiss me now.” I all but whispered.

He shifted slightly, his fingers brushing against my jawline, featherlight yet deliberate. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, the bond between us humming with newfound awareness. My heart pounded against my ribs as his thumb traced a gentle path along my cheek, as if memorizing every detail of my face.

“I’ve waited lifetimes for this,” he whispered, his voice rough and raw, barely more than a breath.

Before I could speak, before I could think, his lips captured mine. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like he was afraid I might disappear. But the moment I leaned into him, he deepened it, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, pulling me closer.

His shadows curled around us, cocooning us in a world where only we existed. The kiss was fire and starlight, a melding of every unspoken word, every hidden desire. It was a claim, not of possession, but of belonging—of two souls finally finding their home.

I threaded my fingers into his hair, anchoring myself to him as he poured everything he couldn’t say into the kiss—relief, joy, need, and something infinitely more profound. When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine again, both of us breathing heavily.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice trembling with certainty.

“And you’re mine,” I whispered back, my lips brushing his in a promise.

The bond that had fluttered and beat in my chest exploded. It had gripped onto my heart and forced it to beat. It had shown me what it was like to float on solid ground. To sink into pure bliss and oblivion.

There was time later, to be upset. To work through all the crap. There would be time for me to do all the yelling and screaming I wanted to. To work through if I was going to leave like I had threatened or if I was so weak from one kiss that I didn’t have the stomach to follow up on my threats.

But right now, I have Azriel. And he was all I needed.

-----

Taglist: (so sorry if I missed anyone!!)

@saltedcoffeescotch @thirstyroses-world @kingshitonly @spidersfrommars15 @mariahoedt @missromantasy @breadsticks2004 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @vhjlucky13 @helo1281917 @i-am-infinite @emptyporsche @quiet-loser @watermelomsuger @anxious-cactus @rcarbo1 @latinxbipride @chelsiemp @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @marina468 @kennedy-brooke @myromanempiree @craftytrashprincess @fairydustblossom @st4r-girl-official @darkbloodsly @kitsunetori @historygeekqueen @ivy-34 @optimisticbabydreamer @fightmedraco @maruiin @thefandomplace @bxtchopolis @annamariereads16 @whosmys @toobsessedsstuff @ineffablywriting @uncontainedsmiles @metaphysicaldoom @darksideofthemoooon @myrtle-thai @avocadorablereader @byyalady @vhjlucky13 @anxious-cactus @evergreenlark @alainabooks143 @be-your-coffee-pot @booksbypisces @chaconnelatte @cazrielfairygf @sometimeseverythingsucks @angstylittleb1tch @littlegirl-bd @watermelomsuger @zanaorian @arssunshine @buttermilktea11

#acotar x reader #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel spymaster #acotar fic

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thatonetargaryen · 2 days ago

Text

Our Tears Ricochet

Ambessa Medarda x Reader

Part 2 of: My Tears Ricochet

Synopsis: After walking in on a sight that you’d remember for endless nights to come—you mourn what is now seemingly the end of your marriage. However, Ambessa is determined not to let that happen—even if she had to get on her hands and knees.

cw; afab!reader; infidelity; heavy angst but happy ending; smut; more smut; Hex-strap; fingering ; did I mention smut? Ambessa being a bad wife but trying to fix it; not proofread; men and minors dni

Special thanks to @hell0-ki55y for original prompt and @fruitfulfashion for ending idea. Hope both of you enjoy (I’m not too good at writing smut so bear with me). 🎀

……

Your sobs were muffled by Mel’s chest as you leaned into her hold. Her slim fingers made her way through your now loose, frizzled hair. Your hands clenched onto her like a lifeline and right now—she was.

For a moment, she had a sense of deja vu. She remembered when she had first gotten her period when she was 13—the first step to becoming a woman, and instead of running to her real mother, she ran to you. You held her in your arms and the harder she cried, the tighter you hugged. The two of you rocked back and forth as she told you how scared she was, a vulnerability she couldn’t even share with her mother, and how you reassured her and cleared all doubts from her mind.

To you, the act may have thought to be necessary. An act of kindness any mother would show for their daughter. But to her, it was so much more. Every time the breeze blew in a certain way or the sun sat low in the sky—it reminded her of the warmth of your embrace. The warmth of your heart.

And now, she held you in her arms. She rocked you back and forth. And she let you cry out.

When your sobs finally died down, the two of you stayed silent for a moment. But there was a silent question in the air that had yet to be spoken, ‘What are you gonna do now?’.

Mel soothingly rubbed your arm as she looked down at you. “Do you need anything?”

You shook your head. What you needed was something she wasn’t able to give.

She took a shaky breath. “I know this is hard for you. She wasn’t always the most loving, but I never thought she would—”

She stopped as she closed her eyes and scrunched her nose. She shook her head. “I thought she loved you.”

You finally looked up at her through red and puffy eyes. You licked your chapped lips as your hoarse voice spoke, “Your mother does love me. We..wouldn’t have gotten married if she didn’t. I…”

Mel turned to you with an angry look. “Tsk. She doesn’t love you. She can’t. How do you explain what you just saw? You’ve been loyal to her for the entirety of your marriage and have stood by her when no one else did. You gave up so much for her. How can you sit here and say—”

You held Mel’s face in your hands as her own tears of frustration ran down her cheeks. You wiped them away as you spoke softly. “Mel, what your mother has done has hurt me in ways I hope you never experience. But I don’t want this to be another crack in your relationship. It’s already strained as it is. In no way am I justifying her actions but please…don’t let this affect you as much as it has me. A connection between mother and daughter is unlike any other—even one between spouses.”

Mel stared dumbfounded at your words, but stayed silent as you continued. “I love you Mel. Never forget that. Even if this causes a rift between your mother and I—I will love you no less.”

Mel fought back tears in her eyes as she held your gaze. She nodded at your words and leaned into your shoulder. You held her hands in your own. She spoke, barely above a whisper, but it was as loud as any shout—“I love you too, Mom.”

After a moment of silence, there was a vibration felt on the bed. She looked over at her phone with a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

As she checked to see whoever had messaged her, a look of realization crossed her features. “Shit!”

You looked at her, surprised at her language—but ultimately ignored it. “What’s going on?”

“I set up plans with Jayce a while back before you told me you were coming to Piltover. I totally forgot to reschedule…Now he’s on his way.”

She shook her head, “I’ll tell him to cancel and we can do it some other time. I know you need me right now.”

You shook your head, “No, no. I’ll be fine. Please, go enjoy yourself with this….Jayce.”

She looked at you softly, “Are you sure? I mean, we can always do it another time….”

You nodded, “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

She smiled as she kicked on her shoes as straightened up her hair and makeup. She threw on a robe as she changed out of her previous dress. She didn’t get the chance to choose one before she turned back to you.

You stared out the window in a pool of your own thoughts before you felt a tug on your arm.

“Come on, you’re coming with.”

“What?”, you said, surprised.

“You’re coming with Jayce and I. You said you wanted to meet him.”

You looked at her, considering her offer. “Look at me. I can’t go out like…this. I look and feel like I just had an emotional breakdown.”

She looked at you in silent agreement and ordered one of the maids outside to prepare a shower. She ushered you into the shower and said she’d be right outside if you needed her. You wanted to under the hot water, but you know you were on a tight schedule.

After you got out and dried your body and hair, she rushed over to her large vanity, pulling out a plethora of hair supplies. She ushered you over, and you sat in front of the mirror.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as she practically pampered you. She detangled, brushed, and curled your once frazzled hair. She pinned it back as she applied your preferred makeup from the bag you brought with you abroad.

The makeup was simple—yet it complimented your features. You hadn’t known Mel was so good at this. When she was small, she was gotten her first makeup kit that she begged to have for practically a year. You had been her first test subject. The looks you got from the nobles when you kept on the makeup throughout the day did little to dampen the wide smile of little Mel’s face.

When she was finally satisfied, she turned away from the vanity and started to put the things away. “Do you like it?”.

You nodded as a smile graced your features. You ran your fingers through your loose curls, careful not to mess them up. You felt prettier than you had in a long time.

“Good. Now we just need to pick an outfit.”

She went over to her closet as she raked through her many dresses. After a moment of indecisiveness, she picked a white satin off-shoulder dress that fell just above her knees, showing off her long legs. Her braids were done in a tight low bun as she let two frame the sides of her face.

Meanwhile, you were still struggling to find something to wear. You didn’t want anything too provocative since you were married despite the circumstances but you didn’t want to cover too much because of the relentless heat of Piltover.

You ended up choosing a sleeveless sage green dress with a heart neckline. It reached your ankles, being modest and flowy at the same time. You threw on a gold necklace and small diamond earrings.

Mel approached you as she took in your appearance. “You look…amazing, Mom.”

You smiled bashfully at her compliment. You threw on a purse as you both exited the room.

It was time for you to unwind.

….

The three of you ended up going to a nice restaurant not too far away. The sun was still high in the sky as the three of you looked outside the window at the beautiful view.

“So, how’d you meet my Mel?”, you asked—going into interrogation mode now that you all were seated.

The boy turned his attention to you, his charismatic personality slightly cracking under your gaze, “Well, uh—I’m actually working on a project here in Piltover. It was way before I became a council member. I was stationed in the main building and she just so happened to be there. We’ve been together ever since.”

Mel smiled, “I heard about him through the grape vine. One of the prodigies behind the Hextech. It was only a matter of time before the two of us met.”

The two were deeply in love—heart achingly so. It reminded you of when Ambessa first introduced herself to your own parents. She refused to crack under their scrutinizing gazes and answered every question as if she had meticulously prepared beforehand—which she probably did. It didn’t take long before your parents were nagging the two of you to get married.

“I take it you’ve met my wife?”, you asked.

Jayce visibly tensed at the mention of Ambessa. He took a sip of his fruit drink before clearing his throat, “I have. She was, uh….she definitely let an impression.”

The silence was loud as Mel took a French fry from Jayce’s plate.

“But if I may speak freely, Mrs.Medarda—”

You nodded towards him, curious at what he had to say.

“The two of you are so….different. From the way you look down to the aura you exude. I-I’ve heard stories as a boy detailing how you brought peace to Noxus and many other lands they once butt-heads with. They always said you were soft and kind. But you had a firm hand and possessed the political knowledge to end wars before they could they were even declared. You’ve saved the lives of so many people—soldiers, citizens, and nobles alike, and yet—”

He stopped, realizing he was rambling—a habit he picked up in his early years. “What I mean to say is, the two of you are basically the Sun and the Moon. Polar opposites.”

You smiled softly as you mindlessly toyed with the straw in your drink. “The Sun and the Moon complement each other. But if the Moon were to disappear without a trace—the Sun wouldn’t bat an eye. It would keep thriving as it always has. Yet, if the Sun were the disappear—the Moon would mourn its death for endless nights to come.”

A silence overtook the three of you, and Jayce seemed confused at the comparison. Mel spoke softly, extending the metaphor, “And yet…the world would notice if either disappeared.”

You nodded your head at her words as you pushed your plate forward. “Yes, yes it would.”

…..

As the sun started to set, the three of you headed to a nearby bar for drinks. It was getting slightly chilly, and Jayce through his jacket over Mel’s shoulders to shield her from the cold.

You simply held yourself tighter, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket.

You sighed in contempt as you finally entered the bar and took a seat. The two lovebirds sat a few seats away from you, but not too far.

The bartender made his way to you first. He wore an all black button down shirt and pants, and his jet black hair complemented his piercing blue eyes. He smiled warmly, “What can I get for you?”

You took a glimpse at the menu as you spoke tiredly, “Just a Daiquiri, please. Chilled.”

He nodded. But he stood there for just another moment, “Rough day?”

You gave him a small smile, “You could say that…”

He began to talk out the necessary ingredients for your drink at an impressive pace, “In that case, first drink’s on me then.”

You smiled at him gratefully as you gave him a ‘Thank you’. You reminded yourself to give him a generous tip before you left.

You brought the drink to your lips and took a generous sip. The taste of sugar, rum, and citrus made its way onto your tongue, and you hummed in satisfaction. You set down your glass as you looked around the bar.

You saw people smiling and laughing as they shared drinks. You saw couples giggling and holding each other tight. You saw people sitting alone—yet even they looked content. They were all happy.

Why couldn’t you just be happy?

Over the years, Ambessa started to bury herself more and more. She pulled herself away from you, often leaving you in a cold bed and practically engulfed your small frame. She wouldn’t come back until the wee hours of the morning, and even then, she wouldn’t greet you. Wouldn’t touch you. Wouldn’t even spare you a glance.

I should’ve seen the signs sooner, you told yourself. I should’ve went away before it got too far, should’ve filed for divorce the moment she became distant.

But you didn’t. You stuck by her side. Waited endless nights in a cold bed hoping she’d come home and be normal again. Notice you. Love you.

Yet the moment never came. You had waited for something that was never going to come.

Before you knew it, you lost count of the number of shots you ordered and downed in come take. You ignored the look concern the bartender gave you as you stared down at your fingers. You trailed shaped across your thighs—something Ambessa used to do—and, fuck—

You just couldn’t get her off your mind. No matter how hard you tried. No matter how much you desperately wanted to.

Your eyes drew heavy, and you practically tumbled out of your seat. You made your way over to Mel—who was practically sitting on Jayce’s lap—and let her know you were going home. Her once carefree gaze turned into one of concern.

“Did you need me to call you a ride? Give me one second and I’ll—”

You shook your head, “Mel, really, I’ll be fine. My place isn’t far from here. Enjoy your night, don’t worry about me.”

She sighed, “Alright…call me when you get home.”

You nodded at her words, gave the cashier a wad of cash and told him to ‘keep the change’, and stumbled out of the bar on two left feet.

…….

You stumbled towards the door of the apartment you were renting out while in Piltover. It was luxurious—one of the most expensive of its kind. Though, you hadn’t spent much time in it.

You shuffled through your purse as you searched for your keys in the dark. You sighed in victory as you finally found them, and clumsily put your key in the doorknob.

You opened the door and stumbled through your apartment with low eyes. You threw your purse somewhere are you walked up the glass stairs.

You heard slight shuffling upstairs, but your drunk, hazed mind decided to ignore it. Big mistake.

You walked through the hall and towards your room—only to freeze at the door way.

In less than five seconds—you swore you were now sober.

There she was. Your wife. Ambessa. She sat faced away from you on the far side of the bed. Her shoulders were stiff and her back was rigid. She looked down into her lap, and without even looking at her face, you could tell she was in deep thought.

You slowly started to walk backwards, but at the absolute worse time possible, your left heel decided to break, and you stumbled backwards. With a thud, you were brought to your knees on the floor.

Shit.

She spinner around and her gray coils moved with her. She scrambled to her feet as she went to help you up, but you snatched your arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

You scurried into the room and sat on the bed as you rubbed your ankle. That was definitely going to bruise in the morning.

