#LED Shower Filters

[dark-moonlust]

Getting Pounded by Nagas PART 3: Contractions

Pairing: Two nagas x human reader

Summary: You wake up feeling pains in your belly, getting ready for the egg birth. The doctor checks on you there is an issue… one that can be resolved only with your mates’ touch and seed.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, inaccurate pregnancy stuff (this is naga egg preg smut, let me have fun), naga smut, double 🍆🍆, double penetr, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

This is part of a series. Find all the parts here.

It was early in the morning when the contractions jolted you awake. The bedroom was still and dimly lit only the weak rays of the sun filtering through the curtains. You winced and disentangled yourself from between your mates, clutching your swollen belly and taking shallow breaths. The eggs shifted inside you, the pressure too much. Your groaned and the soft sound stirred your mates from their sleep. They woke with gasps of concern.

“What’s wrong, little one?” Ragnor asked, his fingers cradling your belly. You were 12 months along, so close to birth, your stomach round with the two eggs inside you.

“Contractions,” you breathed as another pain rolled through you.

At your words, both of your mates exchanged a look of worry. You were not supposed to have contractions. A Naga pregnancy didn’t have sudden contractions. It was completely different to a human pregnancy. The birth, too. It was the reason you’d arranged everything with the doctor and planned an induction of labor a week from now. But clearly, that plan would change.

“I can feel the eggs moving,” you muttered. “It’s starting to hurt.”

That’s was all you needed to say before your mates sprang into action.

Ragnor prepared everything you would need, packing you bags and a light meal. Meanwhile Thorne helped you take a shower and put on a soft, comfortable dress. In just twenty minutes, you found yourself lying at the padded chair in the Superhuman Maternity and Birthing Center. The room was bright and serene, the smell of disinfectant in the air. Your mates stood on each side of you, their tails wrapping around the chair.

Dr. Elise, a human woman in her fifties entered the private room, dressed in pristine white robes. She was a very kind and experienced doctor who monitored your superhuman pregnancy. Unlike you and your mates, Dr. Elise was calm upon hearing that you had contractions. She reminded you to keep taking deep breaths and trust in her ability to keep you safe.

“Good, very good,” the doctor said once you had calmed down a little. “Let’s take a look at you and the eggs. ”

The doctor used various advanced technological devises to scan your belly, take some blood samples and check the position of the eggs. You waited patiently as she analyzed your samples, winching only slightly when another contraction hit. Thorne and Ragnor stood at your sides, concealing their concern, each of them holding one of your hands tightly.

When Dr. Elise finally completed her calculations, she looked at you and your mates with a reassuring smile. “Everything appears perfect apart from the contractions. Naga pregnancies don’t cause traditional human contractions. That is because the eggs do not implant in the uterine wall like typical mammalian embryos. Instead, they remain free-floating within a specialized sac that develops to accommodate their growth. What you are experiencing now are false contractions.”

“Are my babies okay?” you asked her, tears pricking at your eyes.

Thorne kissed your sweaty forehead while Ragnor your lips. “We’re right here, love,” each of them murmured to you. “We won’t leave your side, relax for us.”

The doctor placed a strange cylindrical LED device over your vagina and ass, “I see that you’re not filled enough with your mates’ seed. It’s why you’re experiencing contractions and pain. We need to make sure you’re completely suffused in seed, and after that, it’s imminent that they be delivered. When was the last time you’ve had intimate relations with your mates?” The doctor asked you.

“Last night,” you answered in one breath.

“We fucked only once because she was sleepy,” Ragnor said, brows furrowing. “Wasn’t that enough?”

Dr. Elise shook her head. “Not in the least. The eggs consume the seed incredibly fast, especially at their current growth,” she explained. “You’ll need to fill your mate again, thoroughly and immediately.”

“Right now?” You asked, your voice pitching without meaning to.

“Yes,” Dr. Elise said. “I want you to be suffused with seed and after that I’ll induce the birth. We can’t risk waiting and risking both your health.”

“We’ll fill her. In both holes, just to be sure,” Ragnor said, his face completely serious.

Dr. Elise nodded. “Yes, and if you can give her seed through the mouth as well, that would be ideal.”

You flushed furiously as your mates and the doctor discussed the details, their faces dead-serious as if talking about filling your holes with seed was the most casual thing in the world.

Dr. Elise noticed your discomfort and smiled gently. “I want you to trust in me and my abilities to bring your babies to the world. Naga birth requires the assistance of the partners even more so in your case because you’re human.”

“Will it hurt as much as a human birth?” you asked, heart palpitating.

The doctor smiled. “No, it will be pleasurable and just mildly uncomfortable.”

You flushed at the word “pleasurable”. You’d discussed the birth plan a long time ago and you remembered the doctor telling you that your mates would need to make you climax during the birth for each egg to be delivered.

“Let me remind you how this will go,” Dr. Elise began, her voice calm. “Once you’re properly suffused with seed, I will give you a medicine that will induce the eggs to come out. Naga eggs have a tendency to like it in the womb and at some cases, they refuse to come out. The eggs will naturally leave your system, do not doubt that. I have specific instructions for that. Trust me, we will go through with it after you’ve been suffused with enough seed.”

“Thank you, doctor,” you said, your cheeks blushing a little.

“It’s my pleasure. Naga birth is completely different from that of a human so I want you to be as comfortable as possible and talk to me and your mates.”

“I understand,” you said. You trusted Dr. Elise and knew she was right. “Where can I and my mates… uhmm… do what we need to do?”

Dr. Elise stood up. “This room is reserved for your birth so you can stay here. I’ll step out to give you privacy and return roughly in two hours. Call me for whatever you need; I will be on standby.” The doctor headed to the door and glanced at your mates, “Remember, you need to fill her completely otherwise her health and the eggs will be at risk. I’ll come back to check, and if it’s not enough, you’ll have to keep going until the eggs have consumed enough seed.”

Once the doctor was out, you slumped back in the chair. “I can’t believe this. My health is dependent on your seed.”

“Lots of it”, Thorne added, looking smug.

“I’m going to be super cocky about that in the future,” Ragnor said, a smug grin on his face.

Two throaty chuckles made you look at your scaled mates. Horny bastards, they had already dragged off their shirts and their cocks had emerged from their protective slits, thick and massive, the cockheads glistening with arousal. You licked your lips and swallowed thickly. This was real. You were about to be fucked right there, in the examination room.

Ragnor wasted no time and slid up your dress, the only piece of clothing you wore. He left you completely naked on the chair, his hungry amber eyes devouring your form. Thorne was gazing at you just as intensely, both your nagas marveling at your swollen breasts, your round stomach and between your legs. You tried to close them, suddenly a little shy, but their tails wrapped around your ankles, keeping them spread wide for them.

