#nothing happened it’s just roll call time

[shy2-29]

Faking It ♡ l.hs [m]

⋆ pairing: lee heeseung x reader

⋆ wc: 12.5k

⋆ synopsis: You had never liked Heeseung, and he had never liked you either. Over the three years, both you and Heeseung had become the most popular student in the university. You barely spoke to each other, just exchanged the occasional spiteful look in the hallways. You had sworn never to speak to Heeseung again—until one day, he unexpectedly asked you to be his fake girlfriend.

⋆ warning: not proof read, vomiting, public humiliation, fingering, p in v, pet names, unprotected sex, nipple play, bullying, teasing, name calling, fake dating, kissing, harsh language, swearing, spitting, choking, crying, lmk if I missed anything!

18+ mdni | masterlist

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You had never liked Heeseung, and he had never liked you either. It all began when you were both freshmen in university and were invited to a spring break party at a frat house. After consuming almost 6 shots of alcohol, you felt dizzy and rushed to the bathroom to vomit. Unintentionally, you left the door slightly open, and Heeseung, recording the entire incident, uploaded it to his social media account, which nearly all of your school followed.

"excuse me, what?!” you exclaimed in disbelief. As a new school year started, it marked your third year in university. You were on your way to your lockers to grab your belongings when Heeseung suddenly appeared, nonchalantly leaning against the lockers, resembling the stereotypical high school crush.

He simply folded his arms against his chest and repeated the question bluntly, “Be my fake girlfriend for the entire semester.” No ‘please’ or anything, just a short and direct order. Even you had to admit he was extremely hot—black hair, sharp and distinct features, muscular figure—but you definitely hated that attractive face of his due to the incident.

You crossed your arms and gave Heeseung a once-over, adopting a contemplative expression. "Why do you need a fake girlfriend?" you repeated, your tone laced with skepticism.

“Simple.” He simply shrugged as he pushed himself off from the locker and took a couple of steps towards you, closing the distance between you two. He leaned down slightly so his eyes were leveled with yours, “I’m sick and tired of my parents asking if I have a girlfriend. It’s exhausting lying to them all the time so I need someone to pretend to be my girlfriend for a few months, and they just happen to fall for you.” He spoke with as if you were nothing more than a mere tool.

"Why not tell them you're too busy with your studies?" you quipped, followed by a sarcastic chuckle. "Oh wait, I nearly forgot—you've been suspended twice! Who would believe you're too swamped with academics?”

He rolled his eyes at your comment and continued talking, his voice laced with annoyance, “My parents don’t care about my education. They only care about my reputation and what others think of me because they’re so damn arrogant and stuck-up. In their eyes, a good reputation requires a girlfriend, and that’s all they care about when it comes to me.” He was starting to sound frustrated, but not because of you, just his parents.

You scoffed at his response, rolling your eyes in disbelief. "Do you honestly think I'm going to agree to be your fake girlfriend after that humiliating video you recorded and posted of me?"

“Ah, yes. That.” He let out a short, cynical chuckle as he ran a hand through his ebony hair. “I completely forgot about that.” Bullshit, you thought. “Listen, all I’m asking for is that you be my fake girlfriend. It’s not like I’m asking you to really date me. It’ll literally just be a few months.”

You gestured towards a group of girls nearby, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. "Why not ask one of those girls over there? I'm certain a bunch of them would be absolutely thrilled to have you merely glance in their direction."

He glanced over to the group of girls that you were gesturing to, and in all honesty, you were probably right. They always swooned over him whenever he passed them. Any of them would be dying to be Heeseung’s girlfriend, fake or not. But he looked back at you, a hint of annoyance in his eyes, “There’s a reason I asked you and not them.”

“I have a type and none of them matches it.” Heeseung stepped even closer to you so your bodies were almost touching. He tilted his head as scanned you up and down while speaking, “You’re pretty, smart enough. And no offense, you’re not the most popular girl here, but you’re certainly not unpopular.”

"So, you're saying you have a crush on me?" you teased, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips.

He rolled his eyes once again, “No, don’t flatter yourself, y/n. As I said, you’re just my type.” His hot, breath was now fanning over your neck and he was close enough that you could smell the scent of his cologne, a mix of musk and sandalwood, surrounding the air.

“No”

“Excuse me?”

“I said no”

Now, it was his turn to roll his eyes. He scoffed in disbelief, “You’re rejecting me? You honestly think you’re in the position to reject me?”

You feigned fear, mockingly exclaiming, "Stop, im shaking!" Then, you added with a scoff, "Oh, wait, let me guess—no one has ever turned you down, right?"

You were spot on. No one has ever rejected Heeseung before, nor do people ever dare to. Girls are always chasing after him, and boys are either jealous of him or intimidated by him. He’s never heard the word ‘no’ before, but hearing it now from your mouth was quite intriguing and somewhat entertaining.

“Not a single one.” He responded with a small smirk, his eyes flickering to your lips. He was now extremely close to you, the distance between you was only a couple inches away now. “No one’s ever rejected me before, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything, huh?” he teased.

"Just leave me alone, Heeseung," you mutter, slamming your locker shut and stalking away, your irritation evident.

He easily caught up to you and placed his hand on your shoulder, spinning you around to face him. “What? The great y/n is already giving up?” He leaned in closer. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight.” His grip on your shoulder tightened, but not enough to hurt you.

“I won’t ask again,” He began whispering in your ear, “Be my fake girlfriend for a semester, and I’ll never bother you again for the rest of our lives.” He was now pressed against you slightly, pinning you against the lockers and trapping you.

"What's in it for me?" you countered, locking eyes with him. "And don't say 'I'll never bother you for the rest of our lives.' That doesn't interest me."

A hint of amusement flashed in his eyes at your reply and he chuckled, “Always the smartass, aren’t you?” He leaned down, his breath fanning over your face, and he tilted your chin up so you were looking at him directly. “Name your terms then.”

You pretended to ponder, tapping your finger against your chin, and then declared, "A shiny new MacBook Pro would be pretty nice."

He raised his eyebrows in slight surprise, he didn’t expect you to ask for an item so quickly. He had thought you'd ask for money. “A MacBook?” he questioned before a small smirk spread across his face, “That’s all you want?”

"Oh, and a brand-new car would be great. A Tesla, maybe?"

A look of utter disbelief briefly crossed his face, “Are you just naming out expensive things in hopes that I’ll give in?”

"I mean, you're loaded, aren't you, Lee Heeseung?" you pointed out.

He had to admit you weren’t wrong. The Lee family was extremely wealthy—a huge estate worth millions with a large family business that brought in thousands a day, all passed down from generation to generation. “True. But don’t you think you’re aiming a bit too high here?”

You folded your arms across your chest and chimed in a sing-song tone, "Well, looks like you won't be getting a fake girlfriend after all~"

He let out a sigh, feeling slightly aggravated. Part of him had to admit, he liked your stubbornness. It didn’t come as a surprise though, you had always been the one person who wasn’t afraid of him. He had to take you seriously now though. “Okay. I’ll buy you a new MacBook pro and a Tesla. In return, you have to be my fake girlfriend for the whole semester. Deal?”

Your eyes widened, taken aback by his unexpected acceptance. "W-Wait, are you serious?"

“Does a deal mean I’m not serious?” he said, a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice. “Yes, I’m serious.” his intense gaze met yours once again, “It’s a yes or no you dumb fuck.”

"Deal!" you responded enthusiastically, extending an open hand towards him for a handshake.

He chuckled, finding your eagerness amusing. He took your outstretched hand and gave it a firm shake, sealing the deal with a smirk on his face. "Then it's official, you're now my fake girlfriend."

—

The following day, while at school, you received a text from Heeseung, asking to meet at the library after classes to discuss the details of this agreement. You readily agreed, tucking your phone away and making your way to class. Sure, enduring time with Heeseung, let alone pretending to love him would annoy the living fuck out of you, but hey, you were at least getting something out of the arrangement.

He was already in the library by the time you arrived, sitting in a secluded corner away from the rest of students. He glanced up as soon as you approached the table he was sitting at. "Sit." he commanded, gesturing to the chair across from him.

He leaned back in his chair, one arm resting on the back of the chair and the other on his knee. He studied you closely, taking in your every trait. “I have a few rules for this fake dating thing.” he finally spoke, his tone authoritative.

You let out an exaggerated eye roll and placed your arms on the table, leaning forward. "Do tell?”

“First rule: we have to do everything any real couple does in public. Holding hands, going on dates in public, the whole thing.” he spoke, his voice firm, “You’re my fake girlfriend now, so you can’t just sit there with that shitty look on your face when I’m around you. No one can suspect a thing. Understood?”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow and questioned pointedly, "I thought this fake girlfriend deal is just about appeasing your parents. Why do we have to act like we’re together outside of your house too? Won’t they think it’s odd we’re suddenly together? I’m pretty sure the whole school knows we hate each other by now.”

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.” Heeseung replied, shooting you an irritated look. “Parents who’re too stuck-up and obsessed with their reputation like mine love seeing couples acting affectionate. Plus, we need the whole school to start seeing us as a real couple, not just my parents. It’ll be more believable that way.”

You tilted your head in bewilderment and inquired, "And what are you going to say when people approach us, curious about our 'relationship'?"

“We’ll just tell them the truth. That we started talking to each other at some point and found out that we weren’t as different from each other as we'd thought.” he spoke with a nonchalant tone. “But of course, I’ll have to make up a story of how I confessed and how we got together, but other than that, it’s pretty much believable.”

You hesitantly continued, your gaze shifting to his fiddling hands and the pen. "And... what about things like kissing, pet names, and all those things... how are we going to handle those?" You spoke in a sheepish tone, a hint of excitement and nervousness evident in your voice.

He smirked slightly at your flustered expression and leaned back in his chair again, one arm placed back on the back of his chair. “I don’t care what kind of pet names you call me, but I don’t want you to call me my actual name. And for kissing…” he spoke quietly, “if I have to kiss you to make all this believable, so be it.”

You let out a sigh, mentally preparing to navigate the next three months with a fake boyfriend. This was going to be... interesting, to say the least.

“There’s one more rule.” he spoke, his gaze now flickering to yours again. “During the three months of this deal, you belong to me. Meaning: no dating, no relationships, no going on dates with someone else. You’re mine now, you got that?”

His words struck a chord within you, causing your heart to skip a beat. Yet, you quickly reminded yourself, *No, y/n, snap out of it. You despise him, and he feels the same about you*. You reluctantly agreed, albeit with a protesting groan, and sunk into the couch.

He suppressed a smug smirk upon seeing your reaction to his words. Despite your protests and eye-rolls, he could see the way you tensed up when he spoke those words. He wasn’t an idiot, he could tell, the effect he had on you, whether you were willing to admit it or not.

—

You had just walked into the school building and instantly, you heard the whispers and murmurs among the students as you made your way to your locker. It was like time had slowed down and every eye in the hallway was on you.

“Is that y/n?” one boy whispered to his friend.

“Damn, she looks pretty today.”

“But why does it look like she’s in a bad mood?” another boy spoke quietly.

Meanwhile, Heeseung was leaning against the lockers at the end of the hall, flanked by his two best friends, Jake and Sunghoon. They were having a conversation when Sunghoon’s eyes suddenly fixated on you, as you walked towards your locker. He nudged Heeseung's arm with his elbow, pointing at you.

“Hey, look,” Sunghoon whispered. “Isn’t that y/n?”

Heeseung’s eyes flickered over to the direction Sunghoon was looking at and he nodded. “Yeah, it’s her. She looks pretty today, huh?” a small smirk spread across his face as he watched from afar.

“What are you guys looking at?” Jake spoke up, craning his neck to see what had grabbed Heeseung and Sunghoon’s attention.

Sunghoon tilted his head towards you. “Just our little y/n over there, trying to play it cool but she looks pretty annoyed.”

Jake let out a small chuckle. “She always looks annoyed these days.”

“I mean, can you blame her?” Sunghoon asked, “She always looks like she wants to murder someone.”

Jake chuckled and nodded. “Agreed. She’s just naturally bitchy, I guess.”

Heeseung, however, was still quietly watching you. His eyes never left your figure as you continued on to your locker and began to open it.

“She's hot though.” Jake commented. “I'd ask her out if it didn't seem like she'd tear my head off.”

Sunghoon laughed. “She's out of your league anyways, man.” he teased.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want,” he replied, jokingly punching Sunghoon’s arm. “I know she’s out of *both* our leagues.”

“Is there even any guy that she likes?” Sunghoon wondered aloud. “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen her hanging out with a guy.”

Heeseung's gaze flicked over to Sunghoon at the question, a small knowing smirk playing at his lips.

Jake looked over at Heeseung. “What about you?”

Heeseung’s smirk grew slightly at the question and he shrugged nonchalantly. “What about me?” he replied, his tone nonchalant.

Jake’s eyes widened a bit in surprise. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you like her.” he said in disbelief.

“I never said I did,” replied Heeseung, still maintaining his casual demeanor.

Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You didn’t deny it either though…” he pointed out, giving Heeseung a look.

“You know me better than that, don’t you?” Heeseung said, shooting Sunghoon a mocking look and rolling his eyes. “Yeah, sure, she’s got a nice body and she’s pretty, but she’s got the personality of a cactus. I’m not *that* masochistic.”

Sunghoon and Jake both chuckled at his response.

“Damn, man, that was a good one.” Sunghoon commented, lightly slapping Heeseung’s shoulder. “You’re right though, she’s probably not worth the headache.”

Heeseung pushed himself off of the locker he was leaning against and took a step forward, still keeping his eyes on you. “You know, there’s actually something I wanted to tell you two.” he spoke casually.

Sunghoon and Jake exchanged a curious glance before looking back at Heeseung. “What is it?” Sunghoon inquired.

Heeseung shifted his stance, his hands now in the pockets of his pants. “Well, I’ve been seeing y/n.” he replied, a small smirk dancing on his lips.

Jake’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, what?” he exclaimed, clearly not expecting that answer.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, let out a scoff of disbelief. “You’re joking, right? There’s no way you and her are a thing. She hates your guts!”

Heeseung chuckled at Sunghoon's reaction. “I’m dead serious, though.”

Jake still looked like he was processing the information. “But..how is that even possible? You guys have hated each other for three years now!”

“Things change, I guess…” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “We actually started talking a few weeks back and… well, started spending more time together. She’s not as bitchy as I thought she’d be.” he added, a smirk on his face.

Out of the blue, the question left Jake's lips, curiosity getting the better of him. "Have you guys... you know, fucked?"

Sunghoon burst out laughing and playfully slapped Jake on the back of the head. “Don’t ask him that, man!”

Heeseung rolled his eyes at Jake’s question, but a small smirk tugged at his lips nonetheless. “What, you want details?” he teased.

Jake’s expression turned sheepish. “No, no, I was just wondering.” he quickly retorted, his cheeks turning a hint of pink. “It’s just…I never thought something like that would actually happen between you two.”

“Yeah well, it did...” Heeseung replied, his smirk growing into a full-on grin. “And just wait until you see how different she is when it’s just the two of us.” he added, the hint of pride evident in his tone.

Heeseung fished out his phone from his pocket and typed a quick message to you, sending it off.

*‘Meet me in the janitor’s closet on the third floor during lunch. I need to talk to you.’*

As he put his phone back in his pocket, Sunghoon noticed the screen and raised an eyebrow. “Texting y/n?” he asked, with a mocking tone.

Heeseung rolled his eyes again. “You’re damn observant, aren’t you?” he retorted sarcastically. “Yeah, just asked her to meet me later during lunch.”

Jake, never one to back down from teasing his friend, proposed, "Why don't you bring her to eat with us? We want to get to know your 'girlfriend' better, at least that's what you're telling us... But let's be real, no one truly believes that you two are actually together." Sunghoon, equally skeptical as Jake, nodded in agreement.

Everyone was well aware of the animosity between the two popular students, Heeseung and y/n. Jake's and Sunghoon's doubts about their supposed relationship echoed what many others had assumed.

Heeseung rolled his eyes at both of their teasing comments. “Alright, alright, settle down.” he replied, a small smirk on his face. “I’ll ask her, but I can’t promise what her reaction will be.”

You responded firmly, steadfast in your refusal. "Absolutely not," you shook your head vehemently, your expression reflecting your firm rejection. "I'm already enduring the farce of pretending to like you, and there's no chance I'm subjecting myself to lunch with you, let alone two others who are practically copy and pastes of you!"

Heeseung let out an exaggerated sigh, feigning disappointment. “Aww, come on, you’re no fun.” he replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. “You’re gonna have to meet them eventually, so you may as well do it sooner rather than later.”

Heeseung watched as you began to protest and couldn’t help but smile to himself at your stubbornness. “Come on, it’s just lunch. I’m sure you can handle it.” he persuaded, taking a step closer to you.

You internally grappled with the idea. It's just three more months, you told yourself. Can I really endure him? With a reluctant sigh, you finally relented, "Fine, I suppose it won’t be too bad."

Heeseung hid a triumphant smirk as he heard you finally cave. “That’s my girl.” he teased, stepping forward again and gently lifting your chin with his index finger.

Your body involuntarily tensed up as the sound of his voice echoed in your mind. "That's my girl…" The phrase played on a loop, causing a ripple of unease to ripple through you as you trailed alongside Heeseung towards the table where his friends awaited.

Jake and Sunghoon, who were still sitting at the table, looked up as the two of you approached. Jake’s eyes widened with surprise as he actually saw you walking next to Heeseung, while Sunghoon simply raised an eyebrow skeptically, silently questioning if the sight was real.

Heeseung placed his hand on the small of your back as you approached the table, a smirk on his face. “y/n, meet Sunghoon and Jake. Sunghoon, Jake, y/n.” he said casually, pulling out a chair for you to sit.

Sunghoon and Jake could only stare up at you, still trying to process the fact that Heeseung’s supposed ‘girlfriend’ was actually here and sitting right in front of them. Jake’s mouth was hung open slightly and Sunghoon just silently studied your features.

Heeseung noticed the boys’ awestruck expressions and let out a low chuckle, pushing your chair in as you sat. “Boys, quit staring like that. You’re making her uncomfortable.” he teased, taking a seat next to you.

Heeseung's attempt at making it seem like he cared fell flat, met with your sharp retort. "It's alright, Heeseung," you bit back, irritation lacing your words. "Save your pity, I don't need it." The tension between you two was palpable, and it was undeniable to anyone observing the situation.

Heeseung let out a scoff at the sharpness in your tone, an annoyed smile on his face. He reached beneath the table and placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly, a silent warning for you to keep up the act.

Sunghoon and Jake noticed the subtle interaction between the two of you and exchanged a glance. Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed as he watched Heeseung’s hand rest on your thigh, while a smirk tugged at Jake’s lips.

“Are you sure this isn’t just some elaborate prank?” Sunghoon finally spoke up, his eyes still fixed on Heeseung’s hand on your thigh.