“Y/N…”, you heard Ambessa whisper. You’d never heard her speak so softly.

You tried to ignore her presence, but that was impossible to do. She stood where she was—yet her gaze enveloped the whole room.

You shook your head as you held back tears, “I—I don’t ever ask for much….”

She stayed silent as you spoke.

“I don’t ever ask for much. All the presents and gifts you gave me…All the houses and land you bought me…All the jewels and diamonds you gave me….”

You shook your head harder as your tears fell harder, “I ain’t ask for none of that. All I asked is you give your kids the light of day. That you give me the love and attention I give you non-conditionally. That you stay loyal to me—as your wife—and show me that our marriage wasn’t out of infatuation—but genuine love for one another.”

You sobbed harder as you fought to breathe. “You think I don’t have wants and needs too? You think I don’t imagine myself being able to have a stable relationship with someone else? You think I don’t want to have sex and have somebody fell up on my body? To whisper sweet nothings in my ear? To show me that I matter to them? But I would never go behind your back and do that to you because I love you. I love you so much it hurts, Ambessa. I wish I could just let you go. Rip you out of my life and run far,far away. But I can’t. I just can’t…..”

You grew frustrated at her silence and wiped your snotty nose. “Why’d you do it, Ambessa? Why you have to do me like that?”

Ambessa’s own’s tears clouded her vision as she fought to find the right words. Her breath hitched, and she could tell you were becoming impatient. So she spoke her mind, and didn’t hold back.

“I—I thought….you made me weak. I thought if I allowed when I allowed myself to get close to you, I weakened the walls I fought so hard to built around myself. I’ve fought so hard to become the woman I am today, and I couldn’t let anyone take that away from me—not even my own family. So I distanced myself. From Mel. From Kino. And from you. I thought I was doing us both a favor. It allowed me to make the necessary decisions to keep us safe, and for you….I thought it would allow you the satisfaction of knowing you weren’t sleeping next to a monster.”

Surprise crossed your features as she continued to speak, “I have the blood of thousands—if not millions—on my hands. Women, children, and men alike. The thought of it haunts me every night, and yet, and I have brush it aside. I opt to spend most nights asleep in the very same chair I spend hours reviewing and signing papers in because I can’t bear to sleep beside you knowing what I have done. What I will do.”

Tears started to spill onto her scarred cheeks as she approached you. You didn’t move, and simply stared.

She knelt before you, and grabbed both of your small hands in hers, “What I have done is unforgivable. And I will accept any punishment you give me. I—I’ll build you a new estate for you to stay in. I’ll have it done before winter, but please—”

You grabbed her face in your hands, halting her words. The two of you met eyes, and a thousand words were spoken before either of you could say anything. Your mind betrayed your anger as you looked down at your wife. Your wife. Not the war general, not the most powerful figure in Piltover, not the formidable warlord, but your wife. A woman. With a mind, and a soul, and a deep, aching heart confined in the thickest of chains. Chains only you could break.

What she did hurt you deeply. But you could see the regret in her eyes. How it spread throughout her body. How it seemed to age her face even more.

You took your thumb and wiped a stray tear on her face, and she closed her eyes as she leaned into your touch.

You brought her head into your bosom, and for a moment, the two of you were silent. You laid your cheek on her head as you embraced her. Years of regret seemed to radiate off her. She spoke softly into your chest, “I don’t know if you can forgive me, but I want you to know….I’m sorry. For everything. And I will spend the rest of my life working for your forgiveness. I swear it.”

You took in your words as you shook your head. “While I certainly can’t forgive you now, I’ll give you a chance. Prove to me that our marriage is worth keeping. Show me that you can change, for us.”

Her head shot up, and a look of relief like none other crossed her features. A genuine smile—one you hadn’t seen in a long time, but adored—graced her features as she held you tighter.

“I’ll change—for us.”

……

The next few weeks brought you happiness that you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. The two of you finally traveled back to Noxus.

You hugged Mel tightly on the dock while the guards and servants prepared the ship. However, the tension between her and her mother could be cut with a knife as they shared brief goodbyes.

The morning after you came home drunk to Ambessa in your apartments, you called Mel and told her about the apology. She was taken aback, not believing a word you said. She had asked why she did it in the first place, yet you didn’t want to share too much on the private conversation. You gave a brief summary, leaving out some stuff, and she simply hummed. You could tell you were holding back something through the screen.

The ride back home wasn’t what you expected, and for a moment, you doubted Ambessa would stay true to her word. That quickly changed when the two of you arrived home.

It was like a switch flipped inside her. Instead of lingering behind after meetings, she spent the rest of her free time with you. She no longer spent countless hours hunched over a desk looking over papers, and finally got a trusted assistant to help her. She invested more time in the things you enjoyed and even found out things about herself. Her side of the bed was finally warm as she held you in her arms at night and shared hot baths with you in the morning.

Your wife—the woman you fell head over heels for—was finally back. You couldn’t be happier. However, despite how much your relationship has improved….she had yet to touch you.

The thought lingered in your mind as you fought to push it away. Instead, you stared at Ambessa’s back as she undressed and got ready for bed. That didn’t help.

You continued to look at her as she switched off the lamp and climbed into bed beside you. You heard her breathe a sigh of relief before she reached over to give you a ‘goodnight’ kiss.

However, as she leaned in, you took her by her shoulders and gave her a deep,passionate kiss.

You could tell she had an initial reaction of surprise, but quickly recovered and leaned into the kiss. Your tongues and mouths collided as her large hands roamed your body.

Being the impatient woman she was, she started to undo the bralette you wore to bed. Her hands immediately began to knead your breast, and you moaned into her touch.

She buried her head into the crook of your neck and planted hard kissed onto the soft flesh as she practically rubbed herself against you. The heat in the room seemed to increase by the minute.

She pulled herself of you after a moment as she started to plant kissed on your chest and stomach. The redness in your cheeks spread throughout your body. She threw off the lacey underwear she wore and held your legs on either side of her head.

She pressed kissed into the insides of your thigh, and your heat was practically pulsing just as hard as your heart.

You moaned as she pressed a tantalizing kiss to your pussy, and practically came right there when she sent a lick to your slit.

Without any warning, she began to feast on your heat. Every lick, suck, and bite elicited a new sound from your lips, and every one was music to Ambessa’s ears.

You weaved your hands through her hair as you grind yourself against her face. Your toes curled as you recognized a familiar coil inside your stomach. And with a shout, it finally snapped.

You should feel Ambessa’s smile as she continued to lap at you through your orgasm.

You breathed heavily, trying to come down from your high. You heard Ambessa shuffling around through the drawer—and you already knew what she was looking for.

A soft blue glow radiated from her hand as she adjusted the Hex-strap on her hips.

You vividly remember receiving the strap on an anniversary. She never told you where she got it—or how she got it—but she put it to good use the same night.

“I can’t remember the last time we used this….”, she said more to herself than to you.

You were brought back to reality as she took you by the forearm and flipped you over as if you weighed nothing—and you didn’t to her. Your face was stuffed into a pillow as she arched your back, and you could already feel yourself clenching around nothing.

She rested one hand on your thigh as she spread you open and roughly inserted two fingers into your wet entrance. She pumped them in and out at a steady pace and you moaned into the pillow beneath you. You took your hand and started rubbing small circles over your clit—but Ambessa’s hand quickly replaced yours as she nipped your ear.

Your second climax that night soon came to you in waves as you relaxed against Ambessa’s shoulder. She didn’t give you much time to collect yourself as she aimed the strap at your dripping cunt. You took in a shaky breath as you felt her slide in. She leaned over your shoulder as she whispered sweet nothings in your ear and held both of your hands in hers. When she was finally in, she slid halfway out, and drove herself into you again—rougher this time.

She continued this act a few more times before she had a steady rhythm of going out and roughly driving back into you. You could feel her hips collide with your thighs and ass and her rough hands gripping your soft love handles. If not for her tight grip on your hips—your head would’ve collided with the intricately carved wooden headboard.

She continued this until you were both moaning and panting—sweat pooling on your brow. Her grip on your hands loosened as her own groans filled the room. Her hips lost its steady rhythm and became to more at a sloppy and frantic pace. You knew she was close, and you reached back to run your fingers through her hair and tug at it. She groaned at the action—but made no move to stop you. With one deep thrust, she came undone. She practically fell on top of you as you both panted, exhausted. She carefully pulled out the strap and threw it on the end of the bed. The two of you rolled over on one side and sighed in content.

You could tell she was tired as her breathing became heavier. She held you from behind and tightened her large hands around your waist. You looked over your shoulder was low eyes, “Tired already?”

She chuckled at your dig. “I’m getting old, y’know.”

In your younger days, the two of you would go at from moon up to sun up—only stopping because she had a meeting scheduled that morning. Then, when she was finished with the meeting—you’d go again just for the hell of it.

If she were a man, the two of you would’ve had an army of babies together.

You smiled, reminiscing in the past. You came back to the moment as she buried her head in your shoulder. You leaned back into her touch as your own eyes fell to a close, and sleep enveloped you like a warm blanket.

While your marriage wasn’t perfect—it was definitely improving.

One kiss at a time.

…….

Taglist: @maaaaaaaaaaari

A/N; Pretty in Pink coming soon…See you in 2025 🎀

#ambessa x reader #ambessa medarda #arcane #league of legends

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meelusinee · 22 hours ago

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A YULE PROPOSAL | J.P X READER

word count \ 1.1k | fluff and stuff | slash / james potter x reader

in which james asks you out to the Yule Ball author's note at the end!

A YULE PROPOSAL | JAMES POTTER X READER

James Potter was many things.

He was a cheerful kind of person. Always upbeat, always uplifting no matter what. He was popular, almost anyone wanting to be with him or be him. A bit of a jock, though caring nonetheless. Loving to a fault, fault line nonexistent in his mind.

Though one thing that anyone could tell when looking at him was that he was in love with you.

You were always being spoiled by him. He’d get you expensive gifts, or take you on expensive trips. Small cafe dates, shopping for clothes and jewelry, or making any small gift was a specialty of his. He adored spoiling you, in any sense of the word.

And now it was Yule season coming up. He was nervous to ask you, even though he knew you'd say yes. You two were dating, after all.

So, he had to come up with a plan.

“Are you serious James?” Remus asked, eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion and desperation. “You don’t actually expect us to do this, do you?”

“Yup!” he smiled brightly at Remus. “You’re gonna do it with me, right Pads?”

“Course I am!” he chuckled brightly, standing up and patting James on the back proudly. “Anything to spend my mom’s money on useless stuff.”

“It’s not useless!” he gasped offendedly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius said, patting James on the head as best as he could. It wasn’t much, but it was an honest effort. “Whatever you say, Prongs.”

“Course it’s what I say,” he grumbled before sighing, looking at Remus and Peter. “Please?”

“10 Galleons.” Remus said sternly, holding his palm out. “I want payment or I’m not doing it. 20 and I’ll give you the best damn performance.”

“30 and I get to dress you up.” Sirius smirked, hands on his hips.

“50.” he said, voice as deadpanned as he could make it. James knew he would do it for free, that was what Remus was like. But this seemed too funny to interrupt, if he was being honest.

“Deal.” Sirius said with a wide smirk on his face, fiddling with his pockets before putting the 50 Galleons in his hand. “Pete? 50 Galleons?”

“Do I have a choice?” he asked.

“Nope.” Sirius said with a smile.

Peter sighed softly, shaking his head. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Sirius said excitedly, him and James jumping up and down.

“Okay, I have a game.” he said, pulling out a large piece of rolled paper to lay against the Common Room’s coffee table.

There was a large amount of rain hitting your window, your eyes focused on the paper that you were studying. It was nearing the end of the exams, not just Yule season.

Speaking of Yule season, you were quite excited. James hadn’t asked you to go to the ball. You knew that it was probably just stress though, so you weren’t too mad about it.

He had exams just like you, not to mention leading the Quidditch team and tolerating his friends’ pranks. Most times, you weren’t sure how he did it.

All in all, he had a lot of responsibilities.

Which is why you didn’t mind if he didn’t ask you to go to the ball. You decided to take a break from studying, looking outside of the window. Your eyes squinted to look at the different trees and forms of nature outside, the breeze running through your room.

“M’lady!”

Your eyes squinted a bit harder as you heard someone calling, looking down at the ground. There stood Peter, one of James' friends.

You stuck your head out of the window confusedly, looking down at him. “Pete?”

“M’lady!” he smiled brightly, though a bit awkwardly.

You chuckled at that, though you weren’t sure why he was standing in the cold like that. “Why are you just standing outside?”

“I am awaiting the Majesty.” he said, voice echoing through the night.

“The what?” you smiled awkwardly.

Then came the sound of neighing, though you could tell it wasn’t from an actual horse. You frowned, making your way downstairs and towards the door he was standing in front of.

“What on Earth,” you muttered confusedly.

There stood James with Remus and Sirius behind him, all three of them riding the fake pony sticks you’d buy as a child at a muggle store.

“We are here on behalf of Your Majesty, James Potter.” Sirius called out, dismounting himself from the fake horse. “He has requested your presence at the annual Yule Ball hosted in the Great Hall.”

“That rhymed,” Peter said with a small smile, chuckling softly. Sirius laughed loudly at that, with Remus stealing the paper from his hand.

“M’lady,” he said. “Sir James Potter, son of Fleamont Potter and first of his name, formally invites you, Y/N L/N, to the Yule Ball. Filled with fond fellowship and fellow acquaintances at the end of this month.”

James was standing behind Remus with a hopeful grin, the smile that you had come to love more than anything after years together.

“What is your response, Madame?” Remus said. His voice was incredibly deadpan, unlike Sirius and Peter’s laughter in the background. No doubt that he had practiced this.

“Yes,” you chuckled softly, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to figure out what was going on. In all honesty, you felt like you were in a fever dream.

“Yes!”’James cheered excitedly, jumping up and down and running around the field. Sirius followed after him in his dog form, barking excitedly as James cheered excitedly.

You chuckled quietly as you watched him run around, smiling as Peter came closer and crowned you with a paper crown.

“Thank you, Knight Pete.” you chuckled.

James eventually calmed down after a couple of minutes, walking up to you out of breath. “Hi love,”

“Hi James,” you laughed as you saw him try to catch his breath, moving the hair out of his face as best as you could. “Did you have fun?”

“I did!” he smiled gleefully, looking at you. “Did you?”

“Yes, I did.” you smiled softly.

He nodded, pulling you into a hug. “I love you,” he whispered in your ear, squeezing your body in his arms. “I really wanted you to have a good proposal. It did take me some time to think of it though.”

You smiled softly, hugging him back before you heard Sirius groaning.

“Lovebirds!” he groaned, making a ‘bleh’ sound.

“Oh hush!” James called out, throwing a ball of paper at him before turning over to you. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Later.” you promised, kissing his lips.