“Will you trust us to fill your pretty little holes, little mate?” Thorne asked, his voice a whisper as he claimed your lips.

“Hnnn… fuck, yes,” you said, arching your back, offering yourself to them. The more they touched you, the more the contractions eased, pleasure taking over.

“Damn, what a pretty sight our mate is.”Ragnor lowered his head to your stomach, rubbed the swell, and spoke, "We’ll meet you soon, little ones. Stay safe and warm in there."

“Daddies will take care of mommy,” Thorne drawled, his mouth finding its way to one of your nipples, drawing it into his mouth. It leaked milk and with a groan he lapped it up.

Ragnor lavished attention on your other breast, his fingers teasing and rolling the tip that was beaded with milk. A whimper came tumbling from your lips then a drawn-out moan as they took turns worshipping your leaking breasts.

"Ahh— hnng... need your seed," you rasped, carding your fingers through their silky long hair.

"We need to prepare you mate,” Thorne said while kissing one lush rosy nipple and wetting the other with his tongue.

"I’m ready... ahh... I need your load."

Ragnor hummed. “Our mate is right. We need to fill her tight little holes. Hm?”

Thorne agreed, a smug grin playing on the lips.

Gently, you were lifted and placed onto Ragnor’s embrace. He carried you to the bed nearby and sat with you against his chest, your sensitive breasts leaking. His massive cock throbbed against your belly, slick with precum as you reached out and wrapped your hands around it. With sensual strokes, you pumped him up and down, the intimacy between you and your mates heightening.

You sensed Thorne presence behind you, his sinuous tail reaching for the bottle of lube in one of the drawers. You heard the slurp of lube then felt him take his place behind you, his cock wet against your back. With your free hand, you reached back to stroke his cock while his lubed fingers deftly parted your asscheeks, spread them wide, fingering your tight entrance and rubbing the swollen nub of your clit.

Thorne thrust a finger into your ass while stroking your clit with the other hand. Your thoughts turned into mush and you buckled your hips, the sensations electric. Another finger slid up your tight hole, the hand at your pussy moving with deliberate movements. You gasped and came with the most ridiculous moans, soaking wet and aching for more.

Sensing your need, your mates lifted you, their cocks poised beneath each quivering hole. Ragnor’s double cocks parted the folds of your pussy, his massive veined dicks thrusting upwards. Thorn’s shafts pressed insistently against the tight bud of your asshole. They guided you down until you were doubly impaled by their dicks.

Breath hitching, you squeezed your eyes shut.

You saw stars.

Pleasure and bliss.

They began their rhythmic thrusts and you whimpered, clutching onto their shoulders for dear life as they bounced you up and down on their naga dicks. Your body hummed with pleasure, the contractions barely catching your attention. Your nipples were hard and leaking, your holes clenching and unchecking around the invasions.

Your mates kissed your lips, your neck, your sensitive nipples. Their fingers roamed protectively over your belly, teasing and claiming you as you rode higher and higher. You rocked against them and rode them wildly, your juices leaking down your thighs and all over the cotton sheets.

Two more thrusts and you came crashing around their cocks, relief surging through you. Your naga mates groaned and followed the very next moment, their frames shaking violently as they spurted their seed inside you. The warmth filled you up, bringing immediate relief as the eggs seemed to settle within you.

“That’s it, such a good mate for us,” Ragnor murmured, kissing you softly. “How are you feeling, mama?”

“Better. Much better,” you said, your eyes and voice pleasure-hazed.

“It'll be okay," Thorne whispered into your ear. "Now we’re going to change positions and fill you up again, alright, love?”

You nodded, whining. You’d do anything to keep your eggs safe and you loved and needed your mates just as much.

“Let us take care of everything, love,” Ragnor said, kissing you softly once more.

A wet squelch echoed as the cocks exited your depths. Your mates held you in a way that kept most of their seed inside you, and quickly plugged you up. This time, Ragnor laid down, thrusting his dicks up your ass, while Thorne slid between your splayed legs, draped them over his green-scaled tail and filled your tight pussy. Their tails coiled around your breasts, squeezing them delightfully and making your nipples leak out milk. Thorne lapped it up greedily, while Ragnor reached down to play with your swollen clit.

“Haah, yessss, ahnnn, feels so good,” you moaned as you were worshiped and claimed in every way possible. “Hng-go…go…nna—”

You cried out at the dizzying explosion of yet another climax. Your toes, high in the air, curled tightly, and your hands clung frantically to Thorne, fingers digging into his bare back. Their movements grew frantic, desperate until they buried themselves to the hilt and exploded within you, pumping rope after rope of cum, groaning harshly in masculine satisfaction.

Their strong hands rubbed your belly possessively, feeling the gentle movements of the eggs inside you. They kissed you deeply, tongues intertwining, then rearranged your positions again. This time, you lay on your side between your mates. Thorne spooned you from behind, his tail wrapping around your knees and opening your legs. Growling, he thrusts his fat cocks into your pussy and ass. You were drenched, naga seed all over your mound and thighs.

“I say we fill her pretty mouth, too,” Thorne said, his voice thick with arousal. “I want to see her swallow your seed Ragnor, let it fill her stomach.”

Ragnor groaned and kneeled at your face, his cocks jutting proudly up to his bellybutton. “Open up, love,” he cooed. “We need to make sure you’re completely filled.

Ragnor guided his cockhead to your lips and you opened up, taking one of his dicks as deep as you could in your throat. You suckled his shaft with fervor, your tongue tracing the veiny ridges and swirling over the flared head. Your hands pumped his second cock and you alternated between the two while Thorne pounded into you, causing your tits to bounce.

“Fuck, you have no idea how beautiful you look, mate,” Ragnor muttered, watching your mouth, now filled with both his cocks, while Thorne’s dicks pistoned inside you.

“Mffgh— love—hffuh you,” you gurgled around the shafts in your mouth, wet slurping sounds filling the room.

“We love you, too, precious mate,” Throne said, hips snapping repeatedly, driving his shafts deep in your depths. “You’re doing great. We’re almost there. Just a little more, love.”

They settled into a sensual rhythm, Ragnor’s cock filling your mouth while Thorne thrust inside your pussy and ass, his hands gripping your hips to keep you steady. They whispered sweet nothings, their voices thick with praise and adoration: ”you’re doing so well”, “our brave, beautiful mate”. They caressed your tummy, pinched your breasts while their tails flicked your poor clit.