Heeseung chuckled in response, his hand squeezing your thigh once more in warning. “I can assure you, this is real.” he replied, his eyes challenging Sunghoon to question him further.

Jake’s smirk grew wider at Heeseung’s response and he leaned forward slightly. “But the real question is, how’d you manage to pull *her* of all people?” he asked, referring to you with a nod of his head.

"I'm not some toy you can toss around." Your words were sharp and biting, a steely edge to your voice as you fixed a defiant glare on Jake. "I have my own mind, my own thoughts and feelings. I'm not some plaything for you to manipulate."

Heeseung’s grip on your thigh tightened slightly in warning, but his smile never wavered. “Damn, you’re feisty. I like it.” he commented casually, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You internally seethed, feeling the weight of the situation settling upon you. Could you truly maintain this act for three months, with everyone watching? Yes, you'd harbored a secret crush on Heeseung before the whole fiasco with the vomiting video, and seeing him present a facade of affection towards you now only made you feel like gagging.

Sunghoon noticed the tension between the two of you yet again and chuckled quietly to himself, shaking his head. “I still don’t believe it.” he commented, the skepticism obvious in his tone.

Heeseung rolled his eyes in response to Sunghoon, his hand still resting on your thigh. “I already told you, it’s real. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.” he replied, his gaze challenging Sunghoon to dispute his words.

“Sit here y/n,” Heeseung said, a commanding gesture. Heeseung patted his lap and motioned for you to take a seat on it. Seemingly unfazed by the fact that it was in the middle of the school day and they had an audience in the form of his friends.

Your eyes widened slightly at his direct instruction, your mind racing with thoughts of how ridiculous the situation was. Did he really expect you to just sit on his lap like it was normal?

Sunghoon and Jake, on the other hand, watched eagerly, expecting you to refuse the demeaning act.

Heeseung’s smirk grew wider as he saw your eyes widen, a silent challenge in them as he patted his lap once more. “Come on, it’s not that difficult. Just sit like the good girl you are.” he urged casually, as if it was completely normal for someone like you to sit in his lap.

Jake and Sunghoon couldn’t hold back their laughter any longer and broke into a fit of chuckles. “Yeah, come on, good girl.” Jake mocked, clearly enjoying seeing you squirm under Heeseung’s command.

You reluctantly rose to your feet, shooting Jake a withering glare before complying. You perched yourself awkwardly on Heeseung's lap, your expression a mixture of resignation and annoyance, silently praying that this moment would pass quickly.

Heeseung, however, didn't miss the silent pleading in your eyes. As soon as you sat down, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer, his grip just a little tighter than was necessary.

Jake's chuckle turned into a genuine laugh as he saw the way Heeseung manhandled you into sitting on his lap. "Damn, she really is your good girl, huh?" he teased.

Heeseung shot Jake a warning glare, not appreciating his taunting tone. "Shut it." he replied, his voice stern. But a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he pulled you even closer, his hand resting on your hip.

Sunghoon, who had been quietly observant during the whole scene, rolled his eyes at Heeseung's display. "Possessive, much?" he muttered under his breath, but not quietly enough for you to miss the comment.

Heeseung's eyes narrowed at Sunghoon's snide remark, but he didn't respond. Instead, he slid his hand slightly higher up your thigh, his touch deliberate and possessive.

Before you could stand up, Heeseung's firm grip on your waist halted your movements. He issued a direct statement, "Let's skip class." Your eyes widened in disbelief, the words ringing in your ears. "Skip class?" you echoed, shocked at the audacity of his suggestion.

Heeseung just smirked in response, his demeanor unapologetic. "Yeah, skip class. I want to spend some time alone with my *girlfriend*." he retorted arrogantly, the word 'girlfriend' dripping with sarcasm.

Heeseung, surprised, suggested skipping class, and you admitted, "I've never done that before." The thought of ditching school alarmed you, as it was a departure from your usual disciplined routine.

Heeseung chuckled at your confession, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Never? Really?" he teased, his hand still resting on your thigh. "You're missing out, it's freeing. Come on, live a little."

With a sarcastic tone, you retorted, "And yet you act like a high school dropout," before reluctantly agreeing to skip class for the remainder of the day.

Heeseung rolled his eyes at your sarcastic remark but didn’t deny it. “Damn, you’re a smartass.” he chuckled, amused by your attitude. “I can’t wait to have you to myself for the rest of the day.”

He glanced over to Sunghoon and Jake, who were watching the interaction intently. "We're skipping the rest of the day. Don't try to stop us." he informed them, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jake smirked and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Damn, you’re really getting serious. Go have your alone time with her.” he jeered, clearly enjoying seeing Heeseung so possessive over you.

Sunghoon just rolled his eyes, but wisely didn't comment on the situation. He just observed silently, his eyes flickering between you and Heeseung, studying your every move.

Heeseung just chuckled in response to Jake’s comment before turning his attention back to you. "Let's go." he said, gently squeezing your thigh before patting it, signaling for you to stand up.

You reluctantly obeyed, standing up from his lap and silently vowing to stay as far away from him as possible. Heeseung rose from his seat, grabbing his bag in the process, and made his way over to you. Without warning, he slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side.

Jake and Sunghoon chuckled again at his possessive gesture, clearly enjoying the show. “You two lovebirds have fun.” Jake called out with a smirk.

Heeseung just rolled his eyes at Jake’s comment and led you towards the exit, his arm still firmly around your shoulders. As you both left the cafeteria, he pulled you a little closer and whispered in your ear, “Don’t you dare try to run off on me.”

You gritted your teeth at his warning but didn’t respond, knowing that it would only lead to more trouble. You allowed him to guide you out of the school building, your thoughts racing with a million different escape plans.

Once you both were outside, Heeseung turned to you, a smirk on his face. “Now, I have a proposal for you. We have several options for how to spend the rest of the day, but I’ll let you choose.”

He paused for a moment, studying you silently, before continuing. “We can go get some food, maybe do a little shopping, or…” he trailed off, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “We can do whatever you want. But on one condition.”

You raised an eyebrow, silently bracing yourself for whatever condition he was about to set. “What is it?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He chuckled at your cautious tone before stepping closer, his hand moving to rest on your hip. “All I want is your undivided attention. No trying to run away or ignoring me. You’ll have to stick with me for the rest of the day and do whatever I say.” he replied, his voice dripping with authority.

You agreed, albeit hesitantly, with a slow nod. "Alright, I suppose I can do that..." you murmured, before changing the subject. "Speaking of which, when are we supposed to meet your parents? This whole fake dating charade is meant to convince them that you're in a relationship, right?"

Heeseung chuckled and nodded at your question. "Yeah, you're right. We'll have to convince my parents at some point. But don’t worry, we have some time before that. They’re away on a business trip right now, so we don’t need to worry about them just yet."

Surprise washed over you at Heeseung's revelation. "Business trip?!" you exclaimed. "Then why are we going through the motions of being all lovey-dovey if your parents are out of town for business?"

Heeseung smirked at your outburst before answering your question. "Because, my dear fake girlfriend, it's better to start early." he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "We can’t just suddenly be all lovey-dovey once they come back. We need to make it believable."

Internalized frustration simmered within you as you emitted a sigh of resignation. "I just want to go home," you confessed, your weariness evident in your exhausted tone.

Heeseung chuckled, clearly amused by your predicament. "Ah-ah, no going home. You agreed to spend the rest of the day with me, remember?" he reminded you, his hand gripping your hip a little tighter.

A mumbled invitation escaped your lips, "You can come over, I suppose..." Though your words were delivered indifferently, a hint of reluctance crept into your tone.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow at the half-hearted invitation, a smirk plastered on his face. "Oh? You're actually letting me come over? I almost feel special." he teased, a hint of mockery in his voice.

He took a small step closer to you, his grip on your hip still firm. "But I get to decide what we do at your place, got it? No arguments, no complaints. You'll be a good girl and do as I say." he told you, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Heeseung’s smirk only grew wider as he saw the resignation etched on your face. He knew you didn’t want him anywhere near your home, but you didn’t have a choice. "Great, then it’s decided. We’re going to your place." he stated before grabbing your hand and pulling you along.

As you guys walked to your home, Heeseung occasionally glanced over at you. Your expression was a mixture of resignation and annoyance, and he couldn’t help but find it amusing. He found it hilariously ironic that the person he had always hated was now stuck with him for the rest of the day.

Once they arrived at your house, Heeseung immediately made himself at home. He kicked off his shoes and made his way to the living room, flopping down on the couch with a sense of entitlement. He patted the spot next to him, signaling for you to join him.

Annoyance flickered across your face as you observed his lackadaisical approach to removing his shoes. Irritated, you placed his shoes neatly by the entrance before proceeding to take off your own.

Heeseung had been watching you as you took off your shoes, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at your particularity. “Ever the neat freak, huh?” he teased, a smirk on his face.

He patted the spot next to him again, his smirk never faltering. “Come on, sit down. I don’t bite.” he quipped, clearly enjoying seeing you out of your comfort zone.

You hesitantly made your way towards the couch and sat down next to him, making sure to keep a respectable distance. Heeseung just chuckled at your attempt to maintain space and grabbed your arm, pulling you closer until you were flush against his side.

"Ah-ah, no escaping from me now." he teased, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, trapping you against him. He leaned back against the couch, clearly satisfied with your discomfort.

"Now, since we have a few hours to kill, I have a few ideas on how we can spend our time." he said, his hand idly stroking your shoulder.

Frustration crept into your voice as you snapped at him, your cheeks tinged with red. "Enough, already!" you exclaimed. "There's no one around; you don't need to keep up the act."

Heeseung just chuckled at your outburst, his smirk growing wider. "Ah, but where's the fun in that?" he taunted, his hand moving up to gently caress your cheek. "Besides, I like seeing you all flustered and uncomfortable."

He leaned closer, his breath fanning against your ear. "And who knows, maybe I just enjoy having you this close to me." he teased, his tone low and sultry.

His hand moved from your cheek to your hair, gently twirling a strand between his fingers. "You know, you're actually quite cute when you're all annoyed like this." he whispered, his voice laced with amusement.

He sat back against the couch, pulling you with him so you were practically laying on his chest. "But don't worry, we have the whole day to spend together. We'll have plenty of opportunities for me to drive you crazy."

Heeseung's hand continued to caress your hair, his touch strangely soothing. For a moment, he seemed almost gentle, his arrogance temporarily replaced by this unexpected tenderness.

But the moment was short-lived as his smirk returned, his voice dripping with arrogance again. "So, how about we watch a movie or something? I’m sure there's something on TV that'll keep us entertained for a bit."

He reached for the remote and flicked through the channels, eventually landing on a romantic comedy. He glanced down at you with a smirk. "King the land sounds good huh?."

As the movie played, Heeseung's hand never left your hair. He continued to absently toy with the strands, his attention half on the movie and half on teasing you.

Every now and then, he would drop a sarcastic comment about the movie, or make a snide remark about how the couple on screen reminded him of you and him. His touch remained light and almost comforting, a stark contrast to his usual obnoxious demeanor.

A mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of Heeseung's lips as he observed a scene playing out on the TV. "You know," he remarked, a hint of humor in his voice, "that actress kinda looks like you."

He glanced down at you, his hand still lazily caressing your hair. "Don’t worry, you're much cuter than her." he teased, a smirk still playing on his lips.

The situation was becoming unbearable. You reached your limit; you couldn't continue pretending to love him and enduring his touch. Frustration boiled over, and you abruptly stood up, your emotions taking control.

Heeseung's smirk faltered for a moment as you suddenly stood up. He hadn't expected such a sudden outburst from you. He leaned back on the couch, his head tilted to the side as he regarded you with intrigue.

The words erupted from you, a mix of anger and resignation. "I can't do this anymore!" you exclaimed, your hands clenching into tight fists as frustration surged through you. "The deal's off. It's over."

Heeseung's amused expression faded, replaced by a brief flicker of surprise. He had not expected you to concede so easily. He sat up on the couch, his eyes never leaving your face as he studied you silently.

Heeseung's surprise quickly turned into a smug grin, his arrogance fully returning. He stood up from the couch, casually making his way towards you. "Oh, come on now. You’re just giving up so easily? Where's the fight in you?”

Your true feelings finally burst forth, the pent-up emotions overflowing. "I just can't keep up this act anymore!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with frustration. "Spending the entire day pretending that I don't loathe every second of being around you... it's too much!"

Heeseung chuckled, his arms now crossed lazily across his chest as he leaned back on the couch. "Loathe every second, huh?" he remarked, his voice dripping with smugness. "I can't say I'm surprised, considering how much you've always hated me."

A sarcastic scoff escaped your lips as you crossed your arms, a defiant look in your eyes. "Please, enlighten me, Heeseung," you retorted, your voice laced with irritation. "Why do you think I despise you so deeply?"

Heeseung's smirk widened as he reveled in your irritation. He chuckled softly before responding, his voice dripping with nonchalance. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because I uploaded that embarrassing video of you puking your brains out at that frat party back in our freshman year."

"That's exactly what I want to know!" you shot back, your anger and hurt seething beneath the surface. "What made you humiliate me that day? What prompted you to upload that video for everyone to see?"

Heeseung shrugged, his expression unrepentant. "It was just a silly prank, that’s all." he replied nonchalantly. "I didn’t think you’d take it so personally."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, and you stepped back, creating a physical distance between you and him. "Wow," you said, shaking your head in disbelief. "You really are a heartless jerk."

Heeseung’s smirk didn’t waver, and he took a step closer to you. "Oh c’mon, it’s not like it was the end of the world." he taunted. "Besides, it was pretty funny to see you all green-faced and puking your guts out.

A firm demand left your lips as you gestured towards the front door. "Get out," you directed, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Heeseung’s smirk faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing at your firmness. He paused for a moment, his gaze locked on you, before a taunting smirk returned to his lips. "And what if I don’t want to?" he challenged, taking another step towards you.

“Then I'll call the cops and accuse you of harassing me!" Your eyes narrowed, your anger and determination evident.

Heeseung chuckled, his arms still crossed, not intimidated in the slightest. "And what makes you think anyone would believe you?" he countered, a hint of smugness in his voice.

Frustration and exhaustion consumed you, pushing you to the edge. "I'm done," you murmured, your voice filled with weariness as you retreated to your bedroom.

Heeseung's smirk faded as you retreated to your bedroom, leaving him standing alone in the living room. He watched the door close behind you, a flicker of something inexplicable crossing his face before he quickly masked it with his usual arrogance.

He stood there for a few moments, the silence deafening. He didn't know what to do next. He had expected you to cave in, to give him what he wanted. But he hadn't expected you to stand up to him, to outright kick him out. The look in your eyes had been different, more vulnerable, almost... hurt.

He gritted his teeth, his mind whirling with a mix of irritation and something else he couldn’t quite identify. He was not used to people not giving him what he wanted, and he hated that you had just stood up to him like that.

He considered knocking on your bedroom door, to go in there and confront you, to demand an explanation for your behavior. But something held him back. Maybe it was the memory of the hurt look in your eyes, or maybe it was his own ego refusing to stoop down to that level.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the inexplicable turmoil within him. He glanced around the living room for a moment, realizing that there wasn't anything else for him to do here. After a few moments of internal debate, he reluctantly made his way to the front door and let himself out.

—

The next few days were tense and awkward, as both of you avoided each other in the hallways and classes. The only interactions you had were brief glances filled with silent anger and resentment.

Heeseung's usual air of arrogance was even more pronounced, and he made no effort to hide his irritation whenever you happened to be in proximity to each other

Heeseung, leaning against a locker with a scowl on his face, is approached by Sunghoon and Jake as they walk up to him.

"Hey, what’s with the sour face?" Jake asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Heeseung just grumbled and rolled his eyes, clearly not in the mood to talk.

“Did you and y/n break up or something?” Sunghoon asked, looking at you talk to a couple of your friends from far away.

Heeseung’s scowl deepened as he watched you interacting with your friends.

"Yeah, something like that," he muttered, his tone laced with irritation.

Sunghoon and Jake exchanged surprised glances after hearing Heeseung's words. They hadn’t expected that.

"Wait, seriously? You and y/n?" Sunghoon questioned, sounding skeptical.

Heeseung's jaw tightened as he remembered the incident that had started all of this. It was that stupid party three years ago that had caused him to upload that stupid video, and now it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

"Yeah, we were supposed to be fake dating, but she just called it off."

Jake and Sunghoon looked surprised again, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Why did she call it off?" Jake inquired, curiosity piqued.

Heeseung grunted, his irritation resurfacing. "She said she couldn’t keep up the act any longer and that she despised me too much."

Sunghoon and Jake exchange surprised glances again.

"Damn," Sunghoon muttered. "I didn't know she hated you *that* much."

Jake chimed in, his tone serious. "I think you should apologize, dude," he stated bluntly. "What you did to her was messed up."

Heeseung rolled his eyes, his usual cockiness returning. "Why the hell would I apologize? She should be thanking me; her popularity skyrocketed after that whole puking incident blew up on social media."

"Are you kidding?" Jake retorted, his tone laced with disbelief. "You uploaded a video of her puking her guts out for the whole school to see, and you think she should thank you? Seriously?"

Heeseung shrugged nonchalantly, his expression unrepentant. "Hey, it’s not my fault if she can’t handle a little embarrassment. Besides, we were both drunk that night. She was drinking just as much as I was, if not more."

Sunghoon shook his head, disappointment evident in his eyes. "Man, you’ve really got some messed up ideas about what constitutes a ‘prank.’ You humiliated her, Heeseung. That’s not something you do to someone you care about, even if it’s fake dating. You need to apologize to her and make things right."

Heeseung let out an exasperated sigh, his irritation building. "First of all, I don’t care about her one bit. And second, why do I have to apologize when it was her own stupidity that got her into that situation in the first place? She’s the one who downed all those shots and ended up puking. Not my fault she can’t handle her alcohol.”

"Dude, that's completely irrelevant," Jake interjected, his voice firm. "It doesn’t matter how much she drank or how she ended up puking. What matters is that you deliberately chose to film her and upload it online, without her consent or knowledge, for hundreds of people to see. That’s a shitty thing to do, no matter how you spin it."

Heeseung let out another annoyed sigh as he looked at the disapproving faces of Sunghoon and Jake. He knew they were right, but he didn't want to admit it.

"Fine," he grumbled, his tone reluctant. "I’ll apologize. But I’m not going to enjoy it, and I’m not going to mean it."

Sunghoon and Jake nodded, but their expressions remained skeptical. They knew better than to get their hopes up.

"Good luck," Jake said, a slight hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Heeseung shot him a glare but didn’t respond. He grumbled under his breath and walked away, making his way towards where he knew you would be.