He smiled brightly at that, mounting his fake sticky horse and running off. Remus said a rather fancy farewell to you, climbing on the back of Sirius’ horse and running off. Peter was last, following them all to wherever they came from.

God, you loved James.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thanks for everything yawl are doing, it's really so amazing just how supportive all of you guys are! it's really shocking sometimes, to be honest wit you. thank you all so much, and hopefully you enjoyed!

AS ALWAYS - please like, comment, and reblog! have a happy new year lovelies!

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toxinoire · 3 days ago

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Just...something that popped into my brain as I remember seeing quite a bunch of people saying "Would You Fall In Love With Me Again (Epic the Musical) but it's Gelphie" so....

Booksical verse.

Elphie returns to Oz specifically to see Glinda (they're like 40-50 smth for this little oneshot, so whether or not Liir is nearby is for y'all to decide)

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is it you?" Glinda is rooted on her spot, the only thing Elphaba sees moving are her hands, which are shaking. "Dear Oz, have my prayers actually been answered, or am I dreaming?" Glinda breathes out.

Elphaba takes one step forward. "Glinda...you look different."

"Do I?" She chuckles.

Elphaba nods. "Your eyes look tired. Your frame is lighter...and your smile's torn."

"Yours too, you know?" Glinda responds, finally moving from her spot to stand closer. "Is...is it really you?"

"I don't know how to answer that." Elphaba admits, her smile falling a little. "So much has happened...the Elphaba you met at Shiz and the one you saw before we parted...she's not me anymore. I am not the one you had adored."

Glinda lets out a huff. "You say that as if change isn't inevitable. I'm no longer those versions of me either." A shaky exhale follows. "I'm more similar to The Wizard than ever."

"I told you to not ruin your reputation, Glinda. I made you promise it." Said Elphaba. "And by doing you restored the Animal Rights at Oz. The Wizard had simply cared for his power, but you're actually figuring our how to utilize your power to make Oz better. You managed to make good, even if it is a slow process."

"I did that to honor you." Said Glinda. "This was your cause. I might have restored their rights, but it was you who made me understand."

"Yes...but it cost too much." Elphaba sighs. "I mean, the Animal Resistance...I've done too much." She holds up a hand, staring at her palm, she Elphaba once again sees all the chaos she has caused. What she's destroyed. People she left behind.

"I've figured." Said Glinda.

Elphaba sighs. "Would you accept me if I told you everything? Would you let me be yours again?"

That kiss resurfaces in Elphaba's mind. Oh how it felt so right, and even if the situation was wrong, it still feels right. She'd love to do it again, but hope is something she's never held onto.

The one time she did led to disaster.

"Elphaba..." Glinda sighs. "Oh getting through your thick skull is just as hard as it had always been. You know, I still manipulate to get my way, I deceived tons of people. I still let myself become this. This necessary evil to actually try to do something."

"Necessary evil?" Said Elphaba. "You mean wanting good but knowing that opposing sides still will make it hard that you have to result to more calculated measures that involve balancing morality and strategy to keep peace and stability? Glinda, that's just politics."

"Yet I still held out for you." Glinda responds.

"Me? I am the last person you should do that for, Glinda." Elphaba feels a lump grow in her throat as she remembers all she's done, believing that it was a means to an end. Nearly killing an entire crowd of children with a bomb...how she had bees sting a man to death that his corpse is unrecognizable...the whole affair with Fiyero... "It is foolish of me to even ask, naive of me. But please just answer me, if you knew it all, would you let me be yours again?"

Elphaba takes a deep breath.

"I am not the Elphaba you think you're honoring, Glinda." A shaky exhale escapes her. Suddenly, her vision blurs, all she can see and hear are people's screams, fire, bombs, Fiyero, Liir, the monastery, she sees red on her hands that don't go with the green.

"Then tell me, what kinds of things did you do?"

"There are stains of blood on my hands, Glinda. A few souls are still too much." Elphaba swallows as she forces herself to continue. "I've treated people like pawns." Liir's face briefly appears in her mind. "I hurt more lives than I can count on my hands." She sees Fiyero, she sees her classmates at Shiz, she sees those children she nearly killed.

She sees Glinda.

"So please, just answer the question I asked you, so I know whether to leave or stay. Would you let me be yours again, Glinda? I can't undo all of those things. I am not the Elphaba you knew." Elphaba's voice breaks at the last word.

Glinda remains silent.

The silence scares Elphaba more than she can admit.

Glinda walks over to the Grimmerie, where Elphaba's old hat is placed.

Elphaba has not seen that in years.

The hat had been special to her, even if it was originally given as a prank. There was a reason she brought it with her the day they went to Emerald City when they were young. There was a reason she still kept it even when she was doing all those horrendous acts.

Her cloak is hanging off her shoulders, the same one Glinda had given her that day she flew on her broomstick. She treasures this dearly, she never lets it away from her hands.

And now, she sees the hat again.

"I see." Glinda says as she picks up the hat. She turns back to Elphaba. "Nice cloak."

Elphaba says nothing, wraps the cloak more snugly around her.

Glinda tosses the hat onto the ground by Elphaba's feet.

Confusion fills Elphaba, she looks at Glinda, who has an oddly calm expression. "Huh?"

"If you are telling the truth," Glinda steps back. "Do me a favor." She gestures to the hat on the floor. "You can still do magic, I know that. Let my mind rest. Burn the hat. And once you're done, do the same to the cloak."

Elphaba staggers back as if she has been slapped, one hand clutches the cloak on her shoulders. "How could you say this..?"

Glinda, eerily, stays silent.

"Both of these are from you. There was a reason I held onto them so dearly, Glinda. Even if the hat had been a joke in the beginning, even if the cloak had been on our first goodbye, I held onto them." Elphaba scoffed. "These may seem like a brand or whatever to everyone else, but to us both of these basically the symbol of our bond!"

Panic rose to Elphaba's chest when Glinda remains still. "The hat was there when we first danced at the Ozdust, how we dreamt of a future together in Emerald City, even if didn't happen the way we hoped! The cloak, Oz, Glinda, this may seem small, but it was so much more than just a parting gift! Do you realize what you have asked me?!" She steps forward, her voice rising even more. "I cannot burn these! These are basically symbols of us!"

Elphaba exhaled sharply as she finished speaking.

Then, Glinda steps forward and matches her tone. "Only Elphaba knew that, then I guess that makes her you!"

Elphaba stills. "Glinda..."

"Elphaba, when I thought you died, I didn't mourn who I thought you were. I mourned you. Do you understand that?" Glinda walks closer until the only thing standing between them is the hat. " You. Answer me this, now that I became what you used to fight, do you no longer want me in your life?"

"You know I didn't leave you because I no longer want you." Said Elphaba, her voice lowering drastically that it could almost be a whisper.

"I know. You stupid witch, I know." Said Glinda. "How about now?"

"I didn't allow myself to return to Oz to reject you. I don't care about that, I just want to be with you again!"

"Exactly my point!" Glinda's voice rises again. "You think I don't want the same!? It's been years! We've both changed, Elphaba! We were bound to change!" She grabs Elphaba's collar. "There is no world I can imagine where I will not want you, you idiot. No matter the tragedies, I will accept you, I will still adore you. I don't care how, where, or when! No matter how long it's been! Asking me if to let you be mine again implies that you stopped being mine and I stopped being yours!"

Elphaba sees tears form in Glinda's eyes. Elphaba has not cried in years, it is hard for her to cry in general. But if she can, she probably would be crying too.

"Don't you dare tell me you're not the same person." Glinda's grip on her collar loosens a little, but she still holds on tight. "You are still the girl I shared a room with, danced with. You are always my Elphie."

The nickname makes Elphaba let out a shaky gasp. How long has it been?

Glinda's tears fall. "And I'm still yours, right?"

That isn't even in question. "Of course."

"See, now we've both asked ridiculously stupid questions."

"You have done so twice."

"Oh hush." Glinda chuckles breathlessly, making Elphaba chuckle too.

"I have been haunted by you." Elphaba says softly. "In dreams."

"You do the same to me." Glinda whispers. "I don't know why I've been waiting, but I have."

"Glinda..."

For the first time in years, Elphaba feels the familiar, yet strangely new sensation of warmth in her eyes. Tears.

"I've been waiting for you." Glinda lets go of Elphaba's collar to wipe her own tears. Her teeth halfway gritted, she says, "Even if everything else told me not to. I still..."

"Glinda..." She says her name again.

As Elphaba's tears fall as well, she steps aside in order to not step on or kick the hat, and wraps her arms around Glinda. Oz, it's so familiar yet so new. She buries her face in her shoulder, as Glinda's arms encircle her as well.

Both of them are holding on so tightly, as if afraid the other will go. And honestly, that is true, as both were afraid of how much they changed. Except it seems, as Elphaba realized, Glinda had been more at peace with the change she's been through, unlike her.

She can't erase what she's done, and she will forever be haunted by it.

But...

She's still Elphaba.

And she's still Glinda's, no matter what happened, and no matter what happens.

Though her hands are stained with red, though there is destruction that follows her feet, these are the same hands that held Glinda's, the same feet that danced with her in the Ozdust.

For the first time in years, Elphaba feels peace.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope whoever read this liked it :)

Maybe I'll post this in ao3 if people here like it.

#wicked book #wicked movie #wicked musical #elphaba thropp #galinda upland #elphaba the wicked witch #glinda the good witch #elphaba x glinda #glinda x elphaba #gelphie

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lunarfied · 2 days ago

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OKAY. this has been on my mind for a while but i saw a few people saying smth like “oh i think dae ho is lying about being in the marines” and bro whatttttt the hell what show are Y’ALL watching to think that?

like yeah when he dropped the walkie talkie i was like “?? oh ur a traitor????” but then we immediately see why he did that. bc he has fucking ptsd bro!!

daeho literally drops so many clues that he has severe trauma from

1) his time on the field and

2) his father

that’s why he acted the way he did in the last ep ?? i feel like,, media literacy IS so dead cuz like whatttttt ????? like yes of course you can have your theories but please ?? watch the show LMFAO ??

he talks about how he was in the marines, and then when jungbae brings up his father, his response is to immediately shut down and change the subject (a trauma response)

he hears rapid gun shots, holds a gun (again, i assume), sees his allies drop dead one by one around him and then goes back to get the mags which all caused him to have a ptsd episode. like. please guys do research before dropping theories ooohhhhwah,, this is so common for veterans ??

i don’t think he would lie about any of that and also it’s mandatory for korean men to do military service anyway ? so no matter what he was in there 😭 although being in the actual marines is different of course

anyways fast forward to the end when hyunju comes back and daeho is in the corner, knees against his chest, hands covering his ears, visibly he is not mentally there — he was having a ptsd episode. he flinched when hyunju reaches for the mags obviously implying he has faced some kind of abuse and assumed she was going to hit him for failing to bring back the mags? you think he would fake that kind of response 😭😭 y’all would hate the way people with ptsd act irl if y’all assume he’s faking his reaction..

i don’t know why this theory is circulating LMFAO he is NAWT a liar he is just traumatized!!

#luna’s logbook ┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈#squid games #squid games season 2 #kang dae ho #player 388 #you can have your theories and all but like this is just canon info if you pay attention to the subtext ??#not everything HAS to be written out clearly for you to understand what is going on #anyways dae ho get behind ME 🤺🤺🤺🤺

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cheshireliam · 1 day ago

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"Wrapped in Wicked Romance" Story Event: Epilogue

Ring Schwartz

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Ring: I’m asking you out on a date!

His date proposal that sounded more like a request to duel left me standing there wide-eyed in shock.

Nica: … Ring. You’re not challenging her to a fight. Can you try again, but be more relaxed this time?

Nica shrugged in exasperation, thinking the same thing I was.

Nica: Also, you didn't explain yourself well.

Ring: Oh, uhh… right. My bad.

Ring: We couldn’t have a proper date with all that happened the other day, so…

Ring: I want to take you out on a date again. Can… can I?

His voice was shaking as he nervously asked for my response.

I couldn't bear to reject him, seeing that he was trying his best.

Besides… I realised after our last date that I wanted to get to know him better, so there was no reason for me to refuse.

Kate: I’d love to.

Ring: R-really!? I’m not dreaming… right? YES…!

Nica: This is reality. Good grief… look at you getting so excited as if you two are really in a relationship.

Darius: Isn’t that great, Ring?

…

The next day, Ring and I went for our date right away.

While waiting outside Crown’s castle, I saw Ring sprinting towards me from a distance at full speed.

Ring: … S-sorry! I’m late…!

Kate: No, you’re right on time. I’m the one who came early.

Kate: You arrived first and waited for me the last time, so… I thought I’d be the one to wait this time.

Ring: I-is that so? Then, next time I’ll come early t—

Ring: Ah… no, nevermind.

Ring’s words cut off mid-sentence, realising there might not be a next date.

That kind of made me feel lonely.)

(... I never realised how badly I wanted to spend more time with him.)

Whether it was his endearing shyness due to being unaccustomed to interacting with women that made me want to tease him a little, or his kindness for thinking about others, or even the evil side of him that could mercilessly kill under Darius’ orders… I wanted to know even more about him.

I felt that one date wouldn't be enough, and so…

Kate: Next date, it’ll be your turn to come early.

I picked up where Ring cut himself off, so that we would entirely erase the possibility of future dates happening.

Ring: Y-yeah… that's right!

Ring: Even though I can’t fall asleep the night before our dates… I’ll do my best to wake up early.

Ring nodded so vigorously that I was worried his head might fall.

I felt relieved and at the same time, my chest was filled with a tingling warm feeling .

Ring: But first of all, let’s make sure today’s date goes smoothly.

Ring: Y-your outfit today… It reminds me of the colour of Bluebells. It looks beautiful.

Ring: A-and your hairstyle… it’s amazing. It’s braided like chains…

Ring: … I think it suits you and… you look lovely.

Kate: I discussed with the maids at Crown’s castle before deciding on my clothes and hairstyle! Thank you for the compliments.

Ring: I see… alright, I’ve done the compliments part…

Ring: Next is… uhh… you can hold my arm.

Ring said and thrust his right arm out at me.

(The last time, he made an excuse saying he was “warming up”.)

The slight improvement made me smile tenderly, and I gently placed my hand on his arm.

Kate: Thank you. Well then, let’s get going!

…

And so, we went to The Scala, which we couldn't do the last time, and watched a play.

Afterwards, we explored the city while shopping, and I introduced him to a restaurant that was both affordable and served delicious food.

We spent our time to the fullest, enjoying everything London had to offer.

…

Ring: … Everything felt so new to me.

Ring: Thank you for the enjoyable date, Robin.

Kate: I’m glad you had fun! By the way, what was the most impressive experience for you?

Ring: … Definitely Liam’s acting.

Ring: He’s usually all sparkly and pink, but when he went on stage today, he was more of a glaring black colour.

It was a unique description, but it was clear as day how moved he was by Liam’s performance.