Little sparks of fire sizzled through your body and burned you up in a blissful climax. You trembled and writhed, and Ragnor withdrew his cock allowing you to cry out with ease. Thorne’s magnificent serpent body bucked and he came with a bellow, nipping at your shoulder while pumping his seed inside you. Once he was done, Ragnor slid back in your mouth, his fingers grasping your hair. He thrust once, twice and came, cocks pulsing with his release. You swallowed every single drop, and felt his hot load fill your belly.

“Damn, mate, you took all we had to give,” Thorne said affectionately, his cocks still nestled within you, plugging up the seed.

“Our mate is the strongest,” Ragnor said, kissing you passionately, his tongue tasting his seed in your mouth. “How are you feeling? The eggs?”

“I’m feeling… perfect,” you said with a soft smile. “The contractions are almost gone. When will the eggs come?”

Just in time, a knock echoed through the room. The doctor had returned and you would soon give birth to your eggs.

Any kind of support will make me smile so big! Feel free to share your thoughts and reblog! Next part will be the birth.

[rememberwren]

/•Harmless Fun 8•\

Former and further chapters here.

You (fem!reader) and Johnny and Simon watch a movie. CW: Fingering, handjobs, cum-eating. For @/laughroditee.

-

Sharing a bathroom with Johnny and Simon turns out to be a lot more invasive than you expected. 

It's not actually the bathroom that’s the invasive part. That is no more invasive than sharing any public space, really. You’re a little more secretive with your tampons, and they’re likely a little more stringent in their efforts to clean up after themselves. Even-Steven and all that. You’re all very careful to never even so much as knock when the door is closed, lest you disturb the person within. 

The worst part is that the bathroom can only be accessed through your bedroom. 

You had envisioned (somehow, sillily) that they would only need the bathroom during daylight hours, and likely when you weren’t home. You trusted them not to go through your belongings, but it felt so personal for Johnny to knock on your door and ask to piss when you’re dressed in your skimpy relaxing clothes (the ones you don’t even subject the rest of the apartment to). 

It felt even more personal to wake up in the night to the water running and catch Simon coming out of the bathroom twenty minutes later with dripping hair in nothing but one of his compression t-shirts and boxer-briefs. The two of you freeze at the sight of the other. He jerks a thumb toward the shower, like that explains everything. You hold up a sleepy thumbs-up, though you’re decidedly less sleepy than you were twenty minutes before you were given a front row seat to just how thick Simon’s thighs are. 

Laying in bed, smelling the steam and scent of Simon’s body wash waft gently from the bathroom, if you roll over onto your belly and slip a hand down your panties, nobody ever has to know. 

Except that’s a problem too. Your time for dedicated masturbating (not the frantic, haphazard rubbing-one-out that you’ve taken to since the other bathroom flooded) has decreased dramatically. Before, you would have felt no guilt locking the door and taking care of your own needs—but now just beyond your door was an intrinsic piece of the apartment. You couldn’t just lock your roommates out and tell Johnny or Simon to come back later. You had to be accessible.  It was a nightmare. 

Johnny was the opposite of a help. He was happy to let you rub against his cock (and more than once you’d come to one of those superficial, limb-tingling orgasms) but he was masterful at distracting you from asking for more. 

It led to some stressful days. 

Today was a bad pain day for Johnny, which had turned him sullen and taciturn. He spent most of the day stationed on the couch (finding every excuse to avoid standing up) and in charge of the remote control. It didn’t help that repairs were being done to the bathroom today, with strangers filtering in and out of the apartment. Simon hadn’t been able to go out on a single run, and you could tell that he was drawn tense as a bowstring. 

You made it a personal mission to remain in your bedroom during the repairs, anxious at the strange men in the apartment and the tense feelings tangible in the air. 

By the time dinner rolls around and the repair people are gone, you are eager to be outside of your own four walls. You can’t help craving Johnny and Simon’s company—or any company really, after an entire day spent listening to drills and hammering, feeling trapped thanks to your own social anxiety. Simon helps Johnny to the balcony and lets him smoke, the tension in his shoulders melting away some. By the time dinner rolls around, Johnny is in a better mood, and starving. 

All three of you eat at the sofa instead of the table, brushing elbows and thighs and trying not to make messes of yourselves. A cool breeze comes in with the evening, and Simon stands to shut the balcony doors. 

“Sit with me?” Johnny asks, spreading his thighs. 

You frown. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Then be gentle to me, aye?” 

You sit with your back against his chest, his arms looped around you. “Jesus, yer freezing.” 

“You’re warm,” you murmur, pressing yourself more firmly against him, careful not to jostle his bad thigh. Simon takes a seat at the other end of the couch and you meet his eye accidentally—but he doesn’t look angry. There’s something surprisingly tender and fond in his gaze. He overhears your conversation and drags the duvet off the back of the couch, laying it over you both. Immediately you are swathed in warmth, melting deeper against Johnny. You loop your arms through his, keeping them wrapped securely around you. 

The three of you get sucked into a movie on the television—some of you more than others. 

It’s hard for you to focus on anything besides Johnny and the ache between your legs. Being so close to him has awoken it, stoked it from embers into a deep burn. It doesn’t help when one of his hands drifts down to grip your thigh softly, thumb stroking dangerously high on the inseam of your leggings. 

Your thighs inch open a little, hoping you can pass it off as just getting comfortable, but Johnny seems to take no notice at all, his eyes glued to the television screen. Sometimes he makes a comment to Simon about the plot, and the other man will hum in agreement. 

His other hand gets restless and slips beneath the hem of your t-shirt to rest against your belly, calloused fingertips trailing softly over smooth skin. Something must give you away—a sound or a movement—because his lips brush your ear as he whispers: “Okay?” 

You nod, not trusting your voice. You’re okay. You’re dying, but it’s fine. His thumb finds the crease of your pelvis and traces along it. You’re so sticky between your thighs that you’re sure you could hear it if you shifted too much. Something about his distracted touches make you feel combustible, like C4 in his hands. 

Johnny’s hand on your belly drifts up—you catch it with your hand. 

“‘M not wearing a bra,” you mutter. 

He snorts softly, breath ruffling your hair. “Trust me. I know,” he says. Then his thumb brushes the full softness of your breast. “Been thinking about it all night.”

“Do you two mind?” Simon says dryly, popping the soap bubble of arousal that Johnny had created around you both. You tense, shame in your belly. How horny did you have to be to be willing to let Johnny touch you on the same couch Simon was sitting on?  

“Sorry,” you mutter. 

Johnny nails him with a throw pillow in the chest, asking: “Do you mind?” 