He found you with a small group of friends, chatting and laughing. You hadn’t noticed him approaching yet, and for a moment, he paused, watching you from a distance. There was something about the way you smiled and laughed that tugged at some unknown part of him, but he quickly shook it off, reminding himself that he didn’t care about you.

He took a deep breath, mustering up his usual arrogant facade, and took a step forward, making his presence known. He cleared his throat, catching your attention.

You and your friends turned to look at him, your expression immediately turning cold the moment you saw him. You tried to suppress the anger and hurt that bubbled up inside you every time you laid eyes on him.

Heeseung’s heart clenched at the look on your face, but he quickly masked it with his usual cocky smirk. He stepped forward, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Hey, can we talk,” he began, his tone nonchalant, betraying none of the conflict within him.

You and your friends exchanged wary glances. It was unusual for Heeseung to ask to talk to you, especially in front of an audience. You felt an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach, but you couldn’t deny your curiosity. You nodded, reluctantly stepping away from your friends to talk to him.

Once you were a few steps away from your friends, far enough for them not to overhear the conversation, Heeseung spoke again. His voice had a hint of strain in it, as if he was forcing himself to speak.

"I need to talk to you about something," he said, his tone serious for once.

There was no room for discussion as you made your stance clear. "If you think you can just waltz up and apologize, forget it," you stated firmly. "I don't want to hear it."

Heeseung’s expression faltered for a moment, momentarily taken aback by your firmness. He hadn’t expected you to be this adamant, but he quickly recovered and masked his surprise with his usual haughty demeanor.

"Oh really," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You’re just going to reject my apology without even hearing me out?"

Your eyes rolled in annoyance. "You've got thirty seconds. That's all you get," you conceded, reluctantly granting him a brief opportunity to speak.

Heeseung’s eyes widened slightly at your ultimatum. He didn’t expect you to give him a chance to speak, but he wasn’t going to waste it. He took a step closer to you, his face suddenly serious as he looked into your eyes.

Without warning, Heeseung reached forward and grabbed your face, his hands cupping your cheeks as he pressed his lips firmly against yours in a sudden, unexpected kiss.

Your eyes widened in surprise as he kissed you, the suddenness of his actions catching you off guard. Your body tensed involuntarily, the shock of the kiss coursing through your body. But as much as you despised him and his arrogance, your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat at the feel of his lips against yours.

A few students around them let out soft gasps and coos as they noticed the unexpected kiss. It was quite the sight to behold, especially considering the tension between the two of you that had been simmering for years.

Heeseung ignored the reactions of the people around them, his focus solely on you. When he finally pulled away, his eyes searched your face, trying to gauge your reaction.

You were still in shocked state and speechless, your mind still reeling from the unexpected kiss. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath, your gaze firmly fixed on his face.

"Heeseung," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "What the hell was that?"

Heeseung let out a sigh, his hands dropping from your cheeks. He took a step back, giving you some space.

"It was my way of apologizing," he replied, his voice low. His gaze flicked over your face, watching your expression carefully. "And my way of making you listen to me for more than 30 seconds."

Your brows furrowed, your shock quickly turning into irritation. "Is that your idea of an apology?" you questioned, your voice laced with disbelief. "Kissing me without any warning or consent?"

Heeseung noticed the slight flush on your cheeks and the way your breath hitched briefly during the kiss. Your reaction didn’t go unnoticed by him, and a hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You seemed to have enjoyed it, and you didn’t pull back,” he pointed out, a slight edge in his voice.

You blushed, feeling embarrassed that he had noticed your slight response to his unexpected kiss. You quickly composed yourself, trying to maintain a stern expression.

"That doesn’t matter," you retorted, your tone firm. "You can’t just kiss someone without their consent and call it an apology."

Heeseung watched as you tried to mask your reaction to the kiss, amused by your obvious effort. He took a step closer to you, his gaze locking onto yours.

"Oh really? Well then, should I give you another one?" he teased, his voice low and slightly seductive.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you found yourself unable to resist as you whispered a soft, almost reluctant, “Yes.”

A sly smirk tugged at Heeseung’s lips at your response, and he didn’t hesitate to step closer to you. His hands came up to cup your face again, his palms warm and firm against your skin.

Without another word, he leaned in and captured your lips in another kiss. Despite the initial surprise, your body responded instantly, and after a moment’s hesitation, you melted into the kiss, your lips moving against his in a surprising display of reluctant want.

“Ew-“ Jake and Sunghoon watched with a mix of shock and confusion as you abruptly ended the kiss as they appeared out of nowhere. "I thought you were supposed to apologize, not make out!" Jake exclaimed incredulously.

Heeseung pulled back, his expression a mixture of irritation and slight embarrassment at being caught by Jake and Sunghoon. He shot them a glare, annoyed at their interruption.

"We were in the middle of something," he retorted, his tone sharp.

Jake chuckled, a smirk on his face. "Yeah, we could see that," he commented, clearly amused by the situation.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, looked between you and Heeseung with a slight frown. "So, did he apologize or not?" he asked.

Heeseung let out an exasperated sigh, his irritation resurfacing. "I was trying to," he grumbled. "And then the situation got a bit... distracted."

Jake let out a snort of laughter as he glanced at you, your cheeks still tinged with color from the unexpected kiss.

Heeseung leaned down, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke in a low tone, ensuring his words were for your ears only.

"We’re not done yet," he murmured, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

Your face flushed with embarrassment as the new nickname slipped from your lips, a mix of surprise and reluctant endearment. "Stop it, Hee..." you protested, shoving him away gently.

Heeseung chuckled lowly at your reaction, his smirk only widening as he saw the blush on your cheeks. The nickname slipped out so naturally from your lips, and he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction.

"Nope, not a chance," he replied, his tone filled with amusement. "I like the sound of it. You’re stuck with it now."

—

Over the next few days, the school was abuzz with the talk of you and Heeseung's unexpected public display of affection. The kiss he had given you in front of everyone was the talk of the school, and his friends constantly teased him about it.

One evening, Heeseung couldn’t shake the feeling that you were avoiding him. After not seeing you in the halls after classes, he decided to look for you.

He searched the school and finally found you sitting by yourself in a secluded rooftop area, looking out into the darkening sky. Heeseung approached, footsteps soft against the gravel, and stood a few feet away from you.

"You’ve been avoiding me," he stated, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. He leaned against the fence, crossing his arms as he observed you from the corner of his eye.

You turned your head to look at him, your expression neutral. "So what if I have been?" you replied, your voice cool and even.

You turned your head to look at him, your expression neutral. "So what if I have been?" you replied, your voice cool and even.

Heeseung’s jaw tightened slightly at your nonchalant response. He hadn’t expected such an indifferent reaction from you, and it irritated him even more. He pushed off the fence and took a few steps towards you.

"Why are you avoiding me? Because of what I did?" he asked, his voice sharp. He was standing only a few feet away from you now, his eyes locked onto your face, trying to decipher your expression.

Frustration and hurt bubbled up within you, your voice tinged with pain. "After that kiss," you spoke, your words thick with emotion, "I actually believed that you might have feelings for me. But I see now that it's just another game to you, isn't it?"

Heeseung’s jaw tensed as you spoke, your raw emotional response catching him slightly off guard. He hadn’t expected you to believe that he had feelings for you, especially after all the years of animosity between you.

"It’s not a game," he managed to grind out, his voice laced with a hint of defensiveness.

He took a step closer to you, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "The kiss was genuine," he admitted, his gaze fixed on your face. "I didn’t do it just for fun or as part of some game."

He took another step closer, the gap between you now small. He reached out, his hand gently lifting your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

"It just happened," he said, his voice softer now. "I wasn’t planning on it, but I couldn’t help myself."

He studied your face, looking for any sign of your reaction. He was struggling to understand why he had acted so impulsively, why he'd wanted to kiss you so badly.

"You just... you looked so captivating in that moment," he mumbled, his voice low.

His hand was still under your chin, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. He realized how close he was to you now, his heart racing for some inexplicable reason.

"I just did it, without thinking," he murmured, his eyes intently fixed on yours. "And I don’t regret it."

Your voice trembled with vulnerability as you sought confirmation. "You don't...?” You whispered, desperate for reassurance, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Heeseung’s grip on your chin tightened slightly as he responded, his voice firm and unwavering.

"No," he said, his tone resolute. "I don’t regret it at all. It felt right."

He took another step closer, his body almost touching yours now. His eyes searched your face, his gaze intent.

"It felt right," he repeated, his voice softer now. His hand slowly slid from your chin down to your cheek, and he cupped your face gently, as if he was afraid you’d pull away.

Heeseung’s gaze held a hint of something—an emotion that you couldn’t quite place as he looked at you. He was still holding your face tenderly in his hand.

"Do you have plans tonight?" he asked, his voice soft. "I have some studying to do. Want to join me?"

A laugh threatened to slip from your lips at the surprising invitation. "You, studying? That's a first," you teased, your words filled with disbelief.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, a small smirk playing on his lips. He knew that he wasn’t exactly known for his diligent study habits, but he had some studying he needed to catch up on.

"Oh, shut up. I do study sometimes." he retorted, his tone light.

Heeseung's smirk widened as he picked up on your entendre, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He took a step closer, his body now nearly pressed against yours.

"Trust me, you'll enjoy this kind of studying," he murmured, his voice low.

With that, Heeseung leaned closer, his lips hovering only inches from yours. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and his pulse quickened.

He didn’t know what had gotten into him, but all he knew was that he wanted to be close to you, to feel your touch, to hear your voice. And right now, studying seemed like the perfect excuse to get what he wanted.

The nickname slipped from your lips once again, your voice tinted with unexpected familiarity. "Not right now, Hee," you echoed, the term of endearment rolling off your tongue almost effortlessly.

Heeseung's chest tightened at the sound of the nickname on your lips. It was just a slip up, a moment of weakness, but it sent a wave of something through him that he couldn’t explain.

He pushed closer, his body pressed against yours now. His hand moved from your face to your waist, holding you firmly against him.

"I think we should skip the studying," he murmured, his voice low. "I have something else in mind."

Heeseung pulled out his phone and typed something quickly into it before looking back up at you.

"Texted you my address," he said, his voice cool and casual. He took another step back before giving you a brief smirk. "Don’t be late."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart racing a little faster than before.

You stood there momentarily surprised, watching as Heeseung sauntered away. Your mind was still spinning from his sudden invitation, the unexpected nickname still lingering on your lips.

Without hesitating any longer, you fished out your phone from your pocket and saw the notification from Heeseung—his address. A part of you knew what he had in mind, and you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you at the thought.

As you rode the bus to Heeseung’s place, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. It still felt unreal, the fact that you were on your way to your sworn enemy's home with who knows what kind of intentions.

The butterflies in your stomach were becoming more prominent, and you took deep breaths to still your heart. It was only a study session, nothing more. At least, it’s what you told yourself.

After a few more minutes, the bus came to a stop and you stepped off, looking around to make sure you were in the right place. You spotted Heeseung’s apartment building up ahead, and quickened your steps.

As you approached the door to his unit, you hesitated for a split second before knocking. The seconds ticked by, your heart rate increasing with each passing moment. Finally, the door opened, revealing Heeseung in a casual hoodie and sweatpants.

His gaze was intense, his eyes roaming over your figure in a way that made you feel even more flustered. He stepped aside wordlessly to let you in, and you walked past him into the apartment.

The air felt thick with tension, and you couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement mixed with nerves as you stood in his space, wondering what the night would bring.

His gaze sharpened as he looked you up and down, his eyes lingering on your figure with an intensity that made your heart race.

“You're here,” he said as he closed the door behind you and locks it, the sound echoing in the silence of the mansion.

As soon as the door was locked, Heeseung turned to face you, his eyes dark with a fierce hunger. Without a word, he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to grab the back of your neck and pulled you in for a forceful kiss.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips to claim your mouth entirely. He walked you backwards until your back hit the wall, pinning you there with his body.

"Fucking yell y/n,” he muttered, hooking his fingers in your waistband, tearing your pants down roughly as he kicked them aside along with your shoes.

He stepped back briefly to take in your half-naked form, his chest heaving. He then reached up to remove his own hoodie, revealing his chiseled torso.

His heart was pounding in his chest, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. The sight of you standing there, nearly naked, drove him wild. He closes the distance again, his calloused hands running rough against your skin.

“Heeseung, I-“ His movements suddenly still as your words reach his ears.

His eyes met yours intensely, a mix of emotion crossing his features - desire, possessiveness, and something more tender he didn’t want to acknowledge.

"Shut up," he whispered against your ear, his breath hot and heavy "Just..."

He hooked his arms under your thighs and lifts you up against the wall, wrapping your legs around his waist. He stepped out of his sweatpants, kicking them aside, leaving him in just his boxers.

Heeseung then pinned you against the wall, his hips pressing against yours intimately. You could feel his hard member poking at your thigh. "Tell me to stop," he whispered against your neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin. "Say the words..." His hands trailed up your sides, his thumbs brushing against your breasts, making you let out a quiet gasp.

His breath catches at the sound of your desperate whimpers, feeling your nails digging into his back.

"Please..." you moaned, arching against him. "Heeseung... I can't..." His self-control is barely hanging by a thread as he listened to your pleading.

His control finally snapped at your pleading, and he captured your mouth in a brutal kiss, one hand tangling in your hair while the other slides between your legs. "Is this what you want?" he growled against your lips, touching you intimately through your underwear.

He broke away from your mouth just long enough to pull down your bra, exposing your breasts. His head dipped down, capturing one taut nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his hand continued its steady rhythm between your legs.

"Mmh, so good... Heeseung, please... more... " You gasped out, your head falling back against the wall as he sucked on your sensitive nipple, your hips bucking against his hand. "Inside... I need you inside..."

His chuckled is dark and husky as he hooked his fingers in your underwear, slowly dragging it down your legs. He kneeled down, spreading your thighs over his shoulders. "Lift up," he ordered, his breath hot against your most intimate area. “Wanna taste you princess..."

Heeseung pulled your hips closer, his tongue finding your center. He licked slowly, deliberately, savoring your sweet taste. "You're so wet for me..." he groaned, adding pressure, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud. "Tell me... tell me how much you want it..."

He looked up at you with hooded eyes, maintaining eye contact as he continued his teasing movements with his tongue "Tell me..." he says, his voice is low and commanding "Tell me how bad you need my cock..."

He pushed one finger inside you, then another "This what you want?"

"Please... Heeseung, yes... I need you... your cock..." You whimpered, your hips involuntarily pressing against his fingers "I'm so close... please..." You're completely lost in pleasure, no longer caring about anything but his touch "Touch me..."

He removed his fingers, standing up and quickly unbuckling his belt. "Shut up and spread your legs." He demanded, pulling out his hard, thick cock. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight."

He positioned himself between your spread thighs, rubbing his thick head against your soaked folds teasingly "Heeseung... Please… want you to fill me up!”

He growled at the sound of his name falling from your lips in desperation, finally thrusting inside you without warning.

He filled you completely, stretching you out as he buried himself inside you. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling your legs up against his chest as he pounded into you, hitting deep spots that made you scream and claw at his arms "Heeseung! To- to big!"

Shut up,” he hissed, his face a mask of concentration as he continued to pound into you, his hips slapping loudly against yours.

He wrapped his arms around your legs, pulling them over his shoulders, getting impossibly deeper as he continued to stretch you out.

He paused his thrusts, his face twisted in a cruel grin as he reached down and forced your mouth open.

"Take it." He spat into your mouth, the bitter taste of saliva mixing with his own saliva as he held your head in place, making sure you swallowed it. He groaned at the sight, brushing his fingers over your cheek. “Such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You nodded your head in response, bucking your hips up, but he doesn’t move. “You didn’t answer my question princess.”

“I-I’m a good girl for you..” you muttered embarrassingly as Heeseung chuckled at your flustered expression.

He wiped his thumb across your lips, smearing his saliva mixed with yours "Taste good? Now open your legs wider. I'm not done with you yet,” He let out a low groan, thrusting deeper and harder, his body slapping against yours with force "You feel that?"

"Hnnngh... f-fuck... it's so deep..." You whined, your voice strained and high-pitched as he hits your deepest spots with every thrust. Your legs shook from the intensity, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure and slight pain.

He smirked darkly at your whimpers, continuing to pound into you mercilessly "You're shaking already? I haven't even gotten started yet..." he teased, reaching up and pinches one of your nipples, twisting it slightly.

His free hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tightly as he continued to thrust into you. "You like it rough, don't you?" He hummed, his face inches from yours. His grip on your throat tightened, cutting off your air supply as he fucks you harder and deeper.

"Heeseung... mmph..!" you responded, too cock hungry to think straight. His hand tightened around your throat, cutting off most of your air as he continues to pound into you forcefully. "You're almost there, aren't you? Those pretty eyes are rolling back..." his voice dropped to a threatening whisper.

His free hand reached down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it viciously as he continues to choke you. He looks into your bulging eyes, enjoying the sight of you struggling to breathe. "Look at me while I strangle you. You so good under me y/n…”

"Look at me... yeah... that's it...” he groaned, rubbing your clit faster while maintaining his grip on your throat, making sure your orgasm builds quickly "Cum for me... let me feel you squeeze my cock..." He groaned, his voice both demanding and seductive.

Aghh... c-can't... breathe..." You managed to choke out between gasps, your vision starting to blur at the edges. His fingers on your clit were driving you crazy, pushing you closer and closer to the edge even as he cuts off your air supply. "Hnngh..."

Heeseung smirked at your breathless whimpers "Just give up... let go..." he said, his voice turning husky. "Cum all over my cock while I choke you... show me how much you want it..." His fingers sped up on your clit, putting more pressure.

His hand on your throat tightened even more, his fingers digging into your neck as he continued to rub your swollen, sensitive bud furiously. "You're getting close, aren't you?” he chuckled, your legs shaking as your nails dig into his back.

He finally relents, releasing his grip on your throat and letting you gasped for air as his other hand keeps rubbing your clit at a frantic pace. He leaned down to press his lips against yours, muffling your screams as he forced his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your cries of ecstasy.

Finally, he broke the kiss just in time to watch your face contort in pleasure as you hit your climax, his fingers still working your clit. "There we go... cum all over my cock like a good girl..." He praised deeply, continuing his thrusts as your inner walls clamped down on him.

Youd body shook uncontrollably as waves of pleasure washed over you, your eyes rolling back as you let out a silent scream. "Heeseung! Feels so good...!" You clawed at his back desperately, your nails digging deep into his skin as you rode out your intense orgasm.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers slowly pulling out of your hair and stroking your cheek tenderly as he continued to thrust in and out of you, drawing out your pleasure. "Shh, baby. You're gushing all over my lap. Look at me." He demanded softly.

You managed to open your eyes and look up at Heeseung, your face flushed and covered in sweat as you panted heavily, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Hee-seung..." You whispered his name, your voice hoarse from screaming.