Kate: Fufu, I’ll make sure to tell Liam that you enjoyed his performance!

Kate: Also… can I ask you another question?

Ring: What is it?

Kate: … Was today’s date also Darius’ order?

Ring: …

Ring: … Looks like you’ve seen right through me.

Seemingly having accepted the situation, Ring began explaining.

Apparently, Darius suggested the idea of going on a date today because Ring and I weren’t able to interact properly the last time.

Kate: I see…

Ring: … Robin?

Kate: I had a hunch this was all Darius’ idea, but…

Kate: I also kind of hoped that you asked me out because you wanted to… so I feel a little lonely.

Ring: ah…

(I guess I was just selfish for wanting to know the truth… now I feel somewhat embarrassed.)

Kate: Sorry for making it awkward! Let’s head back.

Ring: W-wait! It’s true that it was Dari’s idea this time…

Ring: But even if he didn't make the suggestion, I think I would’ve still invited you on a date myself.

Ring: You’re a dangerous person… with a curse that makes my heart race every time.

Ring: I think… I need to get to know more about you and come up with a strategy to counter it.

Ring: So… I want to spend more time with you.

(A curse that makes his heart race…?)

Of course, I wasn't a Cursed One. The reason why Ring’s heart was racing was likely because he isn’t used to being around women.

(But… regardless of the reason, I’m glad to know he wants to get to know me better.)

Kate: I want to have more time to get to know you too. So… I’ll look forward to that from now on.

Kate: By all means, find out a lot of things about me and figure out your strategy.

Ring: Y-yeah… bring it on!

We’ve only just met not too long ago, so there were still many things about each other that were unknown to us.

Even so, one thing was certain— we both wanted to know more about each other.

I don't know what kind of relationship we’ll build in the future as I grow more familiar with Ring…

But, right now, I’m just happy that we share the same feelings.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikevil translations #otome #ikevil story event #ring schwartz

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rootedinrevisions · 2 days ago

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A Countdown to Us

SUMMARY: As the clock ticks toward midnight on New Year's Eve, the air is charged with more than just the promise of a new year. With every stolen glance and every lingering touch between you and Bradley, you inch closer to a moment that could change everything in your friendship. In the midst of the fireworks and celebration, will you take a leap and let the sparks between you ignite?

A/N: I've had this WIP in my drafts for a while (kind of). It started out as friends to lovers, and then I decided to try to put the New Year's Eve twist on it, and I think it turned out well. This will be the last of my holiday fics and after this I'm going to go back to working on requests (still not accepting new requests at this time) and my other WIPs.

WARNINGS: Lots of Teasing, Biting, Hair Pulling, Slight Praising Kink, Some Body Insecurity from Reader, Oral (Male Receiving), Fingering, Vaginal Sex (PinV),

WORD COUNT: 10.8k (I'm sorry, I swear I don't mean to keep writing these really long fics.)

TAGS: In comments.

Bradley knocked on your front door, the sound echoing through your small apartment. He glanced at his watch, shaking his head as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t the first time this had happened.

“Hold on!” your voice called from inside.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he waited. When the door finally opened, he was greeted by the sight of you, barefoot, with one earring in and the other clutched in your hand.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Bradley said, his eyebrows lifting as his gaze swept over you. “We’re already late, and you’re still not ready?”

You rolled your eyes and turned, leaving the door open as an invitation for him to come in. “Calm down, Bradshaw. We’ll make it in time for the midnight toast,” you shot back, your tone as breezy as ever.

He followed you inside, shutting the door behind him. “You said you’d be ready by nine. It’s nine-thirty.”

“And yet you’re still here, waiting for me like the loyal best friend you are,” you teased, flashing him a quick grin over your shoulder as you made your way back to your bedroom.

Bradley groaned dramatically, running a hand through his hair as he trailed after you. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for you to catch.

“What was that?” you called from your room.

“Nothing.”

You laughed, stepping out into the hallway with a playful look in your eye. “That’s what I thought.”

Bradley leaned against the wall, watching as you carefully secured the second earring in place. His eyes softened for just a moment, taking in the sight of you. Even half-ready, with your hair still pinned up and no shoes in sight, you had a way of commanding his attention.

“What?” you asked, noticing the way he was looking at you.

“Nothing,” he said again, quickly masking the moment with a smirk. “I’m just trying to figure out how it takes someone this long to get dressed.”

“Perfection takes time, Bradshaw.”

“Perfection?” He scoffed. “You still have to put on your shoes. And your coat. And—”

“Zip me up,” you interrupted, holding the front of your dress to your chest as you turned your back to him.

Bradley froze for a split second, but you didn’t notice. Or maybe you did, and you were pretending not to. Either way, he stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your shoulder blade as he grabbed the zipper.

The dress hugged your curves perfectly, and as he zipped it up, the soft lace of your underwear caught his eye. It was only a glimpse, but it was enough to send his mind spiraling into places he shouldn’t let it go—not with you.

“You okay back there?” you teased, glancing over your shoulder.

Bradley cleared his throat, tugging the zipper the rest of the way up with a little more force than necessary. “Yeah, just wondering how you manage to make me late every single time we go out.”

“Oh, please,” you said, spinning around to face him. “You love it.”

“Love it? No,” he said, shaking his head as he stepped back. “Tolerate it? Maybe.”

You grinned, patting his chest lightly as you brushed past him. Bradley followed you to the living room, where you grabbed your heels and slipped them on. He tried not to stare as you bent over to adjust the strap, but he failed miserably.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice a little rougher than he intended.

You grabbed your coat and shot him a dazzling smile. “Ready.”

As the two of you headed out the door, Bradley couldn’t help but think about the night ahead—and how he was going to survive it without completely losing his mind.

* * * * *

The Hard Deck was already buzzing when you and Bradley walked through the door. Fairy lights strung around the rafters twinkled like stars, and the place was packed with people laughing, drinking, and gearing up for the New Year. Music pulsed through the speakers, and you could feel the energy in the air—a mix of excitement and anticipation.

“Looks like Penny went all out,” you said, glancing around.

“She always does,” Bradley replied, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on a familiar group in the corner.

The Dagger Squad was easy to spot, their loud laughter cutting through the din of the bar. Hangman was holding court, as usual, while Phoenix rolled her eyes at something he’d just said. Bob looked like he was doing his best to stay out of whatever argument was brewing, nursing his cup of peanuts with a small smile.

As you made your way over, the group’s attention shifted to the two of you.

“Bradshaw finally made it!” Hangman drawled, leaning back in his chair with a cocky grin. “Thought you were gonna miss the countdown.”

“We would’ve been here earlier if someone didn’t take forever to get ready,” Bradley replied, shooting you a pointed look.

You gasped, feigning offense as you placed a hand over your chest. “Excuse me, I looked amazing when I walked out that door. You’re welcome.”

Hangman chuckled. “I’ll give her that, Bradshaw. She does look amazing.”

Bradley’s jaw tightened slightly, but he just shrugged. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get a drink.”

The two of you headed toward the bar, weaving through the crowd. Once there, you caught the bartender’s attention and ordered your usual. Turning to Bradley, you raised an eyebrow. “What about you? What’s your poison tonight?”

Bradley smirked, leaning one elbow on the bar as he looked down at you. “Nice try, but you’re not buying my drinks.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, brushing your hand against his arm playfully. “Consider it payback for making you wait earlier.”

Before he could respond, someone jostled their way up to the bar, bumping into you and sending you stumbling slightly into Bradley’s chest. Your hands instinctively went to his shoulders for balance, and your body pressed against his, the neckline of your dress dipping just enough to give him an up-close view of your cleavage.

“Sorry!” the stranger said, barely glancing your way as they waved down the bartender.

“No worries,” you replied, pulling back slightly—but not before noticing the way Bradley’s jaw had gone tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His eyes lingered on you for a beat too long, flicking down to the neckline of your dress before quickly snapping back up to meet your gaze.

“Everything okay, Bradshaw?” you asked, a teasing lilt in your voice.

“Fine,” he said shortly, though his voice was a little rougher than usual. He cleared his throat and glanced away, focusing on the bartender as he ordered his drink.

You couldn’t hide the satisfied smile that tugged at your lips. You knew you were getting to him, and the idea sent a thrill through you. Tonight was going to be fun.

You made your way back to the group with Bradley, your drink in hand and a playful smirk already forming on your lips. The moment Hangman saw you, his grin widened.

“Well, if it isn’t Bradshaw’s better half,” he drawled, leaning casually against the pool table. “Looking like you’re ready to steal the show tonight, sweetheart.”

You laughed, giving him a playful nudge on the arm. “Oh, stop it, Seresin. You’ll make me blush.”

Bradley, standing just behind you, rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the exchange. You didn’t miss it, of course, and it only fueled your determination.

“I’m just calling it like I see it,” Hangman continued, his signature cocky grin firmly in place. “Bradshaw, you’re gonna have to keep an eye on her tonight. Someone might just snatch her away.”

Bradley crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps straining slightly against the fabric of his shirt. “I think she can handle herself,” he said, his tone neutral but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you teased, turning your head to glance at Bradley over your shoulder. “You might need to keep a closer eye on me, Roo.”

Bradley’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, his expression softened into something unreadable—a mixture of surprise and something deeper. He gave a small shake of his head, like he couldn’t believe you had the audacity to use that nickname here, in front of everyone.

“Roo?” Hangman’s voice cut in, dripping with mockery as he leaned casually against his pool cue. His grin was wide and wicked. “Oh, I like that. What do you think, Roo?”

Bradley shot him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. “Shut it, Bagman.”

Hangman chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension radiating off Bradley. “Tell you what,” he said, his attention turning back to you as he gestured toward the pool table. “Why don’t you break? Show us if you’ve got the skills to back up all that sass.”

You grinned, realizing this was your chance. “Gladly.”

As you stepped forward, you made sure to brush past Bradley, your chest grazing against his arm. You felt the solid heat of him through the thin fabric of your dress, and you bit back a triumphant smile when you noticed his sharp intake of breath.

“Excuse me,” you said softly, looking up at him with a feigned innocence that didn’t fool him for a second.

Bradley didn’t respond, but his jaw tightened, and his gaze followed you as you moved to the pool table.

You bent over to line up the break, feeling the hem of your dress creeping up your thighs as you adjusted your stance. You could practically feel Bradley’s eyes on you, and when you glanced back at him, he was staring, his expression a mixture of frustration and something darker.

“Sorry,” you said sweetly, tugging the hem of your dress down before turning your attention back to the game. You broke the rack with a satisfying crack, the balls scattering across the table. Standing up, you smoothed your dress and turned to find Bradley still watching you, his drink forgotten in his hand.

His expression was hard to read—annoyance, maybe, but there was something else there too. Something that made your stomach flip and your confidence soar.

Hangman gave a low whistle. “Not bad. Maybe we should let you and Bradshaw go head-to-head. What do you say, Bradshaw? Think you can handle her?”

Bradley’s eyes flicked to Hangman, then back to you. “Oh, I can handle her,” he said, his voice low and deliberate.

Your heart skipped a beat at the way he said it, and as you leaned casually against the pool table, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Maybe your little plan was working after all.

Your next shot had you leaning over the table across from Bradley, the angle perfectly positioned to give him an unobstructed view of your cleavage. The neckline of your dress dipped dangerously low, and as you shifted slightly to line up the cue, he caught the unmistakable realization—you weren’t wearing a bra. His breath hitched, and the image of you in nothing but that lace he’d glimpsed earlier burned itself into his mind.

Bradley’s grip on his pool cue tightened as his body betrayed him. The denim of his jeans suddenly felt unforgiving, and he shifted his stance in an effort to find some relief.

Focus, Bradshaw. This is her. You can’t go there. You won’t go there.

But then there was Hangman. Of course, there was Hangman. Jake’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing—not the slight adjustment Bradley made, not the tension in his jaw, and definitely not the way your lips curved into a subtle smile as you straightened up after your shot.

“Gotta hand it to her,” Jake muttered under his breath as he leaned closer to Bradley, his voice low enough that only he could hear. “She’s got you on a leash tonight, Roo.” Bradley’s glare shot to Jake like a warning missile, but Jake, ever the instigator, just grinned wider. “What’s the matter, Bradshaw? Gonna let her get away with that?”

“Shut it, Bagman,” Bradley bit out, his voice tight, but the heat rising in his chest had little to do with Jake’s teasing and everything to do with the mental image of you.

Jake leaned closer, his tone dropping just enough to needle deeper. “You should make a move before someone else does.” He nodded toward the bar where a few other Navy men had started to take notice of you. One, in particular, seemed a little too interested, his gaze lingering on you as you lined up your next shot.

The thought had Bradley’s blood boiling. The Daggers all knew you were off-limits, even if there was no official claim—Bradley’s quiet, unwavering presence around you made that abundantly clear.

But the other men in the bar didn’t have that same understanding. They didn’t know that you were his, even if neither of you had ever said it out loud.

He glanced back at you, your focus on the table as you leaned over again, the hem of your dress riding up just slightly, showing a tempting glimpse of your thighs. You were playing with fire tonight, and Bradley was caught somewhere between wanting to stop you and wanting to let himself get burned.

Jake chuckled again, leaning closer as you shifted slightly, your hips swaying just enough to draw attention. He turned his head toward Bradley, his smirk sharp as a blade. “She’s practically begging for it,” Jake said, his tone low and knowing.

Bradley’s jaw ticked, his grip on the pool cue tightening to the point of splintering.

“Bagman,” he warned, his voice like gravel, but Jake just grinned and backed away, clearly enjoying the show.

After your next turn, you made your way over to Bradley, holding up your now-empty glass with a teasing grin.

“Looks like I’m out,” you said, tipping the glass slightly before glancing at the drink in his hand. “Mind if I have some of yours?”

Bradley barely had time to respond before you leaned in, wrapping your lips around his straw, your eyes locked on his as you took a slow sip. The intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on him—or anyone else. His fingers tightened around the glass, his knuckles whitening, as he watched you pull back with a soft hum of approval.

“Not bad, Roo,” you murmured, your voice low, your tone deliberate. Filled with just enough liquid courage, you leaned in closer, the faint scent of your perfume intoxicating him. “You seem a little tense tonight. Maybe you should let loose. It is New Year’s Eve, after all.”

Bradley’s jaw clenched as he swallowed hard, your words sending a ripple of heat through him. Before he could respond, Jake, who had been lingering nearby, couldn’t resist jumping into the moment.

“Gotta say, Bradshaw,” Jake drawled, his signature smirk firmly in place. “She’s got a point. You do look a little… wound up tonight.”

Bradley turned his head sharply toward Jake, his gaze already simmering with annoyance. But Jake wasn’t done.

He leaned casually against the edge of the table, his cocky grin widening. “Tell you what, Roo. If you’re ready to call it a night, I’ll make sure she gets her midnight kiss. And I’ll even get her home safe and sound for you.”