Simon’s head turns away from the telly, the pillow resting innocuously in his lap. He’s got the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen, nearly black in the dim light. The television lights up the edge of him, throwing his features into sharp, harsh light. 

“No,” he says at length. “Play wherever you want.”

The three of you turn back toward the movie, not a single set of eyes truly watching it. With Simon’s explicit permission, Johnny’s hand comes up to cup your breast softly, thumb stroking over your puckered nipple. A sound slips from your throat—you can’t help it. 

“Pent up?” Johnny asks. You can hear the grin in his voice. 

“Be nice to me,” you mumble. 

Simon snorts softly at the other end of the sofa. Then Johnny pinches your nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger, and the pleasant ache goes straight to your clit. 

“Fuck,” you sigh. 

“Like it?” he asks. 

You nod. 

“Want more?” Your head nearly disconnects with the force of your nod. If he doesn’t touch you, you might go mad. Merciless, Johnny says: “Ask for it, and I’ll give it to you.”

You swallow, mouth dry. “Johnny…”

He hums. 

You turn your head a little, til you can see him out of the periphery of your vision. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask for him to touch you, to kiss you maybe. But instead something more honest comes: “Johnny—do whatever you want to me.” 

 Johnny groans, burying his face in your hair. “You hearin’ her, LT?” 

“I hear.”

“Sweet as can fuckin’ be,” Johnny says, pressing the words to the soft skin beneath your ear. “Stay that sweet, no matter what I do, aye? Now watch the movie.”

You turn your eyes back to the television. It’s just a conglomeration of color and shapes that your eyes follow, but your brain doesn’t register a lick of what’s happening. All you can think about are Johnny’s hands, the way they cup your breasts. He touches you like you’re something precious, something friable and likely to come undone if he presses too firmly. He hums, a pleased little sound in the back of his throat and rolls your nipples between his fingers. 

Your thoughts leak out of your ears the longer that he toys with your body. It’s hard to sit still with how bad you need something in your pussy—you’re so turned on that it hurts. Against your back you can feel the solid line of his erection and you wish that you were in a position to get your hands on him, to map the shape of him beneath his sweatpants. 

When your mouth is dry from panting, your hands aching from the way your nails have bitten into your palms, Johnny finally smooths a hand down your tummy and cups your pussy over your leggings., your cunt a match for the burning heat of his palm. 

“Stop me if you don’t want it,” he says, coming to slip his fingertips beneath the waistband of your panties. 

“I want it—Johnny please—“ 

Simon shifts on the couch beside you both, and it draws your eyes to him, your face burning hot. He isn’t even looking at you, is instead staring at the television with a bored expression. At your movement, his eyes flicker to meet your own, and his mouth quirks at the edge. Against your will, your eyes shift down to where his cock would be visible— 

His knuckles are pale where he clenches a hold of the throw pillow in his lap. He flexes his fingers when he catches you looking, working the circulation back into them, but it’s too late to hide. Simon isn’t unaffected by this—you’d swear that he was turned on too, and the thought makes the last little whisper in your head (the one that says this is nogoodbadwrong) quiet. 

Johnny slips his hand into your underwear and finds you soaked, the fabric sodden where it drags along the back of his fingers. His cock twitches against your back. 

“Fuck, y’re wet,” he groans. “Just from having your tits played with?”

“It counts as foreplay for a reason.”

Johnny laughs, breath brushing your temple. His fingers sink into your folds before you can say anything else, stroking deep along the length of your sex which is so tender it feels like a blissful bruise. Your hips jerk upward into the touch, and his fingertips nearly slip inside you. Instead he tempers his movements, careful to follow along with the motion of your hips to keep from giving you any more stimulation than he’s ready to.

“Easy,” he breathes. “Relax—just let me play with you.”

I’ve had enough playing, you think to yourself, eyes rolling. But you work to loosen your death grip on the blankets around you, work to relax your hips until they rest back against Johnny’s cock again. 

He plays with you like this: the lightest brush of his fingertips along your vulva, spreading your wetness all over you. Sometimes his thumb will find your clit and stroke over it, but more often than not he avoids it altogether, content to play with the rest of your pussy, to coax more slick from it until his every touch is audible over the sound of the television. 

Simon must surely hear it. The thought makes you clench around nothing, an unhappy sound rising up in the back of your throat. 

Eventually, something happens to you—something breaks in you, maybe. You go soft and pliant against him, your hips still even when he slips two fingers inside you easy as anything, stroking along your walls as best as he can from this angle. Your noises are louder, too, like the muffler dampening them has rusted and worn away. When he sinks inside you, you let out a groan that has Johnny laughing softly against you. 

“Oh, she’s hungry, isn’t she? You’ve been starvin’ her, haven’t you?” 

He’s talking about your pussy. Jesus. 

“Haven’t,” you pant. “Not on purpose, I—“ 

Johnny just hushes you softly. “It’s alright. Bet you need it so bad, it hurts, don’t you?” 

You nod against his chest, tears filling your eyes, this foggy headspace amplifying your own emotions like an echo chamber. 

“I’ll make it all better,” Johnny promises. He slips his fingers free from you and drags the burning, wet warmth of them up over your clit. 

Just a few firm circles, and you’re climbing that peak, the cord in your belly drawn tighter and tighter until it snaps and sends you free falling, your back arching against Johnny’s chest. Frantic, you reach down and grip his wrist, urging his fingers lower until they slip back inside you, filling you up just right as you clench and spasm around them. The meaty part of his palm rubs against your clit and it’s enough to make you cum again before you’ve properly finished the first time, a choked gasp born and dying in your mouth as he fucks you through it with his fingers. 

Your body goes limp against him. This, this is what you needed.

Awareness filters back, your fingers cramping with the strength you use to grip Johnny’s wrist. You let him go, muttering a sorry. You admit: “It feels better to cum when there’s something inside me.” 

“I’ll remember that,” he says, voice rough. He nuzzles against your temple. Carefully, he withdraws his hand from inside your panties and holds it up to the light; he is slick all over from palm to fingertip. Fuzzy headspace gone, you have plenty of room inside now for embarrassment, your face warming as you bury it in your hands. “Jesus, make me still. You made a mess of me. Who gets them?” 

“Who—? Gets what?” 

He wiggles his fingers. You pull a face. 

“Don’t like the taste of yourself?” Johnny asks mildly. 

“Never tried it I guess,” you admit. Is that a silly thing? That you’ve never tasted your own cum? You wish you hadn’t admitted it, anxious about looking like a prude (which you are anything but, thanks. See the casual sex with your married roommate for more information) but Johnny just brushes over it like it’s nothing. 