After pulling out, he coated his fingers with your mixed fluids and brought them to your lips. "Taste how good you feel wrapped around my cock..." He commanded softly, but firmly.

"Take it all..." He maintained eye contact as you obeyed, slowly sliding his fingers into your mouth.

"Such a good girl..." He praised softly, watching as you dutifully cleaned his fingers. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss before pulling back. "So pretty..."

Heeseung studied your face closely, his expression unreadable. He was still coming down from the high of your encounter and was struggling to keep a poker face.

"Hey," he said finally, his voice low. "You're unusually quiet. Are you alright?"

You took in a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I'm fine," you replied, but you still found yourself unable to meet his gaze. The aftermath of what had just happened had caught up to you, and you were struggling to process all the emotions coursing through you. But you were not ready to deal with that just yet.

"Just tired," you mumbled, shifting to sit up to put your clothes on, your legs wobbly from earlier.

Heeseung watched as you attempted to stand on shaky legs, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "You sure you don't need a hand there, princess?" he teased, pushing himself off the wall and heading over to you.

He grabbed your shirt that lay discarded on the ground and knelt down in front of you. He gently lifted your arms and slipped the shirt over your head, his touch surprisingly gentle. His hands lingered on your hips as he helped you pull the fabric down over your body.

Heeseung's unexpected act of pulling you into a tight embrace caught you off guard. "What are you doing, Hee?" you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice.

He spoke softly, his head buried in the crook of your neck. "I realized I never gave you a proper apology," he murmured.

"I'm sorry, y/n." The genuineness in his voice was undeniable, his remorse palpable.

He pulled away slightly, his hands coming up to cup either side of your face. His eyes met yours and there was something different about his gaze, a vulnerability you'd never seen before. "I'm really sorry," he repeated, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks.

You were taken aback by the earnestness in his eyes, and for the first time, you felt as though he was laying himself bare before you.

"I..." You didn't know how to respond. You had never expected to hear anything like this from Heeseung, let alone this level of vulnerability. "I... I accept your apology," you mumbled softly, still processing everything.

Heeseung's shoulders seemed to drop in relief at your accepting his apology. His hands slid down from your face to rest on your waist, pulling you closer to him again.

"That's a start," he said, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. He leaned in, his forehead touching yours. "We've got a long way to go, you and I."

masterlist

💗tag list: @ayablogsblog @lprww @profoundruinsunknown @jakeswifez @sammie217 @xylatox @sirens-dreams @rayofsunshineeee @mitmit01 @beomluvrr @jaklvbub @zns-things @strayy-kidz @1013club @nodoubtily @fancypeacepersona @leov3rse @hazycottagedreams @jakessrealwife @doveblackboat @heebambilee @immelissaaa

[drowning-rabbit]

marked up: spencer reid x artist!reader (spencer and the team)

part two of a drawn-out lullaby, based on my artist headcanons here. but each can be read separately! requested by @bookishnerd1132

word count: 1k

summary: spencer arrives late to work on the return from the holidays, leading to an interesting conversation with the BAU. fluff, suggestive

the first thing the team had noticed was the energy shift when spencer walked into the bullpen two minutes late. this was an odd occurrence for the man who stuck to his routine conscientiously. he hated being late, and it had only happened once so far in his career with the BAU. derek morgan had worsened the blow that day by slapping spencer’s back and making a joke about a late night. spencer, of course, choked and flushed bright red. then, he shut down immediately and remained closed off from embarrassment for most of the day. his explanation of why he came in late would never suffice to derek, who was convinced his favorite pretty boy had found a late night escapade. by the end of the day, even penelope was asking if he had found a special friend. so after the first time, spencer set his alarm half an hour earlier to guarantee it would never happen again. and it hadn’t, until today.

the second thing they had noticed was that he did not seem bothered by his untimely arrival. the first time he was late, he glanced nervously at gideon’s office as if he was waiting for a scolding about a few measly minutes. they remembered words spilling from his lips as soon as he rushed through the door, apologies and explanations tangling together in a flurry as he flung his messenger back onto the back of his chair.

this morning, three days after the holiday, spencer strolled in late like it was his daily routine. he looked well-rested, unusually so. he was not plagued by the usual nervous energy that surrounded him. instead, he almost seemed giddy.

when he made it to his chair and set down a light yellow travel mug on his desk, derek morgan immediately invaded his area of the office.

“reid.” he said shortly, eyeing the other man with calculated suspicion.

“morgan?” spencer questioned, and derek was already profiling. clearly flushed cheeks, a slight glow to the skin. he was also sporting slightly unkempt hair - and peeking out behind the collar of his shirt was some kind of black ink.

“what’s going on with your neck?” he pointed to the back of spencer’s plaid button-up.

“my neck?” spencer instinctively brought his hand up to the back of his head, feeling around for a bug or a stray hair. there was nothing. when he realized what derek was talking about, he blanched completely.

spencer had woken up completely rested, although late, this morning after another night of your doodles on his back. the marker had indeed done its job in lulling him to sleep. in his rush to make it to the bullpen on time, he had forgotten to wash it off of his skin.

“what about my neck?” he squeaked out in a half attempt at feigning disinterest.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost, pretty boy. you must know what i’m talking about.” derek teased relentlessly. spencer decided to stall.

“actually, the lack of blood flow to the skin is a nervous system response called pallor and it can result from many things like anemia, poor nutrition, frostbite-“ derek placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, making him pause.

“the ink, genius. you got a back tattoo over the holiday?”

“no! i - well, yes. um… sure?” spencer choked out. he hadn't told the team about you yet. not that he didn't want to, it just never came up.

“oh, penelope, baby girl you have got to see this!” derek headed towards penelope’s office, practically skipping. it would have been hilarious if it wasn’t at his own expense. at the commotion, jj and elle headed over to his desk to participate.

"a back tattoo? i never would have thought you would go for that, reid," elle commented, leaning towards him slightly. he rolled his chair back, standing up suddenly.

"its not! tattoos are extremely painful and require extensive research and my skin is sensitive. its- my partner, okay? they’re.. an artist. its - i, this is highly unprofessional! i'm making coffee," spencer sputtered, turning on his heel.

"partner? you?" derek froze in place. him and penelope had arrived at the perfect time to see spencer raise his arms to comb through his hair in exasperation. as he did, his shirt rose slightly. at the bottom of his back lay an expanse of red marks, accompanied by a small cursive word.

penelope squealed loudly, causing spencer to drop his arms and scurry off to the break room.

she was practically bouncing on her heels. "his back said mine, derek!"

"is anyone going to mention he already has coffee?" jj added.

"and that is not his mug."

[mangostarjam]

kiss me at midnight — haikyuu, miya atsumu x f!reader, established relationship, reader is called "babe" and "baby", fluff, suggestive, 1.2k words

Your hand is in his face before you realize it.

"Mmrph!"

It's so fucking dark.

"'Tsumu?" you whisper, squinting at the shadowy lump next to you. Your boyfriend's familiar fingers wrap around your wrist. "What is it? What's happening?"

Miya Atsumu finally frees his face from your hand. You wince at the wet saliva rapidly drying on your fingers. "Babe," he huffs, "didja hafta shove me?"

"You're the one who did something weird," you shoot back quietly, though your half-asleep brain can't quite remember what that thing was. "Did you… lick my hand?"

"Do ya want me to?" Atsumu asks curiously, his large hand sliding up to your fingers. He drops your hand immediately, and even in the dim moonlight filtering into the bedroom you can see him make a face. "Eugh, why's your hand wet?"

Oh, god. Fondness blooms in your chest even as you blink yourself more awake.

You laugh. You can't help it. "You licked it! Why are you acting all surprised?"

"Oh," Atsumu props himself up on an elbow and flicks on his bedside lamp. You squint at the sudden light, shivering against the cool rush of air beneath the blankets as he shifts. "That's 'cause ya put your hand on my face! Jeez, babe, I know ya like touchin' me, but watch the goods."

"I hate you," you laugh. Atsumu grins down fondly at you, backlit by his lamp. Golden strands drift up in a messy tangle, his bed head somehow terrible even though you've only been asleep for — "'Tsumu, why are we awake right now? It's not even midnight!"

His grin grows sheepish. "It's New Year's Eve."

"So? We should be asleep!"

Your boyfriend's half lidded gaze sweeps over your form — you're wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts, nothing fancy, so there's no reason for him to be looking at you like that. He licks his lips. "Don't you wanna… ring in the new year?"

"No," you say, rolling your eyes. "What, are you planning on jacking off for the next —" you squint at the clock, "— forty minutes? I think your dick might get hand burn or something."

"Well, I was hopin' it'd be in somewhere wetter than my hand," Atsumu mumbles, flopping back into his pillow with a thump. He pulls the blankets back up over your shoulders and grins when you relent and snuggle close.

He's so warm and solid and he smells like your citrus body wash, which he swears he never touches except your bottle always ends up emptying way too fast. You slip your hand up beneath his shirt and smooth along the muscles of his back, smiling to yourself as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

"I thought you didn't care about new years," you mumble into his neck. "You were whining about your beauty sleep during dinner."

"I wasn't whining," Atsumu splutters. You snicker into his skin and then you kiss him, a featherlight brush against the pulse fluttering in his neck. His grip tightens on your hip. "I was bein' considerate! You had a long day at work, right? I thought ya might wanna have a quiet night. I was givin' you an out."

"What part of waking me up before midnight counts as 'considerate'?" you ask curiously.

"Well, if I made ya cum a few times, you'd be more relaxed and we can both rest easy," Atsumu says.

"And you didn't think of this before we fell asleep earlier?"

Atsumu sneaks his hand down and pinches your butt, grinning into your hair when you yelp and swat at him reflexively. "Sorry, nope," he says. You can feel him half hard against your thigh. "But I can make it up to you."

"I'm sure you could," you breathe, leaning up to kiss the smile off his face. "Is this why you offered to let us get 'beauty sleep' instead of meeting our friends at the shrine tonight?"

"Swear I wanted to let you rest," Atsumu murmurs between kisses. He licks into your mouth with a hum, catching your bottom lip between his teeth as he groans. "My girlfriend's just way too hot. Have you seen her smile? Makes me get butterflies."

"Flirt," you pull back with a grin. He brushes your hair away from your face as you yawn, jaw cracking with the force of it. "Sorry. That wasn't very sexy of me."

Atsumu laughs and kisses the tip of your nose. "You'll always be sexy to me. Want me to turn off the light?"

"Don't you like being able to see me when we fuck?"

Your boyfriend gasps. "Language!"

"Shut up," you laugh. "You're the one with the filthy mouth."

Atsumu just grins, lopsided and soft. He presses a kiss to your forehead. "You really are tired, aren'tcha? Let's go back to sleep. Sorry I woke ya up."

You open your mouth to protest — you can feel him hard against your thigh, and your insides are warm enough to generate some sparks if he just keeps kissing you — but a yawn interrupts you before you can get any words out. Atsumu snorts and reaches behind him to slap the lamp off.

"Sorry, 'Tsumu," you mumble. He tugs you into him, rolling onto his back so that you can rest your head on his chest, tucked into his side. "I can wake you up with a blowjob or something."

"Don't worry 'bout it, baby," Atsumu says quietly. His arm is heavy around your waist, and you feel his other hand shuffling beneath the blankets before he finds one of yours and clasps it above his heart. "I just wanna wake up next to you."

"Is that your only new year's resolution?" you ask sleepily. His heart beats a rhythm you feel in your bones, deep and sure. An anchor to keep you from drifting away.

Atsumu hums. "I wanna win Setter of the Year," he says. "And I wanna get Omi-Omi to give me a high five during a match."

"You should be more realistic. Kiyoomi-kun might spike a ball to the back of your head if you're not careful," you say. "You're definitely getting Setter of the Year, though. You're amazing."

Atsumu chuckles and squeezes your hand. "What about you, babe? Any resolutions?"

"I guess I want to drink more water," you muse, "or else Suna will keep sending me hydration memes."

"I can help ya with that," Atsumu says. Your voices are both low, creeping towards sleep. "Anything else?"

"Mm… not that I can think of. Do you have more?"

It's quiet for a bit. You think maybe he's fallen asleep, with the way his breathing is so even, but he squeezes your hand and his heartbeat thunks in his chest.

"I wanna keep wakin' up next to you," Atsumu says. "For the rest of our lives."

You stop breathing.

"I didn't get you a ring yet," he mumbles. "'Samu said I'd pick something stupid."

"Atsumu…"

He squeezes your hand again. "Think I'll make that one come true, too?"

You shift and he's loose, lets you move to prop yourself above him, keeps his hand carefully at your side in case you need help balancing. "Atsumu," you whisper.

"Is it time to kiss for midnight?"

His eyes are glimmering in the moonlight, deep warm pools you could sink into forever.

"Yeah," you say, barely glancing at the clock. "Yeah, I think you've got that one in the bag."

[prettygirl-gabi]

Count Down To Us

happy new years bitches!!

Thanks for the plot @chrisscoraline ily!

The energy in the room was electric. Music pumped through the speakers, people cheered, and the countdown to midnight was just minutes away. The whole UConn team had gathered at one of the team captain’s houses for New Year’s Eve, and it was packed to the brim with laughter, champagne flutes, and way too many people trying to show off their dance moves.

I stood by the snack table, popping a mini meatball into my mouth as I scanned the crowd for Paige. She’d been whisked away by some of her teammates for photos, leaving me stranded with nothing but a plate of appetizers and a desire to be wrapped in her arms before the clock struck twelve.

“Where is this girl?” I muttered to myself, balancing my plate on one hand while smoothing down the oversized sequined jersey dress I’d paired with glittery sneakers.

“Looking for Paige?” Azzi smirked as she appeared beside me, a bottle of sparkling cider in hand.

“Obviously,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “She’s the only reason I agreed to come to this zoo of a party.”

Azzi laughed. “She’s somewhere over there,” she said, pointing toward the living room where a crowd had gathered.

“Thanks,” I said, abandoning my plate and weaving through the throng of people.

The closer I got, the more chaotic it became. Someone bumped into me, almost spilling their drink, and I shot them a glare before continuing my trek. The countdown clock on the TV screen read 1:45, and my heart raced.

“C’mon, Paige,” I mumbled, craning my neck to spot her.

“Ma!” Her voice cut through the noise, and I turned just in time to see her towering figure trying to make her way toward me. Her blonde hair was slightly tousled, and her blue eyes sparkled as they locked onto mine. She looked ridiculously good in her fitted black turtleneck and gray slacks, but I didn’t have time to admire her.

“Paige!” I called back, waving my hands to catch her attention.

The clock hit 1:30, and she started pushing through the crowd faster, her long legs making it easier for her to maneuver than my much shorter frame.

“Hold up, mamas, I’m coming!” she shouted, laughing as she sidestepped another teammate trying to hug her.

“Move, Bueckers!” I yelled playfully, laughing as I tried to squeeze past a group of people who were oblivious to my urgency.

1:15.

I finally broke free from the crowd, and there she was, just a few feet away, looking down at me with the softest smile. “Hey, baby,” she said, her voice cutting through the chaos.

“Don’t ‘hey, baby’ me,” I said, grinning despite myself. “You almost made me miss my New Year’s kiss!”

She chuckled, reaching out to pull me closer by my waist. “Wouldn’t let that happen, ma,” she murmured, her lips already inching toward mine.

10.

The countdown started, and the room erupted into cheers.

“9!”

“You’re really cutting it close,” I teased, my hands resting against her chest.

“8!”

“Worth it,” she replied, her voice low.

“7!”

Her hands slid to my hips, her thumbs brushing the sequins of my dress.

“6!”

“Paige…”

“5!”

“I got you, mamas,” she whispered, her forehead resting against mine.

“4!”

I couldn’t help but smile, my heart racing in anticipation.

“3!”

Her blue eyes locked onto mine, and the world seemed to slow down.

“2!”

“I love you,” she said softly, her breath warm against my lips.

“1!”

And just like that, our lips met. The room erupted in cheers, but it all faded into the background as Paige kissed me with all the tenderness in the world. Her hands held me steady, grounding me in the moment as I melted against her.

When we finally pulled away, her smile was soft and adoring. “Happy New Year, ma,” she murmured, pressing another quick kiss to my lips.

“Happy New Year, P,” I replied, my cheeks warm as I grinned up at her.

She held me close, her arms wrapped protectively around me. “This year’s gonna be amazing, baby,” she said, her voice filled with promise.

“With you? Always,” I replied, resting my head against her chest as the party roared on around us.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[mumblesplash]

prologue…

2!!!

J hears the shot go off above her. Hears O-piece suck in her breath.

"Fuck," L says somewhere to J's right, somewhere in the washroom the three of them just cleared.

A gentle gurgling echoes in her ears. J, blindfolded in the Hold, could tell herself it was just the sound of temperamental plumbing. She doesn't.

The hem of her shirt is damp from the blood of one of Z's alternates, and her fingers still thrum with the memory of the blade that spilled it.

When the Boss holds onto J-piece, she's always given a blindfold. Today it's a metal mask locked onto the top half of her face. Her head bows under its weight, but at least the rest of her bonds are light this time. The bars that appeared around her have left her space to move a bit. Her hands are merely cuffed in front of her.

The Boss must be almost over that fuck-up from last month.

And the fuck-up currently happening is not her doing.

"I's gone off-script again?" O says, his tone sharp but unsurprised.

"He must've spotted something up front," L responds. Hearing her, J-prime can picture the exact crease in her brow—the way her lips purse as she switches into damage-control mode.

"He won't have sightlines into the club from up there," says O. "J counted four alternates on the dance floor and one behind the bar. No pairs yet, but it's only a matter of time."

If it were anyone else presuming to speak for her, J would hate it. Even though she hates drawing attention to herself when Held even more. It's the sort of thing I-prime does all the damn time, and justifies himself with "If you didn't want me to say something for you, you should have spoken up sooner."

It's O-piece talking, though. And it's L he's speaking to. So she's alright.

"Someone needs to cover the front," J-piece says. She keeps her voice low, casual. She's pretending they're back in the office, by the vent next to the water cooler. Her shackled hands pull a cigarette from one pocket and her matchbook from another.

"You guys go handle it—I'll be safe."

It's true. Nothing native to this dimension can touch her within the grip of the Hold.

J places the cigarette between her lips and and struggles for the light—

Then a pair of warm, wide hands close around her own.

"Allow me," O says.

J smiles. Relinquishes the matchbox. Hears the strike—feels the flame come in close. Breathes in warm toxicity and the sweetness of O's scent.

She looks up as she exhales, to keep the smoke from O's eyes.

"Thanks, bud," J says.

Another hand brushes J-piece's shoulder—a gentle warning—before cupping the side of her face. This hand is slim, with perfectly rounded nails and a pinky ring.

J doesn't need those details to know that hand belongs to L. Only L-piece touches her like that.