The comment was like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline. Bradley’s glare could have leveled a lesser man, but Jake didn’t even flinch. If anything, he seemed to thrive on the reaction, his grin practically splitting his face.

“Bagman,” Bradley said, his voice dangerously low, the single word carrying a warning that even Jake couldn’t completely ignore.

But Jake, being Jake, wasn’t about to back down. “What?” he said, feigning innocence as he straightened up. “Just being a gentleman. Someone’s gotta make sure she gets what she wants tonight, and if you’re not gonna step up…”

“Jake.” This time, the word was more growl than name, and Jake raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Relax, Bradshaw,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.” His tone softened slightly, just enough that only Bradley could hear. “You’ve been watching her all night like she’s the last drink on Earth. Either you go for that first sip, or someone else will.”

Bradley’s grip on his glass tightened as Jake’s words settled over him. He glanced back at you, now chatting with Phoenix across the table, your laughter cutting through the noise of the bar. The sight of you—carefree, radiant, and completely unaware of the effect you had on him—was almost too much to bear.

Jake clapped him on the shoulder as if he’d just passed on sage advice, the smug look still firmly in place. “Tick tock, Bradshaw,” he said before sauntering off, leaving Bradley alone with his thoughts—and the growing need to finally make his move.

As the night wore on and the clock inched closer to midnight, you found your excitement for the new year tempered by a growing sense of disappointment. You had spent the evening trying to send Bradley every signal short of spelling it out for him, but he still hadn’t made a move.

You thought you’d been obvious enough. The lingering glances, the teasing touches, the way you’d leaned into him at every opportunity—surely, he’d noticed. Unless... he had noticed and simply wasn’t interested.

The thought twisted uncomfortably in your chest, leaving a bitter taste behind. You let your gaze wander to where Bradley stood across the room, laughing at something Coyote had said. His smile lit up his face, and for a moment, you forgot all about your doubts.

But then reality came crashing back in. If he wanted you, wouldn’t he have done something by now? Anything? You let out a quiet sigh, suddenly feeling foolish for playing this little game in the first place. Maybe you’d read too much into the way his eyes lingered on you earlier, or maybe you were just another friend to him.

“Excuse me,” you said softly to Phoenix, forcing a polite smile as you stepped away from the conversation.

Phoenix’s brow furrowed as she watched you leave, and then her sharp gaze turned on Bradley. She didn’t bother to hide the glare she shot his way, the kind that could stop a grown man in his tracks.

Bradley caught her expression from across the room and froze, confused. He looked around as if trying to figure out what he’d done to deserve the silent scolding. Then, realizing she was glaring at him, he held up his hands in surrender, his brow furrowed in bewilderment. “What?” he mouthed, his voice barely audible over the noise.

Phoenix just rolled her eyes and shook her head, muttering something under her breath that Bradley couldn’t hear. But the message was clear enough: You’re an idiot, Bradshaw.

Meanwhile, you slipped through the crowd toward the bathroom, weaving between groups of sailors and couples who were already paired off for the midnight kiss. You kept your head down, trying to ignore the sting of disappointment that had settled in your chest. It wasn’t like you had any right to expect something from Bradley—he’d never promised you anything, after all.

But still... you couldn’t help but hope.

“Damn it, Bradshaw, what the hell are you waiting for?” Jake's voice came from beside him, sharp with that familiar edge of cockiness that always seemed to get under Bradley’s skin.

He barely had time to register the words before another voice broke through the noise. A pilot—someone Bradley didn’t recognize, but who had clearly been eyeing you for most of the night—made his way over to the Dagger Squad. He was tall, his uniform crisp and pressed, his eyes glinting with that familiar military arrogance.

He looked at Bradley first, then turned to Jake, as if seeking approval. It rubbed Bradley wrong that this guy was asking Jake for permission about you. As if Jake knew anything about you.

“Hey, your little friend” the guy began, voice low but loud enough for Bradley and Jake to hear, “is she single, or is she here with someone tonight?”

Bradley’s jaw tightened. He knew exactly the type of guy this was—another one of those cocky assholes who thought every woman in a bar was fair game. And though Bradley didn't have any kind of claim on you outside of being your best friend, the thought of this guy making a move on you had his blood starting to boil.

You, with your teasing smile, your soft laugh, the way you leaned in when you spoke. You weren’t some conquest for a guy to pick off at a bar. You weren’t anyone’s plaything, and the idea of this particular pilot thinking he could just waltz in and take what he wanted had Bradley seeing red.

Hell, if it had to be someone else tonight, he’d almost rather it be Jake. At least Jake—underneath all that infuriating cockiness—had some redeeming qualities. For one, he’d treat you with more respect than you’d probably give him credit for. And while it killed Bradley to admit it, he trusted Jake to care for you, in his own strange way.

But this guy? He looked like the type who thought a quick smirk and some half-baked compliments were enough to seal the deal. The type who’d be selfish in bed, thinking more about what he could get than what he could give. And you deserved better—so much better. Bradley could feel his fists clenching at his sides. The last thing he wanted was to see this asshole anywhere near you, let alone trying to charm his way into your night, your bed, your life.

You’re not going to be mine tonight, Bradley thought. But that didn’t mean you were anyone else’s either.

“Yeah, she’s single,” Bradley bit out, his voice tight, unwilling to look the guy in the eye as he made his response.

The pilot gave him a slight, almost dismissive nod, and with a grin that said he knew he had a shot, he turned to walk away, shooting Bradley one last look. “Well, I’ll go make sure she has a good time. Maybe a New Year’s kiss, if she’s lucky.”

Bradley’s blood boiled. The thought of that cocky bastard putting his hands on you had him feeling... nauseous. Protective. Territorial. It made his entire body tense with something darker than jealousy. He wanted to go after him, pull the guy away from you, and tell him to back the hell off. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not like this.

Jake, always the instigator, seemed to sense the shift in Bradley’s mood. He leaned in, his voice low but with that unmistakable smirk he always wore when he knew he was about to push someone’s buttons.

“You’ve got until the time she gets back to make up your mind, Bradshaw,” Jake said, his voice quiet enough for only Bradley to hear, but the challenge was unmistakable. “Because if you don’t, you’re gonna have to watch Badger take her home tonight.”

Bradley felt like his heart had stopped. Badger. That was the pilot’s call sign. A cocky asshole with a reputation for going after whatever—or whoever—he wanted.

His eyes flicked to the bathroom, where you had disappeared moments before. The thought of you with anyone else, especially Badger, was enough to light a fire inside him that he couldn’t control.

No. You weren’t going home with Badger. You were going home with him.

Bradley’s hands tightened into fists. He felt like he was running out of time, and with each passing second, the overwhelming sense that if he didn’t act, he was going to lose you to someone else, ate at him from the inside out.

“Go make your move, Bradshaw,” Jake muttered, clearly loving every second of it.

Bradley didn’t need any more prompting. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked toward the bathroom, where he would make sure that no one, especially not some arrogant pilot, would ever think they had a chance with you.

You had just finished washing your hands in the bathroom when the familiar hum of the bar’s noise drifted into your ears, signaling the impending chaos of the New Year’s Eve countdown. As you walked out, still feeling the buzz from the drinks you’d had, you spotted him.

Bradley was standing near the hallway, leaning casually against the wall just beyond the restroom door, his arms crossed, his eyes scanning the crowd. His gaze locked with yours the moment you stepped into the hallway, and for a brief second, something passed between you—an unspoken understanding.

You blinked, confused by the sight of him waiting there. His posture was relaxed, but the tension in his jaw told another story. "Bradley?" you asked, the question clear in your tone.

Without answering verbally, Bradley took your hand in his, his grip firm but not too tight. He didn’t say anything as he led you back towards the bar, the movement smooth, like he’d planned it all along.

As you passed by Badger, who was leaning on the bar with a few other pilots, you felt Bradley’s arm slip around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. The weight of his arm was a strange comfort, like it had always been meant to be there.

You looked up at him, your brow furrowed in confusion, but the way he kept his eyes forward, focused, made you hesitate in questioning him further. Instead, you leaned your head against his shoulder. It felt natural, like you had been doing it for years, and the warmth radiating from him was something you had been craving all night.

It was the first time he’d really touched you all night—actually touched you. And it was enough to make your stomach flip. You had been dropping hints, but it had seemed like Bradley was ignoring them or maybe just didn’t see them at all. But this? This felt like a shift.

His hand remained on your shoulder, his thumb lightly grazing the skin beneath the fabric of your dress, sending small sparks of heat through you. The sensation was electric, and you tried to focus on the moment, on the conversation happening around you, but all you could feel was the proximity between you and him.

You could feel his breath on the top of your head, his chest rise and fall with each breath he took, and for the first time that night, you allowed yourself to just breathe, to let the closeness sink in without overthinking it.

The others at the bar didn't seem to notice the subtle change between you two, too absorbed in their own chatter. But Bradley’s arm remained firmly around your shoulders, and for some reason, it felt like the kind of touch that meant more than just friendship. It was an anchor, a reassurance, and in that moment, it made everything feel a little bit clearer.

As the two of you approached the corner of the bar where the Dagger Squad was gathered, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between you and Bradley. And whether it was the warmth of his touch or the way he had looked at you when you first came out of the bathroom, you weren’t sure. But you didn’t mind. You were no longer playing a game. You were just… waiting. Waiting for him to finally make the next move.

As the crowd around you began to count down, the energy in the bar reached a fever pitch. The room pulsed with excitement, people laughing, clinking glasses, and shouting over one another in anticipation. You could feel Bradley’s grip on your shoulders tighten as he turned to face you, the noise of the room fading into a distant hum. The look in his eyes was intense—unwavering, but something new simmered beneath the surface.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice low, a hint of uncertainty that was completely uncharacteristic for him.

You felt your heart race, the breath hitching in your throat as you looked at him. His hands were resting lightly on your shoulders, but you could feel the tension in them. He was holding back, but you weren’t going to make him wait anymore.

A slow smile spread across your face as you stepped closer, closing the distance between you two. “Yeah,” you whispered, the word barely escaping you, but it felt like the only thing that needed to be said.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, feeling the solid, familiar weight of him under your fingertips. His hands slid to your waist, his fingers digging into your sides just enough to pull you into him, but there was still something restrained in his movements. His lips parted slightly, as though he were waiting for something, for the perfect moment.

The countdown continued in the background, but all you could focus on was the man in front of you—the way his body was so close, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the electric charge between you two that had been building for what felt like ages.

You smiled again, the excitement of the crowd around you fading. This was it. The moment where everything changed.

When the final "One!" rang out, echoing through the bar, the bell above the bar ringing sharply in time with the cheer, Bradley wasted no more time.

His lips crashed to yours in a kiss that was everything you'd imagined but so much more—passionate, but still restrained. His hands were firm on your waist, like he was holding onto something that threatened to break loose.

For a moment, everything stopped. There was no noise, no countdown, no rowdy crowd—just the heat of his kiss, the soft press of his lips against yours, the soft, subtle pressure of his body against yours.

And then, slowly, it changed.

Bradley slid one hand from your waist to the small of your back, his grip tightening as he pulled you against him. His other hand slid up your neck, his fingers threading through your hair, tugging you closer as he deepened the kiss. The world around you blurred. His mouth moved over yours with a fervor that made your knees weak.

You felt everything in that moment—everything you had been holding back, every hint you’d dropped, every flirtatious moment now coming to fruition. His body was pressed into yours, his chest firm against your breasts, the hardness of him unmistakable. You could feel the heat radiating from him, and it made your pulse race.

Somewhere nearby, you heard whistles and catcalls, but they barely registered in your mind. The only thing that mattered was him, and the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands held you so tight as though he couldn’t get enough. It was messy, and deep, and long—definitely longer than a midnight kiss should be. But you didn’t care. Neither did he.

Bradley’s hands slid lower, gripping your hips as his lips trailed from your mouth to your neck, and you melted into him. The sound of the bar faded into background noise, as if you were the only two people in the room. His touch was a promise, a shift from the playful banter to something far more intense.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily, his eyes darkened with desire. "Happy New Year," he murmured against your lips, and the words sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t respond. There was no need.

"Do you want to leave?" he asked, the question carrying an undertone of something more—something you were both hesitant to put into words.

You smiled, a soft but knowing smile, and nodded without hesitation. You weren’t about to let this moment slip away. Not now, not after everything that had happened tonight.

Bradley’s hand found yours, his fingers curling around yours as if he couldn’t let go. With a small tug, he gently guided you away from the crowded bar. You exchanged quiet goodbyes with the rest of the group, the lingering tension between you and Bradley palpable to anyone who might have been watching. You didn’t care.

When you reached the door, Bradley’s hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing over your skin in a soft, reassuring gesture. The cool night air hit you as you stepped outside, the noise of the bar fading behind you, and it was as if you were in your own world now, just the two of you.

Bradley didn’t say anything else as he led you down the street, the sounds of the city muffled around you. His hand was still holding yours, but you could feel the tension there, like a spring wound too tight. You both knew what was coming next. And you both knew you couldn’t go back. Not after tonight.

* * * * *

The car came to a slow stop in front of your place, the engine cutting out, but the tension between you and Bradley seemed to hum louder than anything else in the night. He didn’t say a word as he turned off the ignition, but there was a shift in the air—a palpable shift that made every part of you tense in anticipation.

As you stepped out of the car, Bradley was already there, waiting for you. His hand slid to your waist, a familiar touch that sent a spark of electricity through you. You walked side by side, the rhythmic sound of your footsteps echoing in the quiet street. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but when you reached your front door, you could feel Bradley’s presence behind you, close and solid, almost like a magnet.

You fumbled with your keys for a second, your fingers shaking as you tried to unlock the door. But Bradley’s hands were already on you—his fingers pressing lightly into your hips, pulling you against him. His warmth radiated into your back, and when you felt the brush of his breath against your neck, your body responded, every inch of you on edge.

His lips found your neck, and you gasped, the sound escaping before you could stop it. “B-Bradley,” you whispered, voice shaking. But instead of pulling away or slowing down, he just hummed in response, the vibration of his chest against your back sending a wave of heat through you.

Finally, you managed to get the key in the lock, and as you opened the door, Bradley’s hands never left you. He followed you inside, closing the door behind you with a quiet click. And then, before you could even react, he pressed you against the door, your back meeting the cool surface with a sharp contrast to the heat of his body.

As Bradley presses you against the door, the heat between you both intensifies. You feel his hands slide down your sides, caressing your curves with a possessive yet gentle touch. The way he brushes his fingers over your skin has your breath catching in your throat, but you can’t help the soft gasp that slips past your lips as he presses his body fully against yours. His lips find your neck again, and this time, it feels different—more demanding, almost desperate.

You tilt your head back to give him more access, and the soft moan that escapes you seems to urge him on. His teeth graze your skin lightly, teasing but just enough to send a jolt through your core.