“Would you like to?” Johnny asks. It’s on the tip of your tongue to say no, but at the last moment you decide what the hell. You open your mouth, and obligingly, Johnny feeds his first two fingers past your lips to let them rest on your tongue. It doesn’t really taste like anything—clean, a hint of musk. Feminine. Not at all what you had expected. You take Johnny’s wrist when he goes to pull away and lick his palm clean, relishing in his stuttered breath. “Converted you, didn’t I?”

“I think I converted myself, thanks.” Speaking of thanks—you toss the blanket off of you both and slip down to the floor at Johnny’s feet, turning around to rest your hands gently on his knees, hyper aware of his bad thigh. Johnny’s cock stretches his sweatpants obscenely, the fabric darkened around the head from how much he had been leaking pressed against your back. “Let me return the favor.” 

“It’s not about being reciprocal,” Johnny says smoothly. 

“Big word, Johnny,” Simon says. It makes you jolt. You had nearly forgotten that he was there—he is so quiet and still, unmoving on the other end of the sofa. God, he had watched you lick Johnny’s hand clean. The thought makes your face flush with warmth, though he seems cool and calm as anything, not repulsed like you might have expected. 

“I know a few, aye,” Johnny says, eyes rolling. He admits to you: “Math is my strong suit.” 

“Well, subtract your pants.” 

Johnny guffaws. It takes him work, wincing as pressure is placed on his bad thigh, but eventually he is able to draw his cock free, and fuck, what a cock it is. He’s uncut, thick. Just looking at him, you can tell that the stretch of him inside you would be blissful. It’s almost enough to have you aching again between the legs. 

You reach out and then hesitate. “Can I?”

“‘course you can,” he says. “Don’t take this as any representation of my stamina, I’ll have you know—“ 

“Tighter.” 

You both glance towards Simon. He’s loosened his grip on the throw pillow, though it still rests in his lap. He’s abandoned any facade of watching the television and has angled his body towards you where your hand looks downright dainty wrapped around Johnny’s cock. 

“What?” you ask him, unsure if you heard him correctly. 

He wets his lips and says: “Johnny likes a firm grip.” 

Your hand tightens, reflexively responding to the instruction, and Johnny groans above you. Precum leaks from the head, dripping down over your knuckles. 

“That’s it,” Simon says softly. “Good. Go ahead.” 

Maybe that ache between your legs wasn’t as gone as you had thought. Grip firm, you give Johnny a single, slick stroke from head to base, and it has his head lolling back against the couch cushions, his groan echoing around the apartment. 

“Don’t team up against me,” Johnny breathes. “Please, I already don’t stand a chance.” 

“Twist on the upstroke, if your wrist can manage it,” Simon says, eyes glittering as he watches your hand work over his husband. “Just like that—keep doing just that and—” 

Johnny sucks in a breath, wrenching the hem of his t-shirt up just as his cock bursts, pale seed splattering his tanned abs as his face twists with pleasure, eyes screwed tightly shut. His hips jerk upward on instinct until he hisses out a pained breath, and Simon shifts to reach out and place his broad palm over Johnny’s bare sternum, urging him into stillness as you work every last bit of cum from his cock. 

“Jesus,” he groans, palming at his eyes when you have finished. 

“Your turn,” you tease, holding up two sticky fingers to Johnny’s mouth. 

Johnny laughs. He takes your wrist—guides it towards Simon. 

You expect Simon to refuse—not because of Johnny’s cum, but because of your fingers. Simon looks like he thinks about refusing, his eyes careful as he looks over your hand and then your face, examining the slope of your brows, the raised corners of your mouth even as it likely slips into an anxious frown. He takes your wrist gently and brings your fingers to his mouth. His tongue is burning hot where it laps between your fingers. 

You stare, wide-eyed. 

Simon doesn’t stop until your hand is clean. 

[chosok-amo]

LITTLE LAMB ! : NANAMI KENTO

you and nanami kento have been dating for years since you two graduated from jujutsu high. one day he came back from work and found you whimper and cry in your sleep.

warning. trauma, blood, death mentioned, nightmare, lil bit angst.

OHHHHH, i just love how cheesy and corny and cringe this is 😭

nanami exhaled a low, weary grunt as he managed to remove his shoe, using one hand to brace himself against the unyielding, frigid surface of the concrete. his head pounded incessantly, each throb resonating painfully as if his brain was pulsating with discomfort. the relentless demands of working for the jujutsu organization, coupled with the constant, exhausting presence of gojo satoru, surely had drained his mental fortitude and pushed his sanity to the brink.

each day felt like an uphill battle against the mounting stress and strain that came with the territory, leaving him yearning for a reprieve that seemed perpetually out of reach. the cold concrete beneath him served as a stark contrast to the heated turmoil within his mind, a reminder of the relentless challenges he faced in his line of duty.

slowly, nanami lifted his head, his gaze drifting upwards to take in the sight of his living room. the room was shrouded in darkness, with only a faint, warm yellow light providing a dim illumination that cast long shadows across the space. as he gently shifted his feet, the quiet movement seemed to echo in the stillness. he glanced to the side, his eyes landing on the clock, which revealed that it was nearly 2 AM.

sighing softly, he exhaled a string of weary breaths, each one a testament to his exhaustion. with a heavy heart and tired limbs, he began to make his way towards the staircase, every step deliberate and slow. the path led him straight to your shared bedroom, a sanctuary of comfort and solace that he longed to reach. the journey felt longer than usual, each step up the stairs requiring more effort as the weight of the day pressed down on him. finally, he reached the door, his thoughts filled with the anticipation of finally finding some rest and respite beside you.

the gentle creak of the door echoed softly through the room as he carefully opened it, trying not to disturb the tranquility. the room was enveloped in darkness, with only the soft, silvery glow of moonlight filtering in through the window, casting delicate shadows across the walls. as nanami's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed your serene figure lying on the bed, comfortably cocooned in a warm blanket, your breathing steady and peaceful in deep sleep.

a tender smile spread across his face, a sense of calm washing over him at the sight of you. the urge to crawl into bed beside you, to hold you close and press gentle kisses to your forehead, was strong. however, he felt the grime and exhaustion of the day clinging to him, a reminder of the long hours and relentless challenges he had faced.

despite his overwhelming desire to join you, he knew that he needed to cleanse himself of the day's fatigue first. the allure of a hot shower beckoned, promising to wash away not only the physical dirt but also the mental strain that had built up. with a quiet sigh and one last glance at your peaceful form, nanami turned towards the bathroom, each step bringing him closer to the relief and rejuvenation he so desperately needed.