L plucks the cigarette from J's mouth. There's a sharp drag, a slow exhale. J parts her lips wordlessly, and L returns the cigarette.

"We'll handle the set up this time," L says. "See you soon."

"We should hurry," O adds. "Those alternates are gonna be on the move now that I's kicked the hornet's nest. I'd hate to lose this world, it's got a pretty good funk scene."

J starts to agree—

But the shattering of glass and the howl of rending metal swallows all further discussion.

"That's—" J says.

"S and Z," O sighs.

"We gotta run!" says L.

And so they do, and J is left alone and blind with her tiny roll of warmth—too slight to even be called a flame.

And she could easily drown in the unfairness of it all, were she not a fucking professional.

It's time to go to work.

The fabric of reality above J's head splits like cracking eyes. A knife falls from the space between the worlds and catches itself, hovering. Another knife follows the first. And another. And another—

alright here's the rundown. more detailed version coming soon probably. the things i do for you guys

(transcript of prologue below the cut)

It's a lavender sky this time, this world. A lavender sky deepening to aubergine over a city of neon and brass. It's beautiful in it's way, just like any other city on any other world.

I-prime hasn't bothered to learn its name.

He stands in the hotel window, watching the burnished streets below gleam with fading light. The rhythmic thrum beneath his feet signals the rousing of the club below. They're playing a song that I has never heard in his life, yet part of him remembers it all the same.

The blank-faced watch on his wrist chimes a single long tone. I-piece taps its face without taking his eyes off the path into the nightclub.

"Hello, T."

"You're not in position," T says through the speaker. Their voice betrays none of the frustration that I knows he must feel.

"I'm where I need to be," I-prime says.

"We talked about this—"

"Yes, you talked, that's what you do. I make decisions."

T-piece's response is cut off by further chimes from the watch. Short, long, short, short—then the voice of L comes through.

"There's no time," she says. "The Boss just Held onto J. It's on, it's now."

"As expected," says I.

With a snap of his fingers the air before him splits. I-prime reaches into the crack between two universes and retrieves his sniper rifle. He looks down its sights, out the window, down the gleaming street.

Someone approaches the door to the club. A tall, svelt man with a face that I-prime is so sick of seeing other people wear.

I wonder what this one's named, I-prime muses as he lines up the shot.

Izaak? Ignacius? Indigo?

As he pulls the trigger on himself from another life, I-prime knows it doesn't matter what this alternate is called.

He lost track of their names a long time ago.

[bloomblood]

pitfighter/'emo' arc vi x piltover scientist reader (soulmate au)

(IVE HAD THIS IDEA FOR SO LONG IMMA SPEW RANDOM NONSENSE BC IM ASS AT WRITING LMAO)

•basically, reader is from piltover and has studied love and soulmates her entire life. she looks for vi, the name engraved on her wrist because she was desperate for answers.

•reader is reffered to as 'she,' or, 'the girl,' it gets a little confusing. also sorry for ooc!

it seemed like a sick joke. yeah, there were letters-a name-carved into her skin since birth. she would stare at them on lonely nights, thinking, wondering.

maybe this person would love her, even after everything. every person lost, every mistake. after caitlyn.

maybe she had hope after all.

vi scoffs in the girl's face. this random girl, vi had seen her before, but she was looking specifically for vi. they were soulmates. yeah, soulmates-like that meant anything to vi. she could care less; the ache in her chest suggested otherwise.

"you- you're serious?" the girl asks. vi rolls her eyes. "i don't need a soulmate. i don't need you, piltie. i've been on my own, and it's gonna stay that way." vi's lips twitch up into a sly smile. both of them knew it was forced.

"so do yourself a favor, sweetheart." vi steps closer, towering over her. "run away and forget about me. let's pretend this never happened."

she crosses her arms. this woman-the one she wore the name of-just told her to leave?

"then leave. im waiting." she snaps, glaring at vi. "but just know, we'll end up in this situation one way or another. i've chased this-the answer to this for my entire life, and i almost have it." she says. vi stands there for a moment, brows furrowed. she was definately going to leave, but she seemed a little crazy. or determinded, to put into better words.

"answer to what?" is all vi asks her. "the reason for soulmates." she replies with an eyeroll. "there's a scientific and logical reasoning for everything. this should be no exception."

vi rolls her eyes. yeah, totally crazy.

"right, well...you have fun with that, sweetheart." vi says casually before turning around. she pauses. a wave of panic crashes through her stomach. she thought vi would stay, ask her what she was looking for specifically, anything. but no, she was going to leave?

"wait!" she calls out as soon as vi starts walking. "what?" vi snaps out. she didn't have time for this. after everything, she couldn't. with a wound as fresh as caitlyn and pain from everything, from jinx...

"y-you're just going to leave? no questions, no nothing?" she questions, voice quiet. "you don't even know anything about me!"

there's silence. uncomfortable silence. it surrounds them, engulfs them.

"you aren't curious? about...who i am?" her voice grew even smaller. vi shakes her head as if it would shake her thoughts off.

she was really curious. after fights, on lonely nights, after a couple drinks (more like a couple bottles, with vi), after a loss, she was curious. who was she tied to? why them? why her? how would things be different if she met them? what would change? it was only the surface of questions that had swirled in her mind.

"i don't need a little soulmate to fix everything. stay away from me. go find someone that isn't me." vi replies, voice almost barely audible. "we've met before." she blurts out. "in- in piltover. you and these other kids blew up a-"

"don't." vi cuts her off. that was the beginning of everything falling apart. "it's a part of this cycle!" the girl's voice raises. "two people are born with the other's name on their skin." she starts. "then, it goes to passing. a singular moment in time the two people see each other." there's a pause. "from there, it's meeting, which develops into a bond. whether it's lovers, enemies, friends-it's all the same." she rambles.

vi's silent for a moment. this girl was...interesting, to say the least. a piltover women and a fighter from the undercity. perfect match.

"we're complete opposites, sweetheart. we aren't meant to be." vi mumbles. "w-well humans are attracted to contrasts. it's what we learn to go to or stray from." she says softly. vi sighs. maybe, in a sense, they were alike. they're both stubborn. this girl was fragile, shy, stubborn. but vi is a fighter. she's strong and stubborn.

some people aren't meant to be. they aren't destined to succeed. others...it's in their blood-on their skin. just how in black letters, it read 'violet,' on her wrist.

(i'll write a part 2 if y'all like this lmk please!!! i'll take requests too if anyone wants any because i need to write more-)

[moody-alcoholic]

Kidnapped Part 2

Part 1 John Price X reader, established relationship.

CW: Dead dove don't eat, kidnapping, abuse, SA: touching & forced kiss (not rape), description of wounds, blood.

Happy new year 🎉. Brining the new year in with angst. 👏

______

When you open your eyes the light makes your head throb. You’re in what looks like an abandoned classroom, there’s a whiteboard on the wall to your left, a spot on the ceiling where a projector would be. The room is dark, only a small floor light by the door lights up the space. 

You try to move your arms and legs but you can’t, your fingers feel numb as you pull your arms. You try as hard as you can even trying to throw your body to the side to try and knock the chair over. 

Nothing, you’re stuck here. You don’t know what to do. You let a frustrated sob leave your throat. As you suck in breaths of air you feel a sharp pain in your side, you look down to see blood leaking down to your leg. It’s like you’ve been scratched or something, the wound is deep, they haven’t patched it up.

Maybe they’re hoping you’ll bleed to death. Maybe you will, your head is swimming and you feel faint. 

You don’t think John has any idea where you are or what is going on, he could be on the other end of the world for all you know. He doesn’t normally let you know where he’s going or how long for. You usually hear back from him a few days before he’s home giving you enough time to get the place ready to spend the next few days locked in each other's arms.

The people who took you, they broke into your house. John installed a pretty sophisticated security system with the help of Kyle. The alarm didn’t go off when they broke in. Maybe they disabled it. You had no idea how it worked, maybe that was a reason they got in. Your reluctance to really believe anything bad could happen. 

John’s not a criminal, he’s a soldier, he saves lives, you remind yourself.  Clearly he’s pissed someone off. 

The door to the room swings open making you jump and press your body further back into the chair. They’re wearing ski masks and you can’t see their faces or hair. They’re all men and at least one of them has darker skin, that's all you can tell. One of them walks over to you pressing some fabric into the wound on your side. It causes you to cry out in pain. 

Someone laughs, that makes you feel sick, tears roll down your face. 

“So this is his bitch yeah?” Someone says on the other side of the room where most people have gathered. You hear laughs again, you look down at the person tending to your wound. 

“Sorry ‘bout them, they can be proper cunts.” He says. It almost makes you laugh. You’re surprised he even cares let alone enough to feel sympathy for you. He finishes patching up your wound as another man walks in. 

He’s in charge, you can tell by the way his presence commands silence in the room. He walks up to you wrapping his hand round your neck forcing your head up. You can’t breath his hand cutting off your air as you squirm in the chair. He looks round your face while someone behind him talks.

You don’t listen to what they are saying. You start to see black spots in your vision as you fight for air. Your head throbs, just before you think you’re going to black out he lets your neck go. You slump forward panting into the chair, your lungs trying to suck in as much air as you can. Your lungs sting, you can hear voices calling and laughing. 

When you manage to regain yourself you look up at their leader. He’s pointing at you shouting something before turning.back to you. You look up at him, your eyes sore from crying. He pulls the bottom of his ski mask up, you can see the stubble on his chin. He presses his lips to yours, you clench your teeth together as he presses his tongue into your mouth. 

You fight him tipping your head back as far as it will go. You're whining in his mouth as his hand comes up and squeezes your breast. You squirm turning your head. He stops grabbing you and moves to hold your chin in place trying to push past your clenched teeth.

You don’t let him, fighting his grip pressing on your windpipe, choking you once again. Eventually he gives up letting your face go. You gather a ball of saliva in your mouth and spit it out on the floor by his feet. You see the anger in his eyes, he strides back towards you. 

His fist meets your cheeks your head is thrown to the right, there's a ringing in your ears, your vision is foggy. You hear loud pops, banging it makes your body shake. Smoke fills the room, you hear shouting and more bangs causing you to turn your head and close your eyes.  

You hear more pops the smell of metal fills your nose.

“Clear!”

Hands grab your shoulders. Your eyes are still closed as your body thrashes against whoever is holding you. 

“Hey! It’s okay. You’re okay.” 

You open your eyes. It’s John. Your husband, his eyes digging into yours. 

He’s here, he's holding your face in his hands, his forehead pressed against yours. You feel your restraints cut. You let out a sob falling into his chest. His arms wrap around you. 

“You’re okay. I’m here now, you’re okay.” It’s his voice, it's his arms. He pulls you tight against him. His vest presses into your chest as you sob over his shoulder. 

“Sir, we need to move.” You're not sure whose voice it is but he loosens his grip on you. There’s someone else hooking their arm under yours forcing you to lean against them. You’re too disoriented to focus on anything other than John. Your eyes are still stinging from the smoke. 

“Gaz, Ghost get her out here!” it’s john’s voice again as you’re dragged to the rooms exit. 

“Charges are set.” 

“Good, fall back with Gaz.” 

“I can stay-” 

“Negative.”

There’s silence in the room. You hear moaning, other voices for the first time. There are people hurt. Your head swims as you think about the guy who patched you up earlier

“Switch with Ghost.” It’s definitely your husband giving out the orders. You’ve only heard him use this tone once, maybe twice. 

“Sir-”

“That’s an order MacTavish!” His voice cutting through the pained moans in the air. You don’t even hear a response, just feel more arms on you as you’re half dragged, half carried out the room. Johnny and Kyle communicate with each other like they’ve done this a million times. 

You’re helped into a car spread over the back seats of a 4x4.

“The first aid kit’s in the back. It has thicker bandages.” Kyle says leaving you alone with Johnny as he peels the bandages back to look at the wound.

“S’ gonna need stitches lass. Did ya see how they did it?” He asks. You shake your head. “Alright, sit back, we'll get you patched up.”

Kyle comes back with a bigger first aid bag, he replaces the gauze from the wound, cleaning it with saline before wrapping it up in a new thicker bandage. 

“You’ve done this before?” You ask, your voice cracks, your throat raw..  

“Too many times to count.” He says smiling up at you. You lean back on the seats, your head swimming as you process what’s just happened. There’s more noises, things that you can only describe as explosions. They rock the car you’re laid up in hearing Kyle curse under his breath. 

“I got the front sit with her.” 

Your body is moved, you blink up feeling the car move too. Panic rises in you, are you leaving John behind? Before you can move to ask there are new voices, people rushing into the car. You’re turned from a laid position to lean against Johnny who pulls you up against him. Your legs pulled over someone's thighs. You cry out in pain, the wound on your side feeling like you’re being split open.  

“You’re okay.” You think it’s Johnny talking, your eyes fluttering closed as he talks.

“We need a hospital. It’s the London unless you want to go somewhere else?” You think it's Johnny talking, your ears ringing as you lose your grip on reality.

“wherever's nearest.” That’s John, the hand that’s been rubbing your thigh is his. He laces his fingers with yours looking down at you. You can see his thick lashes and deep blue eyes. 

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” He squeezes your hand. You smile at him, your vision going blurry. Pain throbs through your chest. 

“I love you.” You say. It's barely a whisper, you hope he can hear you. You close your eyes letting your body relax for what feels like the first time in hours. 

“No, no, c’mon!” 

You feel someone shake you, your eyes snap open for a few seconds a burst of energy pulses through you. You can see John, you can feel him trying to pull you into his arms.

“We're 10 minutes out.”

“C’mon love, you’re going to be okay. Look at me.” His hand cups your cheek. “You’re okay. I’m here.” 

You smile at him then everything goes black.

_____

[rootedinrevisions]

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.

[meidui]

my favourite fics of 2024!! ♡

❤️‍🩹 Therapy Works (if your therapist isn't a Hydra agent) by @16woodsequ

Tony accidentally stumbles onto the fact that Steve isn't holding things together quite as well as he makes it look. As awkward as it is at first, Tony's been there, and he finds himself reaching out to him.

But the more he tries to push past Steve's walls the more he realises just how deep his issues go. And they all seem to be pointing in one direction.

Should he really be surprised to find SHIELD is at the root of it?

🤖 Administrative Access Only by @frankthesnek

Ever since Tony had called him to the workshop and shown off his shiny new suit with all its pretty gold panels and fancy new features, Steve couldn't stop thinking about it. Being attracted to the Iron Man armor was nothing new to Steve. It was a fantasy he kept in his back pocket for when he was alone and horny and desperate to come. But he had never acted on it... until now.

🫧 Suds 'n Studs by @fohatic

Tony didn't mean to hire some super hot, young guy to take his clothes off for money -- honestly! He just wanted somebody to wash his cars! But accidents happen when you let your AI do the hiring for you, apparently. Now the recent divorcee has an awkward apology to make. He also has as an invitation to subscribe to Steve's OnlyFans. What he doesn't have is any clue what he should do in this situation.

💎 (step)daddy by @areiton

Howard's new trophy is floating in the water, his head tipped back, hair a dark gold floating in a halo around his peaceful face.

He’s wearing the tiniest scrap of fabric that could be considered a swimsuit, miles of muscle and smooth flesh and a closed eyed smile that’s surprisingly sweet.

He didn’t think that whatever whore Howard had wed could possibly be sweet, but he stares at the omega floating in his pool, and wonders if he’s wrong. 

👑 'cause you're my king and i'm your lionheart by @cinderellasfella

It’s not often that a king makes a personal visit for a single prisoner. As it is, Thor has enough burdens resting upon his shoulders, but this one… this one is a special case.

💍 the best laid plans by @cinderellasfella

In the post-battle lull, Tony catches both Steve and himself off guard with a very important question.

📸 Picture This by @stovetuna

“What if—” Steve doesn’t clear his throat this time. He swallows. And oh, Tony watches like it’s happening in slow motion, the tensing of tendons, the roll of Steve’s Adam's apple, the way his suprasternal notch collapses and fills as his esophagus works to, what, keep words down? Saliva? A moan? Steve blinks and the glassiness clears. The blush all but vanishes. “Never mind,” he mutters.

And that…that just won’t do.

Tony leans forward ever so slightly over the foot of the bed, further into Steve’s space by a fraction of an inch. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but Steve does. He stares at Tony from up near the headboard, a plaintive expression deep behind his eyes, a problem that Tony can’t help but want to fix.

“Would you like my help, Steve?”

***

Steve gets caught attempting to take his first-ever dick pics. It's a struggle, he explains, because it brings up a whole host of lingering body image issues. Tony, very gallantly and not at all because he is in love with Steve, offers to take the photos for him.

[Cue: "Careless Whisper."]

🛏️ Situation Normal: All Fucked Up by @kandisheek

Tony had a foolproof plan.

Step 1: Get Steve into bed with him. Step 2: ? Step 3: Live happily ever after.

Sure, it could use some work, but success was guaranteed. No one is more shocked than him when it doesn't work out quite like he planned.

[ultram0th]

December 24: Cody Christian

00 │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19 │ 20 │ 21 │ 22 │ 23 │ 24

Hunky actor Cody Christian wore a deep frown on his handsome face as he got dressed into his clothes for the photoshoot. The stud buttoned up his shirt, taking time to admire his form in the mirror.

He’d spent years working out religiously in the gym, making sure to build up his muscles to a decent proportional build. It had gained him loads of fans and even offered numerous roles. His pecs popped nicely, yet modestly. His biceps had a nice curve to them, illustrating that he could play the tough guy roles due to the strength they exuded. Lastly, he never neglected legs, ensuring that they matched the rest of his toned body perfectly.

And yet, the photographer of the shoot had had the nerve to suggest that Cody try to work out some more and gain some size when he’d shown up.

“I don’t need any more size,” the actor grumbled under his breath. He was already big enough, so he figured that the photographer had no idea what he was talking about. “He probably wants me to look like one of those roided freaks…”

The moment the words left Cody’s full lips, he began to feel a tingling sensation ripple throughout his body, making him break out into goosebumps. Before he could react, Cody gasped as he saw all of his body hair beginning to pull inwards.

The stud ran a disbelieving hand over his now smooth body, shocked that he felt as if he’d just freshly shaved all over. Cody was never really hirsute, but he wasn’t too into manscaping.

Cody didn’t have time to voice any of his confusion or even try to come up with an explanation before his whole body tensed up, all of his muscles starting to inflate to obscene proportions.

Cody’s calves inflated to the size of footballs, his thighs growing to such wide sizes that they pressed against each other, forcing him to widen his stance. His jeans tore to shreds, landing on the floor in a tattered mess at his feet. He blushed as his butt puffed out, resembling enormous beach balls that were attached to his lower back as they jutted out. The growth traveled upwards as his shoulders broadened to a wide degree. His traps inflated, swallowing up his neck. Arms that were previously toned and proportional were blown out of sync as his biceps rounded out, rivaling the size of bowling balls. His bigger arms rested on lats that flared out, forcing them to hand akimbo at his sides. Cody’s modest pecs ballooned outwards, blocking his view of anything below him. His nipples stretched out and puffed up, looking large and nubby from the huge growth. His shirt followed suit with his pants, leaving him in nothing but his stretched out underwear.