Bradley shifted, his leg sliding between yours, pressing firmly against your core. The feeling makes you instinctively move closer to him, your hips pressing down onto his jean clad thigh. He moves his leg slightly and the friction of the denim against your core sends another wave of heat coursing through you. You bite your lip to keep the sound from escaping, but it’s useless. He hears it, feels it, and he responds with a low growl.

“God, you’re already so responsive,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear as he presses another slow, deliberate kiss along your neck. His hands travel lower, brushing against your waist before they curve possessively over your hips, pulling you even closer. The way you react to his touch, the way your body seems to melt under his hands, drives him wild. It makes him crave more—more of you, more of this.

His lips trail lower, and he pauses at the curve of your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. You shiver, and Bradley’s eyes darken as he watches the way your body responds to him. You don’t even have to speak; every movement you make, every tiny sound you let out, is enough. Your body is practically begging for more, and he’s more than willing to give it to you.

When his hands slip beneath the hem of your dress, you gasp as his fingers graze the soft skin of your thighs. The sensation makes you arch into him, and you hear him chuckle, a low, wicked sound that sends a thrill down your spine.

“You can’t help it, can you?” he murmurs, his lips hovering near yours as he catches your gaze. “Every touch, every kiss—you’re already losing control.”

You swallow hard, the heat in your core intensifying with his words. It’s as if he knows exactly what’s happening inside you, the way your body reacts to his every move. His confidence only fuels the fire inside you, and you find yourself growing bolder, more eager.

“Bradley…” you whisper, your voice breathless, your body trembling as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. His eyes lock onto yours, and there’s no mistaking the desire burning in them.

“Say my name again,” he commands, his voice rough with the same need you feel.

As you do, the sound of your voice saying his name sends a jolt through him, and he kisses you harder, deeper, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, feel how desperately he wants this too.

As his lips return to yours in a heated kiss, he shifts. Without breaking the kiss, he lifts you effortlessly, his strong arms moving to your butt to support your weight. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips, feeling the hard planes of his body press against you in a way that makes your heart race. His hands slide lower, gripping your thighs as your arms circle around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him, unable to get enough of the kiss, of him.

In one smooth movement, he begins to walk down the hallway, carrying you with ease as if you weigh nothing at all. Your body shudders against his, and you can’t help but let out a soft moan as you feel his strength, the way he holds you so easily, and the way his lips never leave yours. The heat between you both intensifies with every step he takes toward the bedroom.

You feel his lips trail down to your jaw, the kiss turning more desperate, more demanding as he moves you down the hall. Your breath hitches with every step he takes, and the way his body presses so tightly against yours sends jolts of electricity through you. The thought of what’s to come, the anticipation of being alone together in your room, makes your pulse quicken.

He finally reaches the bedroom door, his hands expertly maneuvering to open it, never breaking the kiss, his breath hot against your lips. He kicks the door open with his foot, not caring that the room is still dimly lit. It’s all about you, and him, and the way you make him lose control.

Once inside, he doesn’t stop. With a low growl, he walks you to the bed, his lips crashing against yours again, the kiss filled with urgency now, as if every second apart from you has only made him want you more. His hands roam, pulling you even closer, never once letting you go as he carefully lays you down on the bed, hovering over you, his lips never straying far from yours.

Your body aches with the anticipation, with the desire that’s been building up since the first touch. You look up at him, feeling the heat of his gaze on you, and there’s no mistaking what he wants now—what you both want.

As Bradley hovers over you, his lips still trailing kisses down your neck, he pulls back for just a second, his gaze dark and intense. His hands grip the hem of your dress and, with a deliberate slowness, he pushes it up over your thighs, exposing the delicate lace of your underwear that you had tried so carefully to hide earlier. His breath hitches when his fingers brush over the fabric, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

You feel the heat of his gaze on you, the way he takes in the sight of you beneath him. The anticipation builds, each second more deliciously tormenting than the last. His hand trails over the lace, a teasing touch that sends a shiver of desire down your spine.

"Who’d you wear these for?" His voice is low, almost a growl, and there's a certain edge to it as his fingers lightly trace the intricate pattern of the lace. "Did you wear these for me?"

A mischievous smirk curves your lips, and you feel a rush of playful confidence. Without missing a beat, you respond, “I wore them for Hangman.”

Bradley’s eyes flare with heat, the playful challenge in your words igniting something dangerous in him. For a moment, his gaze hardens, the air between you thick with tension, but then his lips twitch upward into a knowing smirk.

His hand finds your hair, fingers wrapping around a lock, and before you can brace yourself, he tugs your head back, exposing your neck to him. You gasp at the suddenness of the movement, but it only fuels the fire between you. His breath is hot against your skin as he leans in, his voice a low growl.

“Lying to me?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an unmistakable edge to it. “That’s not very nice.”

You shiver in response, his control making your pulse race. Bradley’s grip tightens slightly, urging you to tell him the truth.

“Tell me the truth,” he demands, his voice hushed, almost a plea.

You bite your lip, giving in to the weight of his gaze, and you feel the heat of the moment wash over you. “You,” you finally admit, your voice breathy with desire. “I wore them for you.”

"Good girl,” he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers it.

The praise hits you like a spark, and without even thinking, you find yourself responding, your breath catching as the words sink in. Your body seems to crave it, to crave his approval. The reaction is immediate, instinctual.

Bradley’s eyes flash with satisfaction, and the realization hits him—there’s something there. He watches you closely, a dark glint in his eyes as he leans in, lips brushing against your ear. “You like being praised, don’t you?” he teases, his voice soft but filled with a knowing edge.

Before you can respond, he tries again, testing you. “Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin.

The reaction is instant, your pulse quickening, a soft gasp escaping you. The tension in the room builds, thick with anticipation, and Bradley smirks as he feels you respond to his words.

He leans in even closer, his breath hot against your neck, and whispers with a possessive edge, “Are you going to be my good girl tonight?”

Your heart races at the question, the weight of his words hanging in the air. The heat between you both becomes undeniable, and you find yourself breathless, wanting nothing more than to please him.

As Bradley’s hands slide down your sides and grab the bottom of your dress, starting to push it up, he notices the way your eyes flicker with a hint of hesitation. There’s a subtle tension in your posture - like you’re unsure whether to let go completely.

His hands hover over your bare skin for a moment, as if waiting for permission to continue. He looks up at you, his gaze searching, and his voice drops lower, full of concern.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, his words gentle but insistent.

As Bradley hovers above you, you feel a wave of self-consciousness creeping in. The way he's looking at you, so focused and intent, only seems to make your insecurities more prominent. You swallow, opening your mouth to speak, but the words don’t quite come out the way you intend.

"I know I'm not..." you trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence, the knot of doubt tightening in your stomach.

Bradley immediately notices the shift in your tone. He pauses, searching your face for any signs of discomfort, and gently takes your hand, his thumb brushing over your skin.

"You’re not what?" he asks, his voice soft but insistent, wanting to understand.

You hesitate for a moment longer, the insecurity bubbling up. You don’t want to admit it, but it feels almost impossible to ignore. You shake your head, looking away for a brief second.

Bradley’s fingers tilt your chin up, guiding your gaze back to him, and his eyes are filled with nothing but warmth.

"Hey, look at me." His voice is gentle but firm, grounding you. "I need you to hear me, okay? You are perfect just the way you are." His words sink deep, like a balm for your unease.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and his lips whisper against your skin, "You're beautiful, every part of you. Don’t ever think you’re anything less than that."

The sincerity in his voice is like a switch flipping inside you, and all of a sudden, the tension that had been tight in your chest begins to ease. Bradley’s hands trail slowly down your arms, holding you gently, like he’s never seen anything more perfect. You feel the words settle inside you—his belief in you, his reassurance. You let out a shaky breath, your insecurities fading into the background as you focus on him.

As Bradley’s gaze lingers on you, his hands hovering above your skin, you feel a rush of emotion flood through you. You don’t want to wait any longer. Your hands reach for him, drawing him closer. Without thinking, you pull him in for another kiss, this one slower, deeper, as if the two of you are syncing to the same rhythm, finally on the same wavelength.

Your hands, emboldened by the closeness, move to the bottom of his shirt, fingers brushing over the soft fabric, eager to feel more of him. You start to tug the hem upward, wanting to bring him even closer, your body yearning for his touch.

But then, before you can pull the shirt off entirely, Bradley breaks the kiss, his hands gently stopping yours. He pulls back slightly, his face a mix of concern and tenderness.

"Hey," he murmurs softly, his voice full of care, "I need to make sure you’re still sure. Do you want this? Want me?"

His eyes search yours, silently asking for reassurance, his hands still hovering near yours, giving you control over the next move. There’s no pressure, just a calm, deliberate check-in, ensuring you're comfortable with everything, ready to take the next step.

You pause for a moment, your breath quickening, but you meet Bradley’s eyes with unwavering certainty. You reach up, cupping his face gently, the slight tremble in your hand betraying the intensity of the moment.

“I want this,” you whisper, your voice steady but filled with the anticipation you feel running through every inch of you. “I want you, Bradley. I’m sure.”

Bradley’s expression softens, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, and before you can say anything else, he leans in, kissing you again—deeply, passionately—as if he’s been waiting for this moment as much as you have.

Bradley’s hands hover at the hem of your dress, the fabric soft under his touch. With a slow, deliberate motion, Bradley lifts the dress up, the fabric sliding over your skin, inch by inch. As it moves, you feel exposed—more than just physically, but emotionally. It’s a vulnerable moment, your body bare in front of him, and yet there’s no hesitation in your heart. With Bradley, it feels like this is exactly where you’re meant to be. Every touch, every look, tells you that he sees you, not just your body, but you—and you trust him with that, completely.

The dress is now fully off, discarded somewhere in the room, leaving you in just your lace underwear. You instinctively cross your arms over your chest, a momentary flicker of self-consciousness creeping in, but before it can fully settle, Bradley leans closer.

He doesn’t push you to drop your hands, but gently, he takes them in his, guiding your arms down, his touch soft but firm—reassuring. He gazes at you with an expression that’s both tender and hungry, as if he’s memorizing every curve, every line of your body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost reverent. “I don’t think you realize just how perfect you are.”

You meet his gaze, and for the first time, you truly believe it. His words sink in, melting away the doubt and insecurity that had been lingering in your mind.

Bradley leans in, kissing you softly, the touch tender, almost as if asking you to let go. His hands move to your waist, his fingers brushing your skin as if testing the waters.

“You trust me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the question hanging in the air.

You nod, your lips brushing his as you breathe out a soft, “I trust you.”

With a slow, steady movement, he runs his hands down your sides, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. He’s not rushing; there’s no urgency, just a deep, shared connection that makes everything feel so much more meaningful than it would have with anyone else. You’ve never felt so open, so vulnerable—and yet with him, you don’t feel exposed. You feel seen.

You reach for Bradley’s shirt again, your hands moving with a sense of purpose as you start to lift it up, eager to feel his skin beneath your fingertips. The moment your hands brush against the fabric, Bradley pauses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes darken with something playful, a spark of desire flickering in them.

“You’re impatient,” he teases, leaning back just slightly and lifting his arms, allowing you to pull the shirt over his head. It’s like he’s daring you, challenging you to take what you want. His smirk deepens as the shirt finally slips off, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and abs, his skin slightly flushed under your gaze.

Your hands immediately move, running down his chest, feeling the firm lines of his muscles under your touch. There’s no hiding the way your eyes follow the path of your hands—tracing his abs, the small dip of his waist, the strength in his body. Every inch of him seems to pull you closer, your fingers brushing the contours of his body as you trace every detail.

Bradley watches you, his eyes softening with a mix of amusement and desire. “Like what you see?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

You don't even try to hide it. Your gaze flickers back to his, a small, confident smirk of your own playing at the corners of your lips. “Yeah,” you breathe, “I do.”

He chuckles softly, but there's no mistaking the heat in his eyes. “Good,” he says, his voice steady but full of promise. “Cause you’ve got all of me, baby.”

You’re not sure what it is about the way he says it—something about the confidence, the calm in his voice—but it drives you even further. Without breaking eye contact, your hands slide lower, feeling the taut muscles of his stomach, the warmth of his skin. You don’t have to say anything more; the desire between you both is palpable, and you can feel how he’s enjoying your touch as much as you are enjoying his.

As Bradley pulled away for a moment, he looked down at you, his gaze soft but intense. He moved his hands to your waist, gently brushing his finger along your skin. His fingers hooked into the top of the lace panties still covering you, and he slid them down your legs with a careful yet deliberate touch.

He then grabbed one of your hands, pulling you up into a sitting position as he guided your hand to the top of his jeans, silently asking you to help him. You popped the button open on his jeans and then tugged the zipper down. You then shoved the fabric down his legs, letting it pool around his ankles.

You then reached up, your hand sliding into the top of his boxer briefs, your fingers wrapping around him. You heard him let out a breath and looked up at him as you watched his head fall back and his eyes close. “F-fuck, baby.” He breathed out.

You smirked to yourself and then shuffled off the bed, and onto your knees on the carpet in front of him. You pushed his boxers down, pulling him out and then leaned in to wrap your lips around him.

“S-shit.” He mutters as you lean in and lip the precum from his tip before you started to take more of him into your mouth.

One of his hands move to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as you bob on him a few times. You then pull your mouth off of him and lick up the underside of his shaft, along the vein that’s protruding.

“Th-that…just like that.” He groans, and you smile to yourself, loving the reactions you’re getting from him before you wrap your lips around him again.

You bob a few more times, each time taking a little more of him into your mouth. You feel his fingers start to tug on your hair and his thighs start to tremble slightly.

You reach up and run your hands down his thighs, your nails digging ever so slightly into his skin causing him to hiss. You then wrap your hand around the bottom part of his shaft, squeezing and moving it in rhythm with your mouth as you feel him starting to twitch in your mouth.

He loosens his grip on your hair and instead gathers the hair into a loose, messy ponytail with his fist to get a better view of your face and mouth.

He thrusts a few more times until you hear him mutter a “f-fuck” and then his hips still, pushing himself all the way into your mouth as you feel the ropes of cum hit the back of your tongue.

Bradley took a step back, his breathing still heavy as he came down from his release. Bradley’s hands are gentle yet firm as he pulls you to your feet, his fingers brushing over your skin.

His eyes meet yours, and the intensity there makes your breath catch in your throat. Without a word, he guides you back to the bed, his movements deliberate and unhurried, like he’s savoring every moment.

As he helps you settle against the sheets, his hands slide down your legs, spreading them apart with a tender care that sends a shiver racing up your spine. His gaze flickers to yours, checking in with silent but unmistakable intent. The way he looks at you—a mix of devotion and desire—makes your chest tighten in the best way.

But just as he begins to lower himself, you instinctively reach out, your hand brushing against his arm.

“Bradley, wait,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly—not from fear but from the overwhelming rush of emotion coursing through you.