after a good half-hour, nanami emerged from the bathroom, feeling refreshed and a bit lighter. a small towel hung around his neck, which he used to gently dry his damp hair. he wore nothing but a soft blue long-sleeve shirt and comfortable beige pants, his attire reflecting his desire for comfort after a long, arduous day.

as he stepped into the dimly lit room, he suddenly heard soft whimpering, barely audible but enough to catch his attention. the faint, distressed sounds seemed to fill the room, contrasting with the quiet serenity he had expected to find. his heart clenched at the thought of you being troubled in your sleep. the sound, it's heartbreaking.

nanami paused for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness as he tried to locate the source of the whimpering. his gaze settled on you, still wrapped in the warm blanket but now shifting restlessly, a pained expression marring your previously peaceful face. the sight tugged at his heartstrings, urging him to move closer and offer the comfort you seemed to need.

with gentle, deliberate steps, nanami approached the bed, each movement filled with a quiet urgency. he reached out, his hand hovering above your shoulder before he softly placed it there, hoping to soothe you without startling you awake. the tender touch was meant to convey his presence and reassurance, a silent promise that he was there to protect and comfort you.

you were whimpering softly in your sleep, the sound reminiscent of a fragile, distressed little lamb. it was a heartbreaking noise that spoke of deep-seated hurt, echoing faintly through the stillness of the room. as nanami watched you, his concern deepened. the soft glow of the moonlight revealed the glistening tracks of tears on your cheeks, a silent testament to the pain you were experiencing even in your dreams.

your face, usually so serene in slumber, was now contorted with sorrow, your quiet cries breaking the night's tranquility. each tear that escaped your closed eyes shimmered under the silvery light, highlighting the depth of your distress. nanami's heart ached at the sight, feeling a powerful urge to protect and comfort you.

he couldn't bear to see you like this, suffering silently. he knew he needed to be there for you, to offer his support and reassure you that you were safe and loved. with a gentle hand, he reached out and softly brushed away the tears from your cheeks, his touch light and careful, hoping to bring some comfort.

nanami sat down on the edge of the bed, his presence a solid, reassuring anchor in the darkened room. he whispered soothing words, barely audible, but filled with love and reassurance. leaning closer, he wrapped his arms around you gently, pulling you into a comforting embrace, hoping to ease your pain and bring you some measure of peace even as you slept.

he gently roused you from your troubled sleep, his warm hand tenderly cupping your tear-streaked cheek. instinctively, you leaned into his touch, drawn to the soothing warmth and comfort it offered. “hey, my love, wake up,” he murmured, his deep voice flowing like a gentle river, soft and calming.

nanami's thumb brushed delicately over your skin, wiping away the remnants of your sorrow as he continued to whisper sweet reassurances. his presence was a beacon of solace in the dim light, a comforting balm to your wounded dreams. he watched as your eyes fluttered open, gradually adjusting to the moonlit room, his tender gaze never leaving your face.

“come back to me, my dear,” he whispered, his voice a poetic blend of concern and love, each word carefully chosen to bring you back to the safety of his embrace. your heart responded to his call, and you felt the tension slowly ebb away, replaced by the gentle rhythm of his care and devotion.

“ken. . .” your voice emerged as a faint whisper, your throat feeling tighter and drier than usual. he smiled at you with such gentleness that it seemed to melt away the remnants of your distress. “hey,” he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

“you were whimpering and crying in your sleep again, my love. is your nightmare back?” he asked, his calmness so profound you felt you could lose yourself in it. as he spoke, his thumb gently caressed your cheek, his presence a grounding force beside you.

“was i?” you responded, not fully aware that your old habit had resurfaced. yet, deep down, you knew the nightmares had returned, creeping into your slumber like unwelcome shadows. his calm inquiry and tender touch provided a lifeline, pulling you back from the depths of your troubled dreams.

“mhm… you were.”

his voice was a gentle hum, his tone taking on a quieter and calmer demeanor than usual. he looked down at you closely as he lightly stroked your cheek, his fingers warm and soothing against your skin. his eyes studied your features in the dim light, noting the signs of tiredness and stress on your face.

“you have bags under your eyes, my love . . . how many nights has this been going on?”

“i-i don't know,” you mumbled, tightening as if a lump was obstructing your air, refusing to let you breathe freely. your head spun, throbbing with pain, while your eyes began to sting— the pain from trying to hold back your tears.

the memories and vivid imaginations of yuu haibara— your best friends, tormented your mind, each detail rendered in brutal clarity. you could see him sprawled on the cold, merciless ground, surrounded by a pool of his own blood. the sight of his lower body missing was a horrific vision etched deeply into your consciousness. the way his eyes shaking from trying to took a glimpse of you and nanami for the last time— it's was crystal clear in your mind.

these haunting images clung to your thoughts, casting a dark shadow over your mind. the crimson pool starkly contrasted with the cold, unyielding ground, creating a macabre scene that refused to fade. cach recollection was sharp and piercing, like shards of ice embedding themselves into your soul, cutting into your peace and pulling you back into the depths of sorrow and horror.

the weight of these memories bore down on you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think, as the anguish and helplessness you felt surged anew within you. it was as if you were ensnared in a nightmarish vision, each detail a cruel reminder of a friend lost too soon, of a moment too horrific to forget. the cold ground and crimson pool were forever imprinted in your mind, a chilling testament to a tragedy that time could never erase.

he was there too— with you and yuu when that tragedy happened, engraved in your brain and his just like a gift, handing to you in a red bow, the color of his blood. leaving a stain neither you nor nanami could not get rid of just by simply washing your hands, letting it disappears, running with the waters.

that’s one of the reasons nanami kento insists you stay away from the world of jujutsu after graduation. the thought of losing you as he lost his best friend is an unbearable weight on his heart. the memory of that loss haunts him, a dark shadow that he cannot escape, and the idea of history repeating itself fills him with dread. he refuses to let you step back into that life of danger and uncertainty, unwilling to risk your safety for anything.

he will be angry at the world if he loses you.

to him, you are too precious, too irreplaceable. the pain of losing you would be a burden he could never bear, a wound that would never heal. his love for you is a fierce, protective force, driving him to keep you safe, to ensure that you remain by his side, far from the perils that once claimed his closest friend.

he observed the shift in your demeanor closely, noticing the way your throat tightened and your voice seemed to falter. he saw the tears welling up in your eyes and the pain etched on your face.

seeing you like this… it was like seeing your heart breaking in real time. he gently slid an arm underneath your body, before he lifted you up and pulled you closer to him, pulling you carefully into his lap. the faint scent of mint on his breath lingered in the air as he wrapped his other arm around you, his arms holding you close and tight against his chest.

you in such distress made his heart clench inside his chest, a deep sense of helplessness settling over him. he gently took hold of your chin, tilting your head up towards his as he saw the glossiness in your eyes. his hand moved from your chin to lightly brush some hair out of your face, his touch a tender comfort against your skin.