As a final touch, Cody’s stomach dropped as he watched his stomach begin to balloon out too, forming a large roid gut. It continued to bubble out, jutting far out in front of him, with his enormous muscletits resting on top of it. He couldn’t even see his cock and balls that were hidden beneath his rotund belly.

The tingling sensation ceased, and where a toned actor had been stranded a minute ago was an over muscled bodybuilder with a massive roid belly.

“Wh-what the fuck happened to me?!” Cody panicked, his voice sounding much deeper now than it used to. There was no scale around, but the inflated hunk estimated that he must’ve gained at least one-hundred pounds of pure muscle. He looked like a freak!

“Cody Christian to the set, please!” the photographer called out.

Thanks to his panic, it took Cody a little bit to realize that his inflated body had started to move on its own accord. Cody’s face was bright red as his walk resembled more of a waddle as he struggled to move around with such bulky muscles hindering his movements. His thighs kept rolling over each other, and his arms were stuck out at his sides, making him lumber about.

The stud huffed annoyedly when he tried to exit his dressing room, but his broad shoulders both banged against the doorjamb. He had to turn sideways and squeeze himself through the door, his big roid gut making it difficult to fit.

He waddled out onto the photoshoot set, his heart racing in his beefy chest.

The photographer was all smiles as he looked up at the bodybuilder Cody. “Perfect!” he beamed. “It looks like you took my suggestion to heart.” He raised the camera and started to take pictures of the massive muscleman.

On instinct, Cody began to run his hands over this smooth muscles seductively. He ran his hands over his huge roid belly before massaging his inflated pecs. He tried to stop himself, but it was impossible. The hunky actor paled as he realized that not only had his muscles and gut been inflated to incredible proportions, but he couldn’t even control it anymore.

Cody lifted both of his massive arms above his head, forming a double biceps poser. As he flex, he kept his handsome smirk on his face while his big belly jutted out in front of him with every pose and flex he made for the camera.

“You look like such a big, roid-abusing muscle freak,” the photographer laughed as he continued to take pictures of the new bodybuilder. “Maybe you should consider getting even bigger and bigger…"

-- -- --

[Video source: https://x.com/MusclegodMass1/status/1618698609159196673]

[azzifuddslover]

UNRAVEL - chapter three

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

tw: swearing, light self homophobia

themes: fluff, angst?

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i’m so sorry this chapter actually sucks ASS, kinda a filler to get to the next yk. i promise next chapter will be better i’m so excited to write it hehe 😛 anyway make sure to tell me how y’all like it, it honestly makes my whole day. enjoy 𝜗𝜚

FIVE MONTHS LATER

paige, who is now 17 years old, sinks into her cozy bed, the late afternoon light filtering through her window. she opens her phone, hitting the facetime app, heart racing as the familiar sound of the ring echoes throughout the silence of her room. only a moment later, azzi’s face appears, her hair tousled and a playful grin on her full lips.

“hey p,” azzi chirps, her eyes sparkling.

paige feels the underlying warmth spread in her chest. “hey az. how’d your day go?”

azzi shrugs her shoulders, glancing to her side. “i mean, it was alright. nothing too special happened.”

paige’s eyebrows pinch downwards, confusion settling in her expression. she knows azzi too well to know something happened— something worth mentioning.

“az, what happened?”

azzi is silent for a minute, taking the time to think back on the day she’s had. she bites the inside of her cheek, skin becoming tender and raw as she repeats this motion. “jayden… you remember him, right?”

paige rolls her eyes, “how could i forget,” she murmurs, annoyance laced in her tone.

the corners of azzi’s lips tip up, a smirk lurking on her face. “well, i ran into him today, at the movies. i was with my friend, and he wouldn’t stop bothering me.” azzi’s gaze drops to her bedroom floor, continuing, “when i finally told him to leave me alone, he called me a bitch, straight to my face.”

paige’s eyes widen, fury obvious on her features. her hands form fists, fingernails digging into her palms. “that fucking…” she trails off, not quite finding the word to describe him. nothing seems to capture the way she feels towards him at this very moment. “i’m so sorry, azzi. you shouldn’t have to put up with his shit. if he says anything else, please punch him in the face or i’ll do it myself.”

azzi chuckles, already feeling better now that she told her best friend. “oh really? what are you gonna do, fly down here and hunt him down?”

“if i was given the chance,” she smiles, although she is completely serious. she absolutely hates the thought of anyone being anything but nice to azzi— especially if being called names is involved. she desperately wishes she could’ve been there to defend azzi, to put jayden in his place.

“thank you, though. it’s nice knowing i have someone willing to defend me,” azzi says, voice low yet sincere.

“always,” paige says, meeting her eyes through the screen. god, she wants nothing more than to be with azzi right now— hug her tightly, soak up her warmth, press her lips to her soft skin.

the brunette leans against her bed, her curls framing her face. “i wish you were here,” she whispers.

“i wish i was there, too,” paige whispers back, scrunching her lips into a line.

a moment passes with the girls sitting in comfortable silence— paige shuts her eyes, tiredness slowly creeping in.

just as she’s about to let sleep overpower her, azzi speaks up, only loud enough for paige to hear. “what do you think we’d do if you were here, right now?”

paige bites her lip, opening her eyes to see half of the younger girl’s body in frame; she’s in tank top, no bra— paige’s cheeks redden at the sight. “i… don’t know, what would you wanna do?”

azzi shifts in her spot on her bed, “i would want to hug you first— obviously. hug you for hours, if i wished. i’d want to talk to you, in person, ‘cause it’s so different talking not being separated by a screen.”

paige nods, feeling the tension grow between them. “i agree, it is different. better.”

“right?” azzi says. “then i’d want to go to bed, watching a movie or something. not before we cuddle, of course— that’d be my favorite part.”

paige’s blush heightens, her face on fire at this point. she wants so badly for this to become reality; for her to be curled up next to azzi, feeling her body pressed up against hers. “mine too,” she mutters, hiding her face from azzi’s view.

paige begins to drift off, her exhaustion finally washing over her. azzi continues to stare at the blonde, admiration and longing coating her features.

minutes pass with azzi still watching her best friend, who’s sleeping peacefully with her lips slightly parted. azzi adjusts herself, making her position more cozy. a question suddenly forms in her head, deciding to speak up and wake paige.

“paige,” azzi shouts, causing stirs from the sleeping blonde. her eyes crinkle open, gazing down to her friend on the phone screen. “i have a question.”

“what’s up?” she replies, her voice is raspy and low.

“who was your first kiss with?”

paige’s eyes widen, as she is surprised azzi’s asking about anything related to her love life. red blossoms along her cheeks, since she automatically knows the answer, not needing to think about it.

“it was you,” she whispers, not meeting her eyes.

butterflies swirl in azzi’s stomach at her answer— one she did not expect. “that… that was your first kiss?” she asks, referring to their shared kiss all those months ago.

it’s unusual for them to bring up any slip up moments between them; they typically leave it alone, pretending it never happened in the first place.

“yeah,” she says, now embarrassed. “who was yours?”

azzi doesn’t hesitate, “it was you, too,” feeling sort of awkward.

paige scratches her head, unsure where this conversation is leading to. “i didn’t know that.”

“now you do,” she says, looking away.

silence stretches between them, heavy from the weight of the unspoken words. paige fidgets with her fingers, eyes wandering her room, as if searching for a distraction.

“i really didn’t think i was your first,” azzi finally speaks, her voice filled with something deeper, something indescribable.

“yeah, well.. it kinda just happened,” paige replies, pulse thumping. “guess we were caught up in the moment.”

azzi bites her lip, gaze flicking back to the blonde. “do you… regret it?”

paige lets a quiet sigh escape her lips, “no, az, i don’t.”

“me either,” the brunette agrees, “i’m glad it was you.”

paige’s breath hitches in her throat, not expecting those words to come out of her mouth. could azzi feel what she does? something more than friendship between them?

“me too,” paige says, “really glad.”

azzi doesn’t try to hide her smirk, pride bubbling around her. what she doesn’t tell paige, though, is just how glad she is that paige was her first. even more happy that azzi was hers. her mind constantly is taken back to the moment their lips connected— in a soft, meaningful kiss— causing her stomach to swirl with a deeper meaning, one she’s not ready to confront.

azzi’s eyelids slowly close, the world surrounding her being to fade until she’s fully asleep, with paige quietly sleeping on her phone, too.

paige sits on her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tries to stifle her sobs. the sound of muffled crying echoes softly in her room.

suddenly, her bedroom door creaks open, and her mother steps in with a worried expression on her face, deepening as she stares at paige’s red eyes.

“paige, honey? what’s wrong?” she asks gently, her heart sinking at the sight of her daughter being so upset.

paige glances up at her mother, shallowing hard as nerves erupt in her stomach. she absolutely despises being caught so vulnerable, yet the weight of her feelings is quickly becoming unbearable for her to handle alone.

“mom..” paige whispers, unsure how to approach this conversation. “i think i’m…” just as she’s about to say it, she bursts into more sobs, her heart feeling abnormally heavy in her chest.

amy rubs her hand along paige’s arm, trying her best to soothe her daughter— to calm her down, somehow. “what is it? you’re worrying me, paige.”

paige draws her eyebrows together, taking a deep breath, preparing herself to say the words aloud.

“i think i’m inlove with azzi.”

amy smiles lightly, not seemed to be surprised whatsoever. she continues to run her hand up paige’s arm.

“please don’t hate me,” she says so softly amy thinks she must’ve imagined it. “i swear i tried to change— tried to change how i feel, but i can’t help it.”

“baby,” her heart breaking even more, “i would never hate you over someone you love. love is complicated— it’s okay to feel this way.”

paige wipes her eyes, the tension in her chest slowly easing. “i’m so scared azzi doesn’t feel the same,” she mutters, fear running through her veins, “what if i ruin everything?”

“paige, love is scary, but honesty is important,” amy replies, “you won’t know until you talk with her about it. but i don’t think you should worry about it too much— i’ve seen the way azzi looks at you.”

paige’s head snaps up, confusion swirling in her eyes. “what are you talking about?”

amy tilts her head, her smile only growing. “oh paige,” she sighs, “i’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

with that, amy leans down and lays a quick, motherly kiss on her daughter’s forehead, before getting up and walking towards the bedroom door.

paige watches her leave, with her lips parted, confusion still evident. she tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, her mind continuing to race from their previous conversation. what did she mean, the way she looks at you? paige is positive azzi doesn’t like her like that— her being nothing more than a good friend. she’s never said or done anything— besides their one slip up moment— to make paige think otherwise.

yet the harsh reality of azzi not feeling the way paige does still hurts more than imaginable. she doesn’t know if she can continue to only be friends with her, when she wants nothing more than to break through the friendship walls, developing into something more.

exhausted from all her crying, paige allows her eyes to shut, her world fading away into complete darkness.

FLASHBACK FROM USA BASKETBALL

paige bounces the ball repeatedly on the floor, listening to only the rubber hitting the hardwood and her chattering teammates from across the room. she’s practicing alone— due to the fact azzi hasn’t arrived quite yet— trying to perfect her shooting form before today’s game begins. each bounce grounds her, while her mind continues to race with thoughts of the upcoming game. she adjusts her stance, focusing on her grip and the arc of her shots. the conversations between her USA basketball teammates begin to fade into a background hum as she loses herself in the rhythm of the ball.

with each swish of the net, she feels a rush of confidence, imagining the scoreboard increasing in their favor.

as she inhales a deep breath and lines up another shot, the gym door swings open, and azzi— her best friend— strolls in.

the curly brunette places her belongings in the locker room, before coming out and immediately walking over to where paige is practicing.

“hey p!” azzi smiles at the blonde, “you ready for today’s game?”

paige matches her grin, eyes crinkling, “always.”

paige bounces the basketball over to azzi, to which she lines up at the 3 point line, adjusting her stance and throws it up with her perfect form. of course, the ball swishes through, barely hitting the rim.

“do you ever miss?” paige notes, playfully rolling her eyes at how talented azzi truly is.

“never,” azzi jokes, letting out a small chuckle at paige’s comment.

azzi can’t even explain how much she enjoys paige’s presence— regardless of the fact they only met two months ago. from the moment paige had the courage to walk up to azzi at the first tryouts, there was an unspoken, unexpected connection between the two. azzi loved the way paige approached the game with passion and determination, always pushing her to be better. and even though paige was constantly trying to improve azzi’s game, she would never miss an opportunity to compliment her— telling her how well her shooting really is, how good of a defender she is. azzi wholeheartedly loves that about her.

the coach eventually orders the team to line up, stretch, and begin warming up in preparation for the game in only an hour. throughout the course of their warm ups, paige would occasionally steal glances at azzi, trying to make out the unfamiliar feelings she got whenever she would simply look at her.

the game soon arrived, and the energy in the gym shifted. the buzz of anticipation fills the air as the crowd settles into their spots. paige feels her heart race, not just from the excitement of the game, but also from her connection with azzi.

as the whistle blew, paige takes her position as point guard on the court, adrenaline coursing through her veins. she makes sure to keep an eye on her friend, who radiates with a silent but determined confidence. each basket or play azzi made, paige felt a mix of admiration and something deeper— something she couldn’t quite name.

the game progresses, each play heightening with intensity. paige’s focus was unwavering as she executes her plays— passing to her open teammates as well as shooting some of her own— but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was about more than just basketball for her. when her and azzi shared glances from across the court, quick but encouraging, it felt like they had some sort of secret language, one that strengthened their bond.

as the third quarter riles down, paige finds herself winding down, letting the pace of the game slow. her gaze naturally locks on the brunette in the corner, then back up at the time— 5 seconds remaining. she throws it over to azzi, who’s already positioned at the 3 point line. she lets the ball leave her hands at a picture perfect arc, swooshing through the net.

the crowd erupts in cheers as the buzzer goes off, indicating the end of the third quarter. the players make their way to the bench, paige automatically rushing for the spot next to azzi. she wraps one arm around her friend’s shoulders, leaning in close.

“that was fucking incredible,” she says, a smile lingering on her lips.

azzi can’t help but blush at her words and the sincerity behind them. she looks down, yet can’t stop the growing grin on her face. she leans into paige’s touch, moving her legs closer so they brush against the blonde’s.

the smile paige wears spreads wider, her eyes crinkling at their closeness.

the two girls don’t pull away until the fourth quarter begins, both running out onto the court, into their positions to finish off the game. the memory of azzi’s leg on hers replays in paige’s mind— she doesn’t quite understand how something so insignificant, so small could have such an affect on her, yet it does.

the USA basketball match eventually comes to a close, with the team winning by 30 points— azzi secured 20 of her own, while paige had a close 18. the girls share rushed hugs before getting their belongings and walking back to the locker room. the exhilaration of the win buzzes off the team, soaking up the high.

once each player reaches the locker room, paige packs up her bag, silent but pleased with her performance. azzi does the same, all with a little smile in her expression.

after stuffing her belongings in her backpack, azzi casually walks over to her friend, eyes locked on her frame.

“hey p,” azzi says, “wanna hangout later?”

paige looks up at the brunette, who’s hair is slightly messy from the game but in a way she adores. “obviously,” she replies, like it was the stupidest question in the world. “what time you thinking?”

azzi glances around, thinking quietly to herself. “uh, maybe like 8? whenever you want.”

“that works with me,” paige answers, nodding her head.

the two girls walk out of the locker room, side by side, excitement radiating off them for them being together later. they’ve hung out almost everyday of the whole USA basketball season— ever since their meet back at the first tryout day— getting to know each other, finding themselves enjoying one another’s company more and more.

the night rolls around— 7:45, to be exact. paige changes into more comfortable clothing, a nike hoodie paired with sweatpants, along with her favorite slides she wears on the daily. her mother is already asleep quietly on the hotel bed, so she doesn’t worry about telling her she’s going to see azzi— not that she’d try to stop her.

she heads down to the hotel lobby, glancing around, looking for a familiar brunette. when she doesn’t see her, she pulls out her phone.

where u at? she hits send.

two minutes ago by with no response, only leaving paige more confused and wondering where she could be. she figures she’s still in her room, considering she did say 8, and she’s a little bit early—

those thoughts are cut off when a hand gently touches her back, fingers slightly gripping her hoodie.

“hey,” azzi smiles at paige, her dimples making an appearance. paige stares at her, in awe of her natural beauty.

“az,” paige whispers, trying to ignore how her heart races from azzi’s touch, “i was wondering where you were.”

the brunette laughs, eyes locked with paige’s blue ones. her hand lingers on paige’s back, the grip on her hoodie only deepening.

the two girls walk towards the hotel doors, where they’re met with a windy breeze of the night. when azzi figures her hand on paige’s back was too much, she lets go— but the blonde already misses her warm touch, so she throws her arm around her shoulders, pulling their bodies a little closer.

the cool of the evening air wraps around them, invigorating and fresh. unsure of where they’re walking to, azzi speaks up.

“where are we going?” azzi questions, turning her head to look at the girl, who’s only mere inches away.

“uh, i’m not sure,” paige trails off, “there’s a park near here. wanna go there?”

“sure, that’s fine.”

the pair continues their walk, not bothering to make conversation as they are comfortable in the silence. as they stroll through the softly lit streets, the quiet of the evening envelops them, punctuated only by the rustle of leaves. the park comes into view, which luckily has no one around.

azzi lets out a small sigh, feeling a sense of calming around her. she leaves paige’s arm that was once wrapped around her shoulders to walk over to the swing set.

she sits on an empty swing, glancing around at her surroundings— the dim light casting soft shadows across the ground. the air is crisp, and the faint smell of grass fills her lungs. azzi gently sways back and forth, her feet barely grazing the ground.

paige watches her for a moment, a smile creeping onto her face. she quickly joins her, taking the swing right next to her.

“what’s been your favorite part of this whole USA thing?” azzi suddenly asks, turning her head towards the blonde.

paige doesn’t need to think about her answer. “meeting you,” she whispers, eyes locking with azzi’s.

butterflies erupt in the younger girl’s stomach, her smile dropping as heat creeps up her neck. she didn’t expect paige to say something quite like that.

the silence between them lingers for a minute, before paige gets up, walking until she reaches a patch of empty grass.

azzi, confused, scrunches her eyebrows downward. she hesitantly stands, joining her friend. paige lies down on the grass— azzi soon joins her, their shoulders barely touching yet the little contact still sends shivers down her spine. they lay there, looking up at the vast night sky dotted with stars.

with the moon casting a light on azzi’s face, paige turns her head to face her, eyes solely focused on the girl beside her. her profile is illuminated by the moonlight, making her features pop. and in this moment, in this lighting, she figures she could stay here forever— right alongside azzi, her best friend, who has never looked prettier.