He stops immediately, his brows knitting together as his eyes search yours. “What is it?” he asks softly, his voice low and rough, but tinged with concern. “Do you want to stop?”

You shake your head, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. “No, I just... I just want you,” you admit, your voice barely audible but filled with honesty. “I need you, Bradley.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, his lips curving into a slow, understanding smile. “Anything you want.”

Bradley's smile softens as he leans over you, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s both reassuring and electric. His hands roam your sides, grounding you as his touch sends ripples of warmth through your body. He pauses, his forehead resting gently against yours.

"I need to make sure you're ready," he murmurs, his voice laced with care and restraint despite the heat in his gaze.

He reaches down and slides a finger up your slit before inserting a finger. You let out a soft, impatient sigh, your hands gripping his shoulders as you shift beneath him.

“Bradley, I’m ready,” you insist, your voice steady but tinged with urgency. “I’ve been ready.”

He chuckles low in his chest, the sound rumbling through you. His lips brush your cheek, then your ear, as he murmurs, "Easy, sweetheart. I want you to enjoy this.”

The tenderness in his tone makes your heart ache in the best way, but it doesn’t quell the fire coursing through you. He slides a second finger inside you and starts to pump them in an out of you, before he slides a third one in.

Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck as you tilt your hips up toward him, your movements deliberate and unspoken proof of your eagerness. His breath hitches slightly, and he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression soft but full of amusement.

"You’re something else, you know that?" he teases, his grin crooked as his thumb brushes over your cheek.

"Then stop stalling," you counter with a small, defiant smirk, your voice playful despite the longing in your eyes.

His grin widens, and he shakes his head, his laughter quiet but full of affection. "Impatient, huh?" he says, his tone teasing but laced with promise.

Bradley shifts above you, his playful smirk fading into something softer, more serious. He leans down, brushing a tender kiss against your lips before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His hand cups your cheek as his thumb strokes your skin, and you can see the slight hesitation flicker in his eyes.

"Wait," he says gently, his voice low but steady. "What about protection?"

You blink, his question pulling you from the haze of your desire.

He seems almost sheepish as he adds, "I didn’t bring anything. I wasn’t exactly expecting this."

Your lips curve into a small smile, and you nod toward the dresser behind him. "Top drawer," you say softly. "I think there’s some in there."

He glances back briefly, his brow lifting in mild amusement. "You think?"

"It’s been awhile, it’s not something I normally keep on my weekly grocery list.” You pause for a moment before continuing. “But if not…I’m on birth control, and I was clean at my last physical and I haven’t been with anyone since."

"Still," he says after a moment, his voice warm but resolute, "let’s check, just to be safe."

He leans over, reaching for the dresser, and you take the opportunity to let your hands glide along his back, feeling the taut muscles shift under your touch. When he opens the drawer and finds what he’s looking for, he holds it up with a grin.

"Got it," he says, his tone lightening, though the look he gives you as he turns back is anything but.

He positioned himself between your hips as he slid the condom onto his length. He looked up at you, almost as if silently making sure you wanted this. And once you nodded in confirmation he started to push the tip inside of you.

Bradley's movements are slow, deliberate, but as he shifts, you can’t help the soft hiss of discomfort that escapes your lips. His entire body stills immediately, and his head snaps up to meet your gaze. His brows knit together, concern darkening his features.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice laced with worry. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head quickly, not wanting him to feel guilty, but the way his eyes search your face tells you he’s not convinced.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your voice trembling slightly. “I just need a second.”

He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if to reassure you. “Take all the time you need,” he whispers, his tone steady but full of care.

His hands stroke soothing paths along your sides, grounding you, while his gaze never wavers from yours. “You tell me if it’s too much,” he adds, his voice softer now but resolute. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You nod, your hand reaching up to brush his cheek. “I’m okay,” you say again, this time with more conviction. “I promise.”

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, his thumb brushing over your hip as if silently asking for permission to continue. When you give him a small smile and a nod, he leans in to kiss you again, the tenderness in his actions a clear reminder that his focus is entirely on you.

His hips soon find a steady random as he pushed into you and then pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in. It didn’t take long, maybe a minute or two, until the pain faded completely and you started to feel the knot in your stomach tightening.

You can feel the change in him too, the way his body tenses beneath your touch. His breathing grows heavier, more ragged, and his movements falter just slightly as he draws closer to the edge. Your eyes drift down, catching the way his stomach tightens, the subtle ripple of muscles contracting involuntarily. It’s mesmerizing—the sheer vulnerability of it, the way his body responds to you so completely.

When you look back up at him, his jaw is clenched, his brows drawn together, and yet his gaze still finds yours. In that moment, he looks utterly undone, and it sends a shiver through you.

“I’m-”

“Me too,” he breathed out as you felt his grip on your hip tighten. “Come on, baby. Give it to me.”

And that’s all it takes. Your head rolls back and your eyes close as your back arches off the ground. Bradley’s grip on your hips tighten, holding you in place, just a second before his hips still and he releases into the condom.

Bradley collapses onto the bed beside you, half-draped over your body, his head resting near your shoulder as his arm instinctively wraps around your waist. His chest rises and falls against yours, both of you struggling to catch your breath as the quiet of the room wraps around you. The light sheen of sweat on his skin glistens faintly in the dim light, and the warmth of his body grounding you in the moment.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. You’re both too caught up in the aftermath, the unspoken emotions swirling between you. Bradley presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering there as if to remind you he’s still close, still here.

“You okay?” he murmurs finally, his voice hoarse but full of genuine concern. His hand brushes over your side, tender and careful, as if he’s checking for any signs of discomfort.

You nod, turning your head to meet his gaze. “Yeah,” you whisper, a small, breathless smile tugging at your lips. “More than okay.”

Bradley smiles back, his eyes softening. “Good,” he says, his thumb now tracing slow, soothing circles on your hip. “Because that...was amazing.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, your chest shaking with the sound. “Yeah, it was,” you agree, your fingers idly trailing down the length of his arm as you let the moment settle between you.

After a moment, he shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look at you more fully. His free hand reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “You’re incredible,” he says softly, his voice carrying a depth of sincerity that makes your cheeks flush.

You don’t know how to respond, so you lean up just enough to press a kiss to his jaw. “So are you,” you manage, and it’s true. There’s something about the way he looks at you now, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters to him, that makes your chest tighten with a mix of affection and vulnerability.

He grins at your words, but it’s not his usual cocky grin—it’s softer, almost bashful. “I should grab us some water,” he says, even though he doesn’t make any move to leave your side.

“Or we could just stay like this,” you suggest, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bradley chuckles, settling back against you. “Deal,” he murmurs, letting his head rest against your shoulder once more.

The two of you lie there in comfortable silence, your bodies tangled together, as the world outside fades away.

#Top Gun Rooster #Top Gun Rooster Fanfiction #Top Gun Rooster Fanfic #Top Gun Rooster Fic #Bradley Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw Fanfiction #Bradley Bradshaw Fanfic #Bradley Bradshaw Fic #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #Top Gun Rooster x reader #Bradley Bradshaw Smut #Bradley Rooster Smut

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lost-in-fandoms · 2 days ago

Text

Winter Warmers Day 31: NYE countdown. Maxiel. About 1.5k words.

"Max, Maxy, Maximum, Maximus Prime!"

Max turns away from his conversation with Alex just in time to catch Daniel around the waist as he stumbles into him, the drink in his cup sloshing over his wrist.

"Hello, Daniel," Max says, unable to stop himself from smiling, readjusting his grip so that he can hold Daniel more comfortably.

From the corner of his eye he catches Alex moving away, probably deciding that their conversation is over now that Daniel has Max's attention. Which is a very fair assumption, given that in all the years they've been friends, Max has always dropped anyone and anything to focus on Daniel.

Some might call it pathetic, to still be in love with his best friend after so long, but Max doesn't really care about what other people think. He just cares about Daniel's warm weight in his arms, and the fact that when all the people at this party will have left their house, Daniel will still be there, probably moving stuff around to pretend he's helping with the clean up.

"Are you having fun, Daniel?" he asks, trying to maneuver them towards the kitchen, both to clean up Daniel's wrist before he complains about the stickiness and to not feel like every single person is staring at them.

Well, every single person other than Charles and Carlos, who seem to be trying to get acquainted with each other's tonsils.

"Yes," Daniel answers, letting himself be dragged away, stumbling unhelpfully on his own feet.

Once they're in the kitchen, occupied only by Logan and Oscar, heads bent over a phone, a half empty bottle of wine next to them, Max hoists Daniel on the counter, right next to the sink, swiping away a few empty paper plates.

"Stay still, please," he tells Daniel, grateful he doesn't have to shout as much over the music anymore. They should probably start lowering that actually, if they don't want the cops called on them again, but it's new year's eve, for sure old Meredith could let it slide this once.

He plucks Daniel's cup from his hand, something of not clear nature inside it, and wets a couple paper towels, gently wiping at his wrist and hand.

"Maxy," Daniel says, dropping his head forward to rest it on Max's shoulder. He's making Max's job harder like this, but Max is not going to complain. He just hums, showing Daniel he's listening.

"I have decided on my resolutions list," Daniel tells him, sounding slightly more sober than he did before.

Max drops the paper towels and grabs an empty cup, filling it with water from the sink and handing it to Daniel, coaxing him to raise his head to drink it.

Daniel had been talking about his resolutions list for more than a week. Max is not sure why he's so set on having new year's resolutions, since in the past eight years he's known him not once Daniel has been the kind of person who follows a plan, but he's been listening anyway every time he brought the topic up.

Max doesn't understand why he's having so much trouble creating the list either. Sure, Daniel does have his moments of perfectionism, but seeing him actually get stressed about this had been puzzling.

"Yeah? Can I know it?" he asks, dropping the now empty cup when Daniel hands it to him before opening his arms, letting Daniel comfortably slump into him again.

Somewhere on his left, Logan and Oscar leave the kitchen, closing the door behind them, cutting off a little more of the noises of the party, making Max feel like he's in his private Daniel bubble for the first time this evening.

He's not ashamed of saying that he's a bit possessive, greedy about having his fair share of Daniel's time, but he's gotten better with the years. The last time Daniel had been in a relationship, Max hadn't even tried to scare them off, but they had gone anyway after a couple of months, leaving a very mopey Daniel behind. Max had keyed their car.

"First thing, I want to learn how to play the banjo," Daniel says, way too loud way too close to Max's ear.

It makes Max smile anyway, knowing this point will be abandoned in a few months at most, just like every other instrument Daniel had tried to learn, getting bored with each one of them.

"Good start," he encourages anyway, because he's nothing but disgustingly soft when it comes to Daniel, even worse when he's tipsy like tonight.

He gets rewarded by Daniel pulling back to beam at him, before going back to Max's shoulder.

Sometimes holding himself back from kissing him takes all of Max's strength.

"Then, I want to improve my handwriting."

Yep, just as Max had thought. Another task that will be abandoned, like all the other times Daniel had tried before.

"I can read your handwriting," Max tells him, because it's true. No matter the kind of drunken chicken scratch he finds on the grocery list, Max has learned to interpret it all. It's not that hard really, when you manage to recognise the subtle differences between the squiggles. Part of the game is actually learning what is supposed to be a word and what is a doodle.

"You can, because you're great," Daniel mumbles against his shirt, as Max tries to pretend he can't feel himself blushing, "but I am so tired of people complaining about it."

"People should just learn how to read," Max tells him, unhappy with someone making Daniel feel like he should change. Which is very stupid, because Daniel is perfect, chicken scratches included.

It makes Daniel laugh, waist moving under Max's hands, his wet bottom lip dragging against the exposed part of Max's shoulder.

"Do you have any more?" he rushes to ask, trying to distract himself from the feeling of it.

In the other room, the music gets lowered, and for a second Max thinks it's the cops again, until he hears someone scream two minutes!

They should probably rejoin their friends, celebrate midnight with them, but Max is quite comfortable where he is, and he doesn't want to see Daniel grab someone to kiss, even if just to laugh about it afterwards.

He had long learned his lesson, after one year he had tried to angle himself in Daniel's line of view, just for him to reach around him and grab Charles instead. Max had gotten way too drunk that night.

"One more," Daniel says, voice even lower now that the music is off and they're so close. He sounds more hesitant suddenly, nervous fingers fidgeting with the hem of Max's shirt.

"Do you want to tell me?" Max asks, just to be sure. Sometimes Daniel needs a little push before he opens up, but it's always a very thin line between getting an answer and being shut out with a joke instead. This time Daniel nods.

"I want to suck your dick."

Max chokes on his spit, trying to push back Daniel to be able to see his face, feeling his eyes go wide.

It wouldn't be the first time they joke about it, but Daniel doesn't sound like he's joking, and if this is a prank Max is going to get very drunk again and probably go cry in the bathroom, but...

But when he manages to push Daniel's head up, he's blushing and he's looking at Max from underneath his lashes, fear and determination mixing on his face.

"You mean it?" Max forces himself to ask, sounding breathless. His heart is beating too fast, so loud he's sure Daniel can hear it too.

Daniel nods, one corner of his mouth turning up in a shadow of his usual smile.

"My last resolution is to stop lying to myself about my feelings for you," he says.

It echoes around his brain, bouncing around and amplifying: feelings for you feelings for you feelings for you feelings for you.

In the other room someone starts the countdown, and Max reaches forward, cupping Daniel's jaw with his hands.

"Are you gonna buy me dinner first?" he asks, just to see Daniel smile properly.

"Can I do it next year?"

Max rolls his eyes, but he still chuckles, weak for Daniel always, even when it's his bad jokes.

Three, two, one...

On the other side of the door sound explodes, their friends cheering and screaming, but Max barely hears it as he presses his lips against Daniel's.

(George screams when he opens the door to come grab the champagne chilling in the fridge and finds them making out against the counter, Max's thigh between Daniel's. The new wave of cheers that follows it is so loud Max starts mentally preparing his apologies for old Meredith and the cops, even as he copies Daniel in flipping them all off.)

#maxiel #my writing #i had an idea for the spicy prompt too but then this took over #winter warmers 2024 #i still want to get some of the older ones done but woweee last day!!!!!#a very special thank you to bean for the prompts #and a very special thank you to all the people who has said nice things about my writing in the past month <3 #if you ever reblogged even just one of these and said something nice we're best friends now

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jjoongstar · 2 days ago

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𝕷𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑

➸pairing: grim reaper seonghwa x innocent fem reader

➸genre: fluff, angst

➸wc: 3.4k

➸warnings: none. mentions of nicknames. death

➸a/n: an apology post for being mia for a while (please forgive me). not proofread!😔🫂

you sat by the window seat in your bedroom, reading a book while you bask in the evening sun. a soft blanket over your lap to keep you cozy and a cushion behind your back. you were so into the story that you didn't bother on what's happening appearing, in your bedroom.

a tall dark figure appeared suddenly in your room and it approached behind you in silence. you sense the presence and looked over your shoulder right before the figure could touch you. its pale hand was near to your shoulder but it halted when you noticed its presence.

silence fills the air as you attentively tried to figure out, who or what even is this peculiar figure. tall and lean with a long black cloak that covers the top of its head and its whole body, only revealing its face and hands. you stare back at the eyes that bore into yours from the start. though he had an intimidating look, you didn't fear him at all. instead, you felt at ease with its aura.