“look at me, honey,” he said quietly. “it’s alright. you’re safe here. i’m right here with you.”

there you are, your eyes glossy and broken, gazing up at him with a poignant, silent plea. the tears magnify their shimmer, making them glisten like fragile, luminous crystals under the soft embrace of the moonlight. the ethereal glow bathes your face, highlighting the depths of your sorrow. each tear catches the light, creating a shimmering trail that reflects your inner turmoil.

his soft and soothing voice brought slight comfort to the storm raging within you. he continued holding you, one arm protectively around your shoulders, and the other gently caressed the top of your head.

“you're safe. i've got you.”

he repeated those words a few more times, knowing they would take time to sink in. he held you closer, your body now sitting against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat steady and strong. he continued stroking your head and your hair, hoping to soothe and calm you bit by bit.

his gentle touch and coaxing voice managed to capture your focus, shifting your gaze from the memories haunting you to his eyes, their color and soothing presence anchoring you in the moment. as he spoke, his words wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, banishing the darkness that had begun to cloud your thoughts.

the weight of the past momentarily lifted, replaced by the assurance of his presence and the safety of his arms. you held onto him tighter, seeking solace in the familiar strength of his embrace, your fingers unconsciously clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

nanami felt the shift in your grip, noticing the tightness of your fingers on his shirt, as you clung to him as if he was your lifeline. he held you against him, his embrace firm and reassuring. he continued caressing your head and your hair, gently tucking strands behind your ears, and letting his fingers linger at your nape. his heart ached as he saw the pain and fear in your eyes, but he remained calm and steady, his voice just a soft murmur, meant only for your ears.

“just breathe, i've got you.”

“i’m scared. i can still see him, ken. . . like-like he’s still there,” you sobbed, your voice trembling with raw emotion. nanami pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively, forming a shield against the torment haunting your mind. each of your sobs echoed in his heart, causing it to ache with a profound, sympathetic pain. the sight of your tears and the sound of your anguish tightened his chest, filling him with a deep sorrow and an even deeper resolve to keep you safe from the shadows of the past.

“he's not there, my love. je's not there... it's just us here, remember? it's just us.”

his voice, while calm on the surface, held a hint of a pain that mirrored your own. the painful memories of that tragic day weighed on him just as heavily as they did on you. as you continued to sob against his chest, nanami continued to hold you, his embrace tight and comforting. he felt the tears dampening the fabric of his shirt, each one a heart-wrenching reminder of your pain.

he whispered soothing words in your ear, trying to reassure you that he was here and that he wasn't going anywhere. every word he spoke was filled with love and reassurance, hoping they would help ease your fears.

“it's alright… everything's alright. just let it out, my love.” he held you tighter, his grip firm but gentle as he tried to soothe your fears. “listen to my voice, alright? focus on me. focus on my voice and nothing else. can you do that for me?” his voice was soft, just a low hum against your ear. he continued caressing and stroking your hair and head, his fingers running through your locks in a slow and soothing rhythm. he kept you held close against his chest, his heart thumping steadily beneath the fabric of his shirt.

as you listened to his voice and felt his touch, you found yourself calming down bit by bit. the sound of his steady heartbeat and the soothing motion of his fingers through your hair helped to ground you, bringing you back to the present.

you closed your eyes and took a deep, shaky breath, your sobs slowly subsiding as you continued to focus on him. the pain and fear still lingered, but they felt less overwhelming with him by your side. “okay,” you whispered, your voice still trembling slightly.

minutes passed by in a hushed silence, except for the occasional, quiet sobs escaping your lips. nanami continued to hold you tightly, his hands gently stroking your back in slow, soothing movements. he wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he could feel the tension gradually leaving your body, replaced by a weary exhaustion. he took a deep breath and spoke again, his voice low and gentle.

“are you feeling any better, my love?”

you slowly nodded against his chest, your body heavy with the emotional strain from the nightmare and the subsequent breakdown. “a-a little,” you mumbled, your voice hoarse from all the crying. you didn't lift your head from his chest, taking comfort in the closeness and the protective warmth of his embrace.

you felt a mix of exhaustion and relief, but the lingering memories of the nightmare still weighed heavily on your mind. despite that, being in his arms made you feel safer, like nothing could harm you as long as he was near. “how about i make you some tea and we can go to sleep after that, hm?”

you nodded again, the idea of a warm cup of tea and a good rest sounded like just the thing you needed right now. “yes, please,” you mumbled, your voice small and weary. you continued to cling to him, feeling the comfort in his arms and not wanting to let go just yet.

the thought of sleeping was a bit intimidating, as you feared the nightmares might come back, but you trusted nanami to stay with you and keep them at bay. after a few more seconds of holding you close, nanami carefully shifted his position, gently coaxing you to sit upright. je then stood up from the bed, keeping one arm around you for support. “here, hold onto me,” he said softly, guiding you to your feet. “can you walk, or do you want me to carry you to the kitchen?” you looked up at him, your eyes filled with gratitude and trust, and reached out, stretching your hands towards him in silent request.

nanami saw the gesture and smiled gently, understanding your unsaid request. he bent down and picked you up in his arms, lifting you with ease as if you weighed nothing. he cradled you against his chest, your body fitting snugly in his embrace.

“there we go,” he said softly, his voice warm and soothing. “just rest, okay? i've got you.”

nanami carried you to the kitchen, each step he took was steady and careful, ensuring that you were secure in his arms. as you reached the kitchen, he continued holding you comfortably against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around your body. once he got to the counter, he gently set you down on a stool, keeping a supportive arm around you as he spoke.

“i'm going to start brewing the tea. just rest here for a moment, alright?” he cupped your cheek for a moment, gently caressing it with his thumb, then leaned in to kiss your forehead. you just nodded your head as an answer.

with you seated on the stool, nanami stepped away to gather the ingredients for the tea. he moved around the kitchen, his movements graceful and efficient. he placed a kettle on the stove to boil the water, and then retrieved a box of tea leaves from a nearby cabinet.

he cast occasional glances in your direction as he worked, making sure you were alright and still resting comfortably. once the water was boiling, he steeped the tea leaves in the kettle, letting the aroma of the tea fill the kitchen.

as nanami prepared the tea, he noticed your unwavering gaze upon him. whenever he glanced in your direction, he met your eyes, the silent communication passing between you like a gentle current.

seeing your focus on him, he couldn't help but smile softly. the knowledge that you were watching his every move made his heart feel a bit lighter, knowing that you were still there with him, even if your mind had temporarily been taken by that nightmare.