“it’s beautiful,” azzi whispers, her voice light as she takes in the scene.

“yeah, it really is,” paige replies, although her gaze is on azzi.

a comfortable silence suffocates them once again, but this time it feels charged. paige’s thoughts drift as she painfully tears her eyes off the girl besides her, looking back up at the sky. her heart flutters in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying, trying to navigate her feelings that’s making her question if she only views azzi as strictly a friend.

despite the burning tension, azzi reaches for the blonde’s hand, intertwining their fingers tightly.

“meeting you was my favorite, too,” azzi whispers so lightly, paige wonders if she actually said it. “everytime i’m with you, everything feels more alive. i feel more alive. i never knew i could feel that way.”

paige swears her heart stops in her chest in this moment— she forgets to breath as she’s so taken aback at azzi’s words. she squeezes the brunette’s hand, her thumb gently rubbing the knuckles. she looks over at azzi, her lips parted, still in shock.

she turns her body to lay on her side, fully facing the girl. her eyes never waver as she stares at azzi, holding her heart in her hands.

azzi matches her doing, shifting onto her side, facing the older girl as well. she rests her head on one hand, while the other is still clutching paige’s in a strong grip.

in this moment, in the darkness with the moonlight casting a light on the pair, paige realizes she’s inlove with her. inlove with the girl in front of her, her closest friend— azzi. every shared laugh, every whispered secret, every lingering glance floods her mind, reshaping their memories into something deeper, something she never had the courage to confront. the way azzi’s dimply smile brightens the night and the warmth of her presence feels like home, igniting a fire within paige that she can no longer ignore.

as she watches azzi, illuminated by the silvery glow, a rush of hope and fear intertwines in her chest, knowing deep down that this realization has the potential to change everything between them.

the air is thick with unspoken words, a tension that both excites and scares her senseless, leaving her suspended in a moment that feels like an ending, but also a beginning.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home p.20

Hii guyss, if you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist and if you missed part 19, here it is.

Your life in Monaco was idyllic, growing up alongside the Leclercs. But everything changes when you're forced to leave. Now, returning to the place you once called home, you're confronted with a dilemma: not one, but two Leclerc brothers vying for your heart. Old bonds and unresolved emotions collide-what will you do when the past and present merge in unexpected ways?

The morning after discovering the slashed tires on Charles's Ferrari was nothing short of chaotic. Charles had been frustrated but surprisingly calm, arranging for a tow truck while reassuring you that he’d get it handled. However, the day took another downward turn when Charles’s phone started buzzing nonstop. His number had been leaked online, and fans and strangers alike were bombarding him with messages and calls.

As if that weren’t enough, a rumor started circulating that Charles had been involved with another girl—completely fabricated but enough to draw unwarranted attention. The universe seemed determined to test both of you, but despite everything, Charles remained steady, his hand constantly finding yours whenever he saw you begin to spiral.

“Hey,” he said softly as you sat on the couch that evening, your knees tucked to your chest. He crouched in front of you, his green eyes searching yours. “We’ll get through this. Together. I promise.”

His voice, calm and reassuring, was a lifeline. You nodded, reaching out to cup his cheek. “I know. It’s just… a lot.”

“I know it is,” he said, pressing a kiss to your palm. “But no matter what happens, you’re not alone in this. Okay?”

You nodded again, this time with a small smile. Charles had a way of making the world feel a little less heavy, even when everything seemed to be falling apart.

After the day’s whirlwind of events—you both decided a change of scenery was exactly what you needed. When Pascale had invited you for dinner earlier in the week, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity to relax and reconnect with someone who always radiated warmth and positivity.

By the time that evening rolled around, things had calmed down somewhat, and you found yourself heading to Charles’s mom’s house for dinner. Pascale had been thrilled when Charles told her the two of you were together and had insisted on hosting you both.

The moment you walked through the door, Pascale enveloped you in a warm hug. “Oh, mon ange, I’m so happy for you two,” she said, her smile radiant.

“Thank you, Pascale,” you said, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

“I always knew,” she said, pulling back to look at you both. “Since you were kids, I could tell there was something special between you.”

Charles laughed, his arm sliding around your waist. “You’re just saying that now because you’re happy we’re together.”

“No, I mean it!” Pascale said, wagging a finger at him. “A mother knows these things.”

As the evening progressed, the three of you shared stories and laughed over old memories. Pascale had made your favorite dish, and the warmth of her home wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.

At one point, Pascale turned to you with a curious smile. “So, how has it been so far? Dating my son?”

Charles started to answer, but you noticed the way his lips parted and the slight tension in his jaw. He was about to bring up Arthur.

Quickly, you interrupted. “It’s been wonderful,” you said, giving Charles a pointed look before turning back to Pascale. “He’s so thoughtful and sweet. Honestly, I couldn’t be happier.”

Charles blinked at you but didn’t press, instead slipping his hand into yours under the table and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Pascale beamed. “I’m so glad to hear that. You deserve to be happy, both of you.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that, and the rest of the evening was filled with laughter and love. Before you left, Pascale insisted on taking a picture of the three of you, which she handed to you later, saying, “Post this one. The world should know how happy you two are.”

Back at Charles’s apartment later that night, you posted the photo Pascale had taken. In it, you stood between Charles and his mom, all three of you beaming. The caption read, Family dinners are the best ❤️.

It didn’t take long for the likes and comments to start flooding in, with fans gushing over how adorable the picture was. You set your phone down, smiling as Charles came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You think mom is already planning our wedding?” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“She wouldn’t be Pascale if she weren’t,” you joked back, leaning into him.

The moment felt perfect, a brief respite from the chaos of the past few days.

Unbeknownst to you, Arthur was staring at the same Instagram post in his room. His jaw tightened as he scrolled through the comments, many of them praising how happy you and Charles looked together.

“Family dinners,” he muttered under his breath, his grip on his phone tightening.

A flicker of jealousy burned in his chest, twisting into something darker. It wasn’t just about Charles stealing the girl he had feelings for—it was about Charles always winning, always coming out on top.

Setting his phone down, Arthur stared out the window, his mind racing. The possessiveness he felt wasn’t rational, and he knew it. But that didn’t stop the gnawing sense of injustice that Charles had taken something else that was supposed to be his.

For now, he stayed quiet, but the storm brewing in his mind was far from over.

Tag list: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @janeh22, @victoriaholland, @abq654, @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @anaferreira-4, @larastark3107, @itgirlofthecenturysposts, @boherahpsody, @iamkaku, @jz12, @boherahpsody, @urfavouritef1girly, @meglouise00, @charlesgirl16, @a-beaverhausen, @lol6sposts, @linnygirl09, @weekendlusting

[therandompagesblog]

Hunting Your Soul Chapter 3 🫀Y/N🫀

Trigger Warnings: Stalking, feelings of uncertainty.

A thud below causes me to wake up out of a restless sleep. It unnerved me to find someone had sent me a gift and I didn't know who they were or what they wanted. I sighed and rubbed my face when I heard the back door slam shut. I bolted up out of bed and went to the window to look at the garden. No one was there. My heart thumped in my chest as I felt a rude awakening. Someone was in my house. Someone who shouldn't be. It could have been my parents but they were not back yet. They were on their anniversary holiday so there was no one in the house. No pets. No fish. Nothing. Sighing. I got up from my bed and put on my slippers to head down the stairs. I turned the light on in the kitchen to look out of the window but I saw nothing. Stupidly, I opened the back door and stepped out into the cold breeze. This time the air felt normal. It was a bitter cold but it was nice. It was soothing considering what just happened until I saw a shadow on the grass. Someone was standing on the roof watching me. Slowly I turned around but they were gone in a heartbeat. "Come out," I asked. It was stupid of me to call out because nothing answered. "Please," I begged but nothing happened. I was frustrated now and was worked up over nothing. I got worked up over my Grandmother's sick fantasies. She was like a young adult obsessing over demonic creatures.

I did try to get back off to sleep but I found it difficult. It felt like someone was watching me sleep. Yet every time I woke up there was nothing in my room. It was like they were playing with me. Haunting me. Hunting me. I didn't even want to touch the books they got me. I didn't trust them. It felt like, if I touched them they would burn. I didn't want to be burnt. I even phoned my mother to see when she was due back but she reminded me for the seventh time not till the end of next week. My mother believed it could be my paranoia of living on my own that I was feeling worried so my mind was playing tricks on me. It was true I did feel that way. "Look. Duck. If you're feeling frightened you could always stay with your Dad's mum. She loves having you around." My mother told me. "I know Mum. I am probably being silly. But I swear the back door shut." I told her. I was stressing out about it massively as I poured myself a glass of water. "Did you lock the back door? You could have had a burglar." My father stressed in the background. I could hear my mother roll her eyes. "She doesn't go in the garden, Jim. The back door is probably still locked. It was probably the wind. We do live on the coast." My mother reminded him. "Look, Duck try not to worry it might have been your imagination. Try not to worry." "Yeah, I know Mum. If it happens again I'm moving in with Grandmother. Permanently." I told her. When I hung up I stared at the counter top wondering why I never told my mother about the package. I should have but my father would hit the roof. My mother would have ended her holiday to come back and see me. Maybe it was best to talk to my grandmother for her advice, but I swear to the lord above if she mentions some form of supernatural being stalking me I'm going to cry.

When I arrived and unlocked the door to my grandmother's house I saw her in her usual position. On the armchair with a werewolf book in her hand. A peach blanket wrapped around her as she read the words on the page. She was fixated. Too fixated to notice I was there. "Grandmother," I called out but she hummed in response. Waving me off. She knew someone was there and assumed it was me as I was the most common visitor. If it was a burglar she would still have the same response to them as me. Wave them off while she was engrossed in her book. I slowly walked up to her and placed my face in front of her. Earning a slap in the face from her book. "What is it you want?" She scolded me. "Someone was in my house last night," I told her. "Really? Why do you think, Duck?" I explained about the books that turned up the other day when I visited her. I confessed to her. My grandmother was surprised but listened as I explained someone was in my house. "Vampires!" Grandmother answered making me place my head in my hands. I knew it. I knew she would say it. I should have bet money on it. "Grandmother be serious for once in your beautiful life," I begged her. "He might be protecting you. From something darker. Or he's obsessed with you and wants your blood." Grandmother stated as she poked me. Her words sent shivers down my spine. I felt sick with her words. I felt cold. Her words were not in the slightest bit helpful to me. "Grandmother, do you read dark romance?" I looked at her smirk and cringed, "Grandmother that's-" "It's not disgusting. All women of all ages need a bit of hot sexy time in their life." She told me. "There's a word for it. It's called spice." I told her as I got up to make a cup of tea in the kitchen. I looked out her window to see the beach in front of her home. It was busy. Any one of those people who were facing this way could be the burglar or they weren't. I went outside into her garden and stopped. I closed my eyes and listened to my senses. I felt something musky come towards me. I felt its breath. When I opened my eyes it was gone. They were gone or so I thought.

18+ Taglist for those who are not turning back

@catlove83 @itsyourleilei @whatudowhennooneseesyou @leeknot @estella-novella @fackeraccount @eastjonowhere @cocofia143 @jennibahng @noerinspace @sleepingmissingprincess @ye0lkkot @hiitsmebbygrl16 @shhimhereforsmut @jaeminie-cricket @stayceebs97

[ohanny]

HOW WOULD ALL THE NEW YEAR’S KISSES HAPPEN IF TEAM X-HUNTER WERE TO THROW A VERY WESTERN NEW YEAR’S EVE CELEBRATION

first of all, the entire party would be north and sonic’s idea but as the de-facto host, alan would end up taking it way too seriously. i’m talking he spends a week drafting a reflective year-end speech and practicing it. jeff rolls his eyes and calls him old but actually thinks it's very sweet that alan cares so much.

he changes his mind when he sees the punch alan prepares for the party because dear gods. jeff is pretty sure he could get drunk on the smell alone because alan’s secret family recipe is 90% various local herbal spirits and 10% cola and the single decorative garnish of thai basil does nothing to make it any less of a health hazard.

jeff suspects alan’s family didn't love each other very much because you don’t force that devil juice on people you care about. alan does not think it’s that bad. sure, it's a bit strong but you can always add more cola if you want! shockingly, kim agrees. the two of them are the only ones who drink the stuff casually throughout the night. north spits his out and accuses his dear lung of trying to poison all of them. babe makes fun of north for this but actually sneakily dumps his glass into a planter. (the plant later dies. alan can't figure out why.)

then, it is near midnight and it is time for alan to give his speech, made even grander because he is quite sentimental and not totally immune to the powers of his own punch. in true x-hunter fashion, it's not exactly a solemn event with everyone jeering and laughing. it’s so noisy that alan gets a bit self-conscious a few times, but then he looks over at jeff who nods at him encouragingly. so alan is a bit cringe - who cares! he’s their cringe uncle and they love him.

but alan isn't quite sure how to wrap his speech up, so in a moment of clarity, he hands the microphone to pete who’s been skulking at the edges of the party with kenta. except, you know, alan doesn't actually have a microphone so he's just holding his fist in front of a visibly startled pete who begins with an eloquent “uh” and finishes with a “let's have a successful year.” it comes out more like a question, but everyone cheers nonetheless.

anygays, now to the juicy bit!

charlie has been a total menace, teasing babe the whole evening. he’s been especially handsy in the last hour but every time babe started to whine, he countered it with a “but we have to stay until midnight, i promised jeff!” now the time has finally come. the countdown ends and babe gives charlie a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing his arm and dragging him away. at 00.01, they are disrobing in the hallway, stumbling towards the nearest bathroom.

meanwhile, it is true jeff has relaxed and gotten used to both giving and receiving affection. still, he feels very awkward standing in the middle of an open space, surrounded by people who are looking at him with all these expectations and he doesn't know what to do. luckily, alan does.

alan looks jeff right in the eye and says “i want to spend next year by your side. and then every year after that, if you'll have me.” jeff flushes bright pink and alan kisses him slow and sweet and, like the romantic fool he is, totally dips jeff who meeps and scrambles to grab a hold of alan’s shoulders as people catcall them. after they straighten back up, jeff smacks alan chest, cursing him out for almost dropping him. alan responds “i’d never” and he’s so disgustingly sincere, jeff has to kiss him again.

once that is done, jeff tries to look for charlie to wish his brother happy new year, only to realize he’s disappeared. jeff is disappointed, but not surprised.

and talking about “brothers”… as the clock strikes midnight, pete and kenta share a moment of prolonged eye contact. eventually, kenta goes for a manly handshake. pete goes for a hug. they end up awkwardly bro-hug patting each other before stepping back and lowkey pretending that mess just didn't happen.

and talking about messes: north and sonic. they’ve had a grand old time clowning everyone else for being so sappy but then it’s time to kiss someone and they totally chicken out. sonic keeps glancing at north and blinking a lot. north laughs and rubs the back of his head. neither one of them can get their acts together because they are both losers.

kim has had enough and, with a huge eye roll, grabs sonic’s face and plants one on his lips before doing the same with north. “see? it's not that fucking difficult” he tells them and physically pushes them together. thoroughly freaked out by kim’s manic grin and squinted eyes, north gathers all his courage and leans in to give sonic a quick peck.

except. EXCEPT. you know when you give someone a quick kiss but then you don’t lean all the way back but linger? that's them. north lingers, lips tingling and heart going double time, and oh, have sonic’s hands been clutching the front of his hoodie this entire time? they don't know which one of them leans back in for the second try but it does happen and although it’s still very middle school PG, it is the greatest thing that has ever happened.

satisfied his job is done and he's saved the universe from collapsing under the weight of his friends’ pining, kim walks towards the corner. he squints at pete. pete stares back in confusion. then kim turns to kenta and, in a very businesslike manner, says “i will kiss you now.” kenta stands there like 🧍‍♂️and, in a very businesslike manner, replies: “k.”

kim then proceeds to kiss kenta in a very un-businesslike manner and pete’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline.

eventually kim staggers back and promptly declares “i’m going to throw up now.” kenta experiences a second of absolute mortification because fuck, was kissing him that bad? but really, the herbal spirits have finally caught up. kim takes three steps before turning around and asking “well, are you coming?” kenta looks at pete helplessly and pete just shrugs because wow.

but of course kenta goes with kim. they walk to the nearest bathroom, open the door and then immediately slam it shut again. kenta is feeling a bit sick now himself. he had no idea babe was so flexible and would have happily lived the rest of his life without the visual confirmation. they collectively decide to head for the upstairs bathroom on the total opposite end of the house, just in case.

the party kind of dies down after that. a giggling alan drags jeff upstairs. north and sonic have totally forgotten they are still standing in the middle of a room and there’s nothing middle school about their wandering hands. charlie and babe are doing irreversible damage to the bathroom sink. so pete just… slinks away.

he drives to the nearest bar where he finds way's ghost finishing up a bottle of tequila because he had no access to alan’s jungle juice. which is depressed and spiritually very wet and pathetic and pete is just so very tired. so fuck it.

“i know it's not midnight anymore,” he tells way and then totally quotes alan by adding “but i want to spend the next year by your side.” he leans down to press a very delicate kiss to the corner of way’s mouth before whispering “let me take you home.” way leans back against him, closes his eyes and says, “okay” and it’s a new year’s eve miracle.

bonus:

somewhere, in another bar, dean is hustling money by playing pool. winner slams the bar door open, stalks to dean in a full baddie mode and says, “happy new year, bitch” and proceeds to kiss dean with enough tongue that they get thrown out immediately. well, okay, the staff might have excused the tongue but then dean went and grabbed a fistful of winner’s hair and winner’s knees buckled as he moaned like a porn star and a line had to be drawn somewhere.

[doughyk]

ᡣ𐭩 RUN YOUR MOUTH ᡣ𐭩

012. Happy New Years

10:50 PM

"Iced Matcha with strawberry top" Matthew calls out an order. It's not long before the clock hits 12 and the year goes from 2024 to 2025.

"Jun, why in God's name do we close at 11? Who the hell wants butterfly pea lemonade at this time?" Hanni says while rolling her eyes.

"Well that person wanted something, and we close this late because we don't open until twelve. Don't you guys need hours?" renjun hummed.

Looking at the interaction made you giggle as Hanni always asks the question. Sion who is sitting next to you, takes your hand in his. "Looking around, Chenle seems to be the only one missing. You think he's gonna make it before twelve?"

your lips curl up due to the silly question. "No, he's never on time for work meetings or even his shifts" you lightly laugh.

Resting your head on his shoulder;sion looks down at you still holding your hand, he brings it up to his lips and lays a light kiss on it.