"i really like your eyes,"

"what?" the unknown figure was taken aback by your words and he stumbled backwards a few steps.

its face contorts in a shocked expression and it felt its heart thump when you smile at it. it clutches the fabric of its robe over its chest, feeling the weird sensation. what the hell is this? i don't have a heart!

you marked the last page you read and place the book aside before you make small steps towards the unknown entity. your smile never falter as you reach up your hands and graze your fingers across its cheek. cold. his skin was iced cold on your fingertips. you saw how the entity hitched its breath upon your touch.

"you're so pretty too. who are you?" there was no response as it was still in a stunned state. you gasp when your brain connected the dots.

"are you perhaps… an angel?!"

"huh? EW NO!" it felt disgusted by your assumption of its identity and grabbed your wrist, shoving it away harshly from its face. when you winced in pain, guilty flooded its mind.

"sorry, i didn't mean to hurt or scare you," its raspy voice speaks again.

"you didn't scare me, why would i be afraid of an angel like you," a pretty face like that, who on earth would be afraid?

"first off, I'm not that kind of angel you think i am. also, everyone fears me, so why are you…smiling?"

"there's nothing scary of you angel!" you said giddily and beams a wider smile at him.

"stop calling me that!" it said through gritted teeth and eyes blaring in flame. but you kept that smile on your face, yet you felt more intrigued over this unidentified presence.

"then do you have a name i should call you? oh my name is-"

"i already know who you are. there's no need for introductions when…you're gonna…huh?" the last words from it fades slowly when you wrap your arms around its middle and your eyes full of gleam, looking at it from below.

its shaky hands tried to push you away but the way your face was full of admiration and eyes glimmer in hope, it tugs another string at its non-existent heart. i guess it wouldn't hurt for my name since she's gonna die either way.

"seonghwa. call me seonghwa,"

"hwa!" his name sounded so beautiful too, it matches his face really well and you felt so happy that he finally gave his name to you. you hugged him a bit tighter than before.

"no, seong…hwa," he emphasised every syllable of his name.

"hwa!"

"seonghwa,"

"HWA!" he sighs in defeat and lets you win. however, he felt his body getting relaxed when you have him in your hold. for once, he felt…comfort.

"now dear, the reason I'm here is to-"

"to accompany me!" you cut him off and release him from your grasp as you went to your wardrobe.

he tried to speak up in defense but you ignored him as you dress yourself up in something warm and suitable for an outside occasion. you grab his wrist and drags him towards outside. even though he is bigger and much stronger than you, he felt like he should just let you take him to wherever you wish. that is, to take a walk outside.

he kept on babbling he doesn't want to to this, but he still kept on walking beside you because your hand felt so soft touching his, and you never let go of his hand. after a while, you got used to his skin temperature. cold, but soft.

you pass by your neighbor's house and the owner greeted you. being your usual self, you gleefully greeted back with a wave of your hand.

"I'm here with a friend today," you tug seonghwa to show off to the old lady, but she had a concerned look instead of the expression you hoped for. was she not happy with the new friend?

"oh uh dear, i bet your friend must be as lovely as you are, i hope…. you go get along now," she mutters out the words carefully in a sentence. hoping she doesn't hurt your feelings.

you continued your journey with seonghwa and truthfully, you felt a bit sad that the lady didn't greet seonghwa too. does she not see him?

"no one can see me accept you," you turned your head over him surprised with his sudden response. can he read minds?

"well, let's say, magically, i do can read your mind, but just yours," he chuckles and you felt your heart flutters upon hearing him.

"so you are an angel!" you stopped in your tracks and tugs on his arm.

"not so, well, sort of, actually I'm a…uh…I'm…" he tongue refuses to mutter out the words as he saw the way your eyes sparkles in adoration and hope at him. he didn't have the heart to say the truth when you're like this. but you kept the smile on your face, waiting for his full response.

"yea, i am what you call that," he sighs.

"angel hwa!" you finally release his hand and you skipped your way back home. you've never felt so happier to eventually got a friend, an angel at that. that's what you thought he was.

seonghwa on the other hand, his lips formed into a small smile on his face, his eyes admiring you from behind. she looks so adorable. what the actual fuck? he slaps his own face, realizing his own actions.

you made yourself dinner and even made extra for seonghwa. he doesn't have to eat, but seeing your efforts in the cooking, he force the whole dish down his throat. he sat beside you and prop his chin with the palm of his hand while he admires you enjoying your meal. he likes the way you would squirm in joy and praise the food in every bite.

so cute. what the hell seonghwa?! he snaps himself out and clears up his throat. then tells you to clean yourself up for bed. you happily obliged to his orders with a happy stomach.

once you made yourself in bed, seonghwa tells you to sleep, but you only whine back at him as you were not that sleepy yet. seonghwa sighs and sits down beside you on the bed, he leans his back to the headboard.

"sleep now or you'll be cranky next morning," he pulls the blanket over your chest, tucking you in.

"but i don't get cranky," you whine again with a pout. seonghwa's lips betrays him once again with another smile and he caresses your head gently. yea, a pure soul like yours would never be in that state. a pure soul. SOUL!

seonghwa's eyes widen and found himself in a daze again and snaps out of it quickly. your eyes never left seonghwa's beautiful face. you want to admire it your whole life. you finally felt the drowsiness crept in when you yawned.

"will i see you again next morning, hwa?" you ask him with lidded tired eyes.

seonghwa hesitated at first. should he tell the truth or should he kept on lying? he bit his lip, before responding to you.

"yes, you will. that is if you close your eyes now sweetheart," you scrunch you nose when he boops it.

you felt so safe with him. you held hope in his promise. eager in wanting to see him first thing in the morning, and you force yourself to sleep.

seonghwa waited for you to finally drift off when your breathing fell consistent and your mind at peace. he stood up carefully from the bed, staring down at your whole body. he lets out a long sigh before he brings out the scythe he had kept hidden from your vision.

he needs to take your soul now. he was supposed to do that when he first met you, but he delayed. you were the first person to like him, to admire his beauty, the first human being to actually hugged him. hug. who knew a human would hug a grim reaper that was bout to take its soul away.

seonghwa grips the scythe's holder tighter. hesitate clouds his head. take her soul now seonghwa! he hovers the weapon above your body but his movements faltered when his eyes lands on your face, snoring quietly with a smile. must be having a nice dream.

FUCKING HELL SEONGHWA! he caught himself off guard and threw his scythe away as it disappeared again, back to its safe place. he walks away from you and runs his hand through his hair. frustration. confusion. denial.

he sits down on a chair that was facing you from a far. he decides to calm himself down and maybe wait a just little bit longer, then he'll take your soul. the night went on in silence as he stayed there admiring you from a far.

through the dark sky, from the same window he first laid eyes on you, dark smoke clouds behind it and slips through into the bedroom through a little gap. the smoke then swirls around the end of your bed and it thickens to form two new identical entities.

"fucking hell, look at her san!" said the first dark little figure with horns to the other one that looks just the same just a tad bit bigger.

you twist in your sleep that results in the blanket to be pushes aside, revealing your bare calves.

"wooyoung! she looks so scrumptious, don't you think?" the other one hovered over your body and points out at your exposed plump skin.

"i want to sink my teeth in and savor her…" the one named wooyoung reached out his hands and bare its teeth to you while his other companion, san, was already drooling to the thought.

"don't you two dare touch her, demons." a thundering growl elicits by the grim reaper from the darkness in the corner of the bedroom.

the two little demons shrieked and hugged each other as they were surprised by the sudden interruption of their nice meal.

"damn, seonghwa! calm down will ya. you're always cranky all the time, try smiling for once," wooyoung pulled away from san first and walks over to seonghwa but he only made a few steps before he halted as seonghwa gave him an intense glare.

"I'm a reaper, why should i be smiling you filthy thing. why do you two chose her to disturb tonight either way?" seonghwa stood beside your bed as to protect you from the harm of the two demons.

"well actually we're not here for her, we're here for you. she's just so beautiful we kinda got distracted," san was the one tho explained while wooyoung nodded, agreeing with him. seonghwa only gave a glaring look just for the same demon to further elaborate.

"her soul was supposed to collected, but in the list, its still hasn't, so we we're tasked to go check it out as it was your responsibility, seonghwa," a tight frown forms on the reaper's face. he knew this would happen. he sighs in annoyance before giving his reason.

"give me some time, i promise I'll give it soon. now go back to hell you two!" seonghwa shoos them away but they were whining not wanting to leave and stay with you.

"get the fuck out!" seonghwa opens wide the window before shoving the two outside and closes it back shut and pulls down the curtain.

he heard a soft sound from behind him, you were twisting and turning in your sleep, muttering incoherent words. he steps closer to you and heard you calling out for him, but your eyes were still shut. he lays himself down beside you and pulls you into his arms.

i shall never let anything taint your little innocent soul.

"hwa…" you mumble out his name and he shushes you back to sleep.

"I'm here, you're hwa is here."

your body felt his presence and snuggles into his chest. seonghwa pulls you in tighter and lets you rest under his protection for the entire night.

you felt bright light beaming onto your face and you were woken up by the sun shining from your window. your stretch out your limbs with a soft grunt. you felt sudden adrenaline that morning, it was the most peaceful sleep you've ever had and you wanted to tell seonghwa. you need see seonghwa. you looked all over your room, but no one was there.

"seonghwa?" you heart sinks when there was no response. did he left? but he promised…

"seonghwa!" you voice in a higher octave but cracked as you were on edge of bawling your eyes out.

"my dear, i was out to fetch some food for you," his voice erupted from the opening of the door. you jumped out of bed and ran towards him. he held the tray of a full meal higher in the air so it doesn't bump you when you abruptly wrap your arms around him.

"i thought you left,"

"well, i didn't, now sit down and eat your food, human," you happily made your way to a small table as seonghwa puts down the tray and lets you gobble them all up.

you were hugging in bed and you rest the side of your head to his chest, and you hum curiously as you let your hand wander around his chest.

"i don't have a heart sweetie," he said

"well, i do," you exclaimed and took his frail hand and place it firmly on your chest. he gasped quietly as he feels your heartbeat. the soft thumping felt so surreal to his hands. it felt so soft and beautiful. and he wanted to keep on feeling and hearing this heartbeat forever. to cherish it everyday of his immortal lifetime.

realization of his true demeanor made him snap out of the trance you put him in. he realized he should've end that beating heart of yours, not admire it.

he pushes you away from him. though, his actions never made you think negatively. you giddily grab him back and snuggles back on his chest. seonghwa was easily defeated by your innocence and he lets you get comfortable with him again. another day of spending more time you, and ignoring his true intentions.

days after days, you two spent a lot of time together, actually, the whole time. from morning to night, from dusk till dawn, from midnight to midday. every hour, every minute, every second. you enjoyed his company very much and he was getting more comfortable with you and protected you at all times behind your back without you knowing.

seonghwa sat on your bed with his legs crossed and back leans against the headboard as he listens attentively to your little rambling of the book you're currently reading.

"…and then the queen took in her late husband's mistress into becoming her new slave and they got married in the end! yayyy happily ever after to them!" you throw your hands both up in the air joyfully.

"you're so adorable, come here," seonghwa chuckles and you made your way to him before he pulls you down to sit on his lap.

the longer he stayed with you, you became very familiar of his bold and alluring scent. he smells so rich and seductive. the burst of sweet and spicy, like of coffees and vanillas which gives off a warm and also intoxicating aura.

seonghwa wraps your smaller body with his arms. you snuggle into his embrace as you leaned your back against his chest. his fingers trace undefinable patterns on the skin of your arms. you elicits soft giggle as it tickles you a bit. hearing your soft sounds, also made seonghwa giggles along with you. it tugs the heartstrings of his non existing heart.

you love little moments like this with him.

but luck was not on your side that day. the same smoke that almost haunt you in your sleep came back. though this time, it was only the the demon named wooyoung that appeared.

"yo seonghwa, its been three months. what took you so long to take…her…soul??" you gasp when you laid eyes on the horned devil. seonghwa quickly covered your eyes with his hands and you felt his chest vibrates as he growls.

"FUCKING HELL!! are you hugging…wait…why are you…no wait…have you lost your…wait WAIT…WHAT ARE EVEN YOU DOING PARK SEONGHWA?!!" the little menace widens his eyes. hands pulling the long strands of his hair. shouting. screaming. panicking. shocked? no, he was far more than that. he almost exploded with the sight in front of him.

you tried to release his hand as you wanted to have your visions back but his grip to your face became tighter.

"please leave…" you heard him sigh.

"please? did you just said please? damn, a reaper begging and said the 'P' word to a lowlife like me? that's a first. what have you become…"

"I SAID LEAVE!" the demon quickly disappeared right before the blade of seonghwa's scythe could touch him when he swung it.

the room fell in utter silence when seonghwa retracts his hand back. you looked down to your hands instead of looking to the man behind you.

"I'm sorry, i should've told the truth. that I'm-"

"a grim reaper,"

you felt seonghwa's body getting tense after hearing those words coming out from your mouth. you turned around and held his face in the palm of your hands.

"i already knew from the first time you came into my room,"

"huhh how? then…why did you-"

"you reek death, hwa," your chuckles made him giggle. let's savor this last smile of him before the last breath.

sorrow fills seonghwa's eyes. you couldn't help but feel bad for him. he pulls you closer to his chest, his face on the side of your neck, his hands placed themselves on your back, pushing you as close as he can to you. chest to chest. he felt every beat of your heart. remember and loving every thump. you wrap your arms around his neck and brush along his silky black hair.

"I'm really sorry…i should've done it sooner…i should not have grown attached to you…i-" you shush him and heard little sobs from the side of your ear.

he pulls you away and his hand cups the side of your cheek as his thumb rubs along your cheekbones. he pulls your face closer to his and place his lips onto yours. for an angel of death, his lips were soft and it tasted so sweet.

"forgive me, my little soul," he pulls away from you as his other hand grips the handle of his scythe behind you till it could almost snap in two.

"seonghwa." you trace your fingers across seonghwa's beautiful dark teary eyes for the last time.

you flash him a soft smile and gave him a last kiss on his lips. a tear rolled down seonghwa's face as he felt your last breath on his face and your body fell limp in his hold. he choked on his sobs when he no longer feel your lovely beating heart.

for a grim reaper who has no soul, he felt his non-existent heart shatter to a million pieces.

she finally said my name.

dividers

taglist: @engentiny @seonghw4ffles

network: @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

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