You quickly snap your head up and snatch your hand away due to the sudden contact. Though you knew you liked the boy, chenle still lingered in the back of your head. Your friend's words kept replaying in the back of your head. You shouldn't lead sion on, but you aren't. Are you? No of course not, you liked him. Just not as much as he liked you. What if he wants something more-

"I'm sorry if I scared you, but can we talk outside for a short moment?" Sion interrupts your thoughts. You nod your head at the brown-headed boy. Following the boy, you hear the front door open. Looking back, you see another boy. Chenle.

11:39 PM

Walking to the back of the cafe, where flowers are still bloomed. The moon shone down perfectly on sion as he looked up at the hole of light. Taking in the scene upon you, you felt at ease. The air, the moon, the temperature, and Sion were perfect. Your energy matched well with each other.

"I'm sorry if I scared you back there. I should've asked before I grabbed and kissed your hand. It just felt right in the moment. I won't do it again." Sion is now rambling due to his nerves

You take his hand in yours this time, smiling at him. Nonverbally communicating with him to reassure him. Turning his body back to you, forcing you to face his body; looking down at where your hands connect with each other. You felt warmth throughout your body.

11:41 PM

" You know when I first started to work here, I used to beg Renjun to schedule me with you. He told me that you enjoyed working with Chenle. It did bum me out if I'm being honest. I always admired how hard you worked even when it was a bad shift." he stops mid-sentence to take a breath. You couldn't help but smile as he complimented your customer service.

" When Renjun finally switched you to the morning shift, I was shocked because of what he told me before. But working with you every morning made me realize my feelings. I know we haven't hanged out much but Y/n I like you. More than a coworker and more than a friend. You don't have to give me a response right away" You watched as Sion walked back into the cafe like nothing happened.

You somehow felt winded from the sudden confession, taking a deep breath as you sat down on a bench that was covered with vines. You didn't know what to make of it, you knew he liked you so why are you shocked by it. Looking up at the moon for some answer but it never came. You sat alone with your thoughts.

7 minutes until New Year

Getting up to walk back into the "party", you turn around but instead are face to face with Chenle. Stunned to see the boy since the last time you talked was quite awkward. You both just stood there looking at each other not wanting to say a word. He looks down at his shoes as he walks by you to the bench that you were just sitting at. Following his footsteps, you sat by him but left a generous space between the two of you.

You fidget with your hands."I assume you want to tell me something"

Chenle clears his throat. "Look Y/n, I'm sorry that I rejected the cake you got for my birthday. I'm sorry I've been an asshole to you since you started to work here. I was never fond of you because you like to run your mouth-"

"Are you fucking serious? this is what you call an apology? I thought you were being sincere until that last part." you snap at the boy's rude remark

5 minutes until New Year

" No, listen I didn't mean it like that. It's just that you sometimes talk a lot and it annoys me that I don't speak to you because I figured if I don't talk to you, you would leave me alone." chenle rambles trying to fix his mistake but he makes it worse.

" Have you ever once thought how I felt being scheduled with you? Every day I tried to get you to like me, but it never work because your head is up your own ass constantly" Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes

2 minutes until New Year

"You need to hear me out, please. Im sorry for everything. I'm sorry for this right here but please just listen to me. Once I'm done talking you can say whatever you need to" chenle begs

you just looked at him but you already made your mind up.

"No" This caught chenle by surprise as he had never seen you stoned face before.

1 minute until New Year

Looking him dead in the eye, with no expression on your face besides anger "I'm tired of hearing your shitty apology. I'm sure you have a certain image of me in your head. But I am far from that. I tried and tried to be your friend but you always shut me down. Why? That's all I wanted. Just tell me why" Feeling hot on your face you take a deep breath

30 seconds until New Year

Chenle now looking at you, a small tear fell down his cheek. He takes in your beauty under the moon light. His thoughts are clashing in his head, he doesn't know what to say without saying how he truly feels. He wants to hold your hands like how Sion does, but he will never be Sion. His breath is picking up as he tries to hold everything.

10 seconds until New Year

You look at him with disgust visibly shown on your face. Scoffing at the boy, you start to walk away not wanting to continue the conversation. You heard his voice.

3 seconds until New Year

"I like you that's why" Chenle grabs your hand, forcing you to look back. Pleading in his eyes that you respond back and you do.

12:00 AM, Januray 1st 2025

You smile up at the boy.

"I'm dating Sion, cope with it"

Walking back into the cafe looking for Sion, leaving Chenle by himself. He huffs out and leaves through the back door.

Happy New Years to Zhong Chenle.

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩

𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 (𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗): @spacejip @iamsimplyasimp @nanahachi3 @dinonuguaegi @xxxnrigi @chenlesfavorite @peterm4rker @joyzluvr @winwintea @haefelt @mouldyeggsblog @yeosangiiess @ypoom151999 @luluvhs @livingdoll-hara @flaminghotyourmom @222low @slayhaechan @jeonghansshitester @josuk3lvr @meemememeem @kookssecret @beomgyusonlywife @gela0205 @usahanami

Authors note: HAPPY NEW YEARS WOOOOOP. I hope 2025 brings you nothing by joy and happiness!!! I was gonna post this later tonight but ik I won’t be in the right condition to do so!!

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Chapter 15

Chapter 14 Premium Story

Thank you @passthechloroform for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

The riot that happened the other day has faded into a phantom with the passage of time.

People are coming and going in the city as if nothing had happened, and today is peaceful and bustling.

I, too, blend into the city, my bag lighter than when I arrived, the scars gone.

(I guess that's the end of my errands for today.)

(Even so, from the biggest landowner in Tanzanite to the theater manager, to the owner of the best restaurant in the country...)

(The people who ask the owner for books are all important people who support Tanzanite's economy.)

(I'm glad I learned proper manners from my time as Belle.)

???: --I've done it.

(Huh...?)

I hear a voice carried on the hot desert wind and stop.

Looking down an alley, I see a woman with her face hidden by a veil, gathering scattered flowers from the ground.

(Did she drop them?)

Emma: Do you need any help?

When I call out to her, the woman's eyes widen under her thin veil, and then she smiles.

Woman: Thank you, kind young lady. May I take you up on your offer?

Emma: Of course.

The flowers scattered on the ground are the "Al flowers" I saw at the theater before.

The flowers, the color of water that moistens the dry desert, seem to cool the hot air just by looking at them.

Emma: Are you a flower seller, miss?

Woman: No, I'm a humble diviner.

Woman: These flowers are the flowers of the Living God, so I thought they might contain blessings and I'm giving them to people I know.

Woman: Please take some if you like.

After putting all the flowers back in the basket, the woman bundles a few of them and offers them to me.

Emma: Wow, thank you very much.

Woman: I'm the one who should be thanking you. I'm glad I met such a kind person like you.

Woman: There have been a series of terrible incidents lately, haven't there? I've become afraid of people...

(...I thought they had disappeared like a phantom...)

(But maybe there are many people who are actually anxious like her.)

What had become invisible due to the illusion of everyday life is now highlighted under the sunlight.

The woman's face was haggard.

Just hearing that she's a diviner, it's easy to imagine what's happening to her.

Woman: Please be careful, young lady. We will eventually lose the moon.

Woman: As prophesied, the end is near. This country will soon be over.

Emma: That's...

The woman smiles and disappears into the depths of the alley, carrying her flower basket.

As if to say she doesn't want to talk about the end at all.

(The talk of the end... Clavis didn't seem to know the details either, did he?)

(It's become vague, but maybe I can find out by looking it up in a book?)

-

That night - as usual, I was working hard in the back of the elegant temple to repay my debt.

I finely grind chickpeas and onions, then add parsley, pepper, salt, and spices, and mix them together.

After letting it sit for a while, I shape it with my hands and roll it into a pot of oil, and it's almost complete.

(Now all I have to do is fry it until the color changes, make the sauce...)

Azel: You're making something unusual today.

Emma: Whoa!?

Azel suddenly appeared and peered into the pot from behind me.

The close distance and his breath on my ear made my heart feel like it was going to burst out of my chest.

Azel: Why are you acting like I'm a ghost...?

Emma: Please don't talk right next to my ear.

Azel: Oh, I didn't know you were sensitive to sounds.

Emma: --ah

He purposely blows air on my ear, and a faint voice escapes me.

(He might have heard what I just said...)

I turn around and glare at him with shame, and Azel seems to be reflecting on his actions as he quickly raises both hands.

Azel: I'm sorry, so don't glare at me like that. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing.

(Why am I so nervous just because he got close to me?)

(...Is it because my body was surprised?)

Azel steps away from me and picks up the memo that was on the counter.

Azel: Did Kasim teach you this?

Emma: How did you know?

Azel: He's an acquaintance. I can tell by this messy handwriting.

Mr. Kasim is the manager and chef of the restaurant where I delivered the owner's book.

When I casually mentioned that I wanted to try making Tanzanite cuisine, he kindly wrote down a recipe for a fried dish that is commonly made in homes.

Azel: Why do you go this far?

Emma: Why...?

Azel: Honestly, with food, anything is fine as long as it's edible, right?

Emma: ...You're always so picky with your orders.

Azel: That's different. This is different.

Azel: You don't particularly enjoy cooking as a hobby, do you?

Azel: You could just make something simple... Isn't it a bother?

The recipe that Azel is holding up is indeed labor-intensive.

Cooking something I'm not used to takes time and effort, and I get more tired than usual.

(I've never really thought about it deeply, but...)

Emma: I thought you might miss the taste of your hometown if you only had Rhodolite cuisine.

Emma: I'm cooking to repay my debt and pay the rent, but...

Emma: If I'm going to cook anyway, I want you to enjoy it, right?

When I confess my true feelings, the recipe slips from Azel's hand.

(...)

(Huh... Do I actually like Azel quite a bit?)

At any rate, these are not things you should say to a God who has enslaved you with debt, and I become aware of my unconscious feelings only after putting them into words.

(No, I'm just attached to him, there's nothing shameful about it...)

*remembering Azel's previous remark*

Azel: Insulting me again... You're really good at creating debt, aren't you?

(...There's nothing...)

Remembering his soft, moon-like smile, I become strangely awkward for some reason.

(Why doesn't Azel say anything? What is this silence?)

His mysterious eyes, holding the starry sky, quietly look down at me.

His eyes are unusually serious, and yet somewhat displeased.

Azel: Is this some new kind of harassment?

Emma: How did you even come to that twisted interpretation!?

Azel: The sight of a good person makes me sick.

(Ugh... That actually hurts.)

Emma: ...Was I bothering you?

I don't understand what Azel is thinking, so I try looking down for now.

Suddenly, the God who had a scary face shows signs of agitation.

Azel: Ah, no, that's not it. It's a good mindset. Keep it up and offer me your cooking.

Azel: I can praise your thoughtfulness. In fact, I'll praise it highly.

Azel: But don't say anything that makes it difficult for me to take advantage of you from now on.

(So that's what it is...)

Azel: By the way, it's burning.

Emma: Ah!

I hurriedly look up and scoop the croquette out of the oil.

It's my first time seeing a Tanzanite-style croquette, but it's turned out cute with its round shape.

Emma: Look, it's pretty good for my first attempt--

Azel: So you were faking crying again?

Azel raises his eyebrows and pulls my cheek.

Emma: I'm sowwy.

(...I let it slip. I know Azel is surprisingly weak to tears, so I couldn't help it...)

(But I should avoid doing this often because it really worries him.)

Even with my cheek being lightly pulled, I arrange the croquettes on a plate.

As I move my body, my heart gradually calms down.

(Now, to make it look more vibrant...)

Azel: ...Why is that flower there?

He complains about the small vase I placed next to the plate.

The fresh Al flower should be a small oasis in the desert that soothes anyone who sees it, but only Azel, who has let go of my cheek, doesn't even try to hide his expression of disgust.

Emma: A diviner gave it to me today.

Emma: Looking at it like this, it has a Prince Azel-like quality and it's kind of endearing--

Emma: Why are you glaring at me again!?

Azel: I sensed a disrespectful presence.

(That's so unreasonable!)

Azel: I hate that flower.

Azel: It doesn't bring me any profit, yet it uses my name without permission.

Emma: I feel like you would thoroughly collect even if it was a deferred payment, Prince Azel.

Azel: There's no way I could do such a terrible thing to the common people, right?

(...Am I not one of the common people?)

While complaining, he doesn't seem to intend to deny what I'm doing, and the vase is not removed.

Azel: However, if diviners start handing out blessed flowers, it really is the end.

Azel: I don't know who that woman is, but she must be sensing the end is near.

Emma: ...You're right. The woman who gave me the flower was afraid of the "prophecy of the end."

Emma: Prince Azel... what exactly is the prophecy of the end left by the first Living God?

Azel: Find out yourself.

Emma: I wanted to look for books, but I couldn't find any bookstores at all.

In Rhodolite, I could find bookstores just by casually walking around the city.

However, there were no shops in the Tanzanite market that handled books at all.

I couldn't get any information even when I asked people, and in the end, I gave up on bookstores, but--

Azel: Why do you think that is?

Azel sits down on a chair, rests his cheek on his hand on the table, and places his hand on the book he'll probably read during his meal.

Azel: Why are there no bookstores in Tanzanite?

(So it wasn't just that I couldn't find them.)

I felt the air around Azel change.

Emma: Is it because... there aren't many people who can read?

Azel: That's one reason, but there's a more important reason.

Azel: What are people's thoughts made of?

(I wonder what it is.)

Emma: Experiences?

Azel: No. Think more directly.

(...The foundation of thought...)

Emma: Words...?

Azel: That's right. So, where do we get the words that form the basis of our thoughts?

Emma: From everyday conversations, the letters overflowing in the city, and books, I suppose?

Azel: Indeed. The more words people have, the more deeply they can think.

Azel: The reason you're more intelligent than other women is probably because you love books and know a lot of words.

(He casually complimented me.)

Azel: Conversely, if you don't know words, you can't even think.

Azel: Even if you have something in mind, if you can't verbalize it well, you can't be called human.

Emma: In that case, it would be better to have many bookstores, wouldn't it?

Azel: There are people who don't think so, which is why there are no bookstores in Tanzanite.

Emma: ...Why...?

Azel: Come on, think about it.

Azel raises the corners of his mouth as if enjoying the conversation itself.

(Without books, people can't think. But there are people who hate thinking.)

What suddenly crossed my mind was the riot the other day.

The hellish scene of believers and those with distrust towards God punching and cursing each other was hard to believe was the work of people with intellect.

(Clavis said it started with some fanatics.)

(Fanatics surely don't know the words to doubt God.)

(They blindly believe because they don't know the words, and they lash out before thinking.)

(And the one who led them was...)

Emma: ...It's inconvenient, isn't it?

Emma: The more you know words, the more you can think about faith in God from various perspectives.

Emma: If you want to maintain absolute control, the thinking that shows all paths might get in the way.

When I somehow managed to gather the scattered words and put them together, Azel clapped his hands as if to say "well done."

Azel: Of course, there are books in Tanzanite too. But most of them are related to mythology.

Azel: People's thoughts naturally become centered around God.

Azel: The people of Tanzanite haven't been allowed to do so for many years.

Azel: To become independent from God by gaining knowledge.

Emma: ...That's not what you want, is it, Prince Azel?

Azel: No, I'm actually inviting book merchants. Akatsuki and you are the leading examples.

Azel: There are bookstores too, though small. People have also become more knowledgeable than before.

Azel: But there are still those who don't like the idea of the people having knowledge.

Emma: ...The apostle, right?

(Because he's the kind of person who would ignore even your will, Azel, to protect the divine authority of God.)

Azel: To be precise, it's the "royal family."

Azel: The clan that descends from the first Living God believes without a doubt that protecting this mystery is their mission.

Azel: The control of thought might be a sin that the royal family of Tanzanite has held onto for a long time.

*flashback*

Silvio: The people of Tanzanite today can't live without God.

Silvio: They are kept alive by God, and have built their prosperity by God.

Silvio: If God doesn't want it...

Silvio: I wonder who created this current situation?

*back to present*

(I understand the answer to that question now... but...)

(It's strange that God and the royal family, who are supposed to be praising God, are so out of sync.)

(In Tanzanite, God is not an idol.)

(He's a living mystery right here, and he's showing a clear will.)

Azel: But sin is something that must eventually be atoned for.

Azel: They will pay the price eventually.

Emma: Is that... the "prophecy of the end"?

Azel: Who knows?

Azel shrugs his shoulders and casually reaches for the croquettes lined up on the table.

Azel: ...........Delicious.

He seems to have accidentally let it slip, and noticing my gaze, Azel looks away awkwardly.

Azel: ...If you want to know about the first Living God's prophecy, why don't you ask Enis?

Azel: He'll surely answer with a pale face. Unlike me, he's obedient.

Emma: Won't you tell me, Prince Azel?

Azel: It'll cost you.

Emma: Not that again...

Azel: This time it will be an exorbitant amount. Give up and go ask the king.

(If it were the usual Azel, I feel like he would tell me even if I was reluctant, since it's a chance to get money.)

(Is there some reason why it's hard to say?)

Azel reaches for the second croquette--

Emma: Stop snacking!

I grab his greedy hand from me, and I'm surprised by the thickness of his wrist, more than I imagined.

(...It's a man's hand.)

(No, I've held it before...)

(Was it this strong?)

Azel: To give orders to a God...

Emma: It's not an order, it's a request. The sauce isn't ready yet.

Azel: I don't need it.

Emma: I need it.

Azel: ..............

Emma: I won't give in even if you make a sulky face.

Azel: Stingy.

Emma: I'm fine with being stingy.

Emma: But if you like it that much, it was worth the effort I put into making it.

Azel: ..............Please stop saying things like that.

Azel grabs my hand back and pulls it away.

I feel my heart skip a beat again-- I look down, and the sound of knocking ton ton shakes the air.

Emma: Kamal?

Kamal is leaning against the door, which had been left open at some point.

She has a gentle expression, as if she has just seen something heartwarming.

Azel: ...Oh, that's right.

Azel: Kamal, let's talk outside.

Azel: I'll be right back.

Azel stands up and quickly leaves with Kamal.

When the two of them stand side by side, they look like a picture-perfect combination of a handsome man and a beautiful woman--

For some reason, I feel a twinge of pain in my chest.

-

Kamal: Oh my, you've become quite close to that child.

Kamal: At first, you were acting all indifferent, like "it has nothing to do with me."

Azel: Shut up. Just hand over the goods.

Kamal: Oh my, evil God. You shouldn't show that child such a scary face.

Laughing lightly, the bewitching beauty takes out a jet-black lump of iron from the large bag she's carrying.

The eyes of the God who received it were frozen.

Kamal: As you predicted, I confiscated it at the port this time.

Kamal: The world's calamity, the beast of ruin... It's really troublesome.

Azel: Yes. But what's truly troublesome is the hidden soldier that man sent.

Azel: I hope the guests from Rhodolite will take this bait.

.

.

.

Chapter 16

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