“you're just going to watch me work, huh?” he asked jokingly, his voice was light and playful. “no requests or demands? i'm surprised,” he chuckled lightly.

he continued to move around the kitchen, his attention split between making the tea and comforting you with his presence, adding a bit of honey and lemon as you preferred. you shook your head slightly, a soft smile playing on your lips. “no, i just like watching you,” you replied, your voice gentle and filled with affection. “it's soothing. besides, i trust you to make it perfectly.”

your gaze never wavered as you continued to watch him, finding comfort in the simple act of observing his careful movements and the calmness he exuded. “thank you for always taking care of me, ken,” you added softly, your words carrying a deep sense of gratitude and love for your boyfriend.

nanami's heart warmed at your words, the sight of your smile causing a pleasant flutter in his chest. despite his usual calm demeanor, knowing that you appreciated his efforts and felt comforted by his presence never failed to affect him. he finished preparing the tea, a fragrant steam rising from the mug. he picked it up and walked back over to you, a tender smile on his face.

“of course, my love. i'll always take care of you,” he replied softly, his voice filled with sincere affection. “that's a promise i intend to keep.”

he placed the mug on the countertop beside you, and then took a step closer. he reached out and lightly caressed your cheek, his touch of tender reassurance, the touch firm but gentle. “you don't have to thank me,” he said softly. as nanami's hand touched your cheek, his thumb lightly stroking the contour of your face, he couldn't help but notice the exhaustion etched upon it.

the weariness from the nightmare and the emotional toll it had taken on you was still evident in your weary eyes and the lines on your forehead. he gently brushed a few strands of hair back, tucking them behind your ear, his touch gentle and soothing. “drink some tea, love. it'll help you relax,” he said, his voice a low, soothing murmur.

your heart warmed at nanami’s words and the gentle smile on his face. as he placed the steaming mug of tea beside you, you couldn’t help but tease him a bit. “maybe one day i'll actually have to wife you up with all this care and attention,” you said with a playful grin, your eyes twinkling, “you’re making it really hard to stay single!”

nanami’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he lightly caressed your cheek. “well, if it means i get to be your favorite tea-maker, i’ll gladly accept the role,” he replied with a chuckle. “you don’t have to thank me, my love,” he continued softly. “nut if you do decide to make that leap, i’ll be more than ready.”

as you teased him about marrying him, nanami chuckled softly. he couldn’t help but find it adorable how you teased him despite everything that had been going on, and he appreciated that you could find humor in the midst of all the stress.

his hand caressed your cheek gently, his fingers tracing small, soothing circles against your skin. he smiled at your playful banter, his heart light with affection. “i suppose i should consider myself lucky,” he said with a smirk. “you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger already.”

he picked up your pointy finger and gently brought it to his lips, your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected gesture. his eyes met yours as he pressed a kiss against your finger, the warmth of his lips sending a shiver down your spine. is gaze held a mixture of tenderness and a hint of amusement, as he couldn’t help but tease you back.

“see? wrapped around your finger,” he mumbled, his lips still lightly touching your skin.

your gaze was fixed on his lips as they brushed against your finger, making your heart race so intensely you felt it in your ears. after a brief silence, you cleared your throat. it always annoyed you how, whenever you tried to tease nanami, he effortlessly turned the tables on you, leaving you at a loss.

you cleared your throat, a tinge of embarrassment crept onto your face. nanami couldn't help but chuckle at your reaction, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. he knew that you loved to tease him, especially when you thought you could get the upper hand in a situation. little did you know, however, that he had more than enough tricks up his sleeves.

“ah, come on now, my love,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “can't handle it when i turn the tables on you?”

nanami continued to smirk as he watched you trying to compose yourself, enjoying the way your little teasing attempt had backfired so endearingly. his eyes sparkled with a touch of triumph, as he fully relished the moment. he moved a little closer to you, leaning his hip against the countertop as he spoke in a low, teasing tone. “you’re not too embarrassed, right? you started it, remember?”

you blushed, feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks as you tried to avoid his teasing gaze. “shut up,” you mumbled shyly, your voice barely more than a whisper. you glanced down, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips despite your attempt to play it cool. the playful spark in nanami’s eyes and his gentle touch only made it harder to stay composed.

as you blushed and tried to avoid his gaze, nanami chuckled softly. he could tell that you were flustered by his teasing, and it only made him want to continue messing with you a little longer. he leaned in closer, his body almost pressing against yours as he continued to smirk.

“ah, such a cute reaction,” he teased, his voice a low murmur. “you know i can’t resist teasing you when you’re like this.”

“shut up,” you groan, dragging the 'p' longer, your voice laced with a mix of shyness and playful frustration. your cheeks burned even hotter, and you quickly covered your face with both hands in an attempt to hide your embarrassment.

nanami chuckled again, clearly enjoying your embarrassed reaction. he carefully grabbed one of your hands, gently tugging it away from your face so he could see your expression. “no, no, no, don't hide from me now,” he teased, his voice filled with mock disappointment. “i love it when you get all flustered.” you let out a small, high-pitched squeal as you buried your face against his, your giggles escaping despite your attempt to hide.

as you screamed and hid your face in his chest, nanami found himself laughing quietly at your adorable behavior. the high-pitched sound and the feeling of your face against his chest only made his heart clench with affection.

he wrapped his arms around you and held you close, his hand gently stroking your hair, trying not to burst out into full-on laughter at your antics. he loved it when you acted so shy and cute, especially when you tried to hide your blushing face from him. “ah, my beautiful soon-to-be wife,” nanami murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

as he kissed the top of your head, his lips lingered for a moment, as if he was trying to imprint that affectionate gesture into your memory. he held you close, his arms strong and protective around you. he could feel you nuzzling against his chest, still trying to hide your burning face. nut he knew how much you loved it when he called you his ’beautiful soon-to-be wife’ it was a playful nickname he had used before, and it always seemed to get you just as flustered each time.

he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest against your cheek. he enjoyed the feeling of having you so close, and the way your embarrassment made you cling to him.

you gently pushed your face away from his chest, your chin resting on it as you looked up at him. the remnants of embarrassment still linger on your cheeks, adding a soft, rosy glow to your flushed expression.

as you pushed your face away from his chest, nanami looked down at you with a warm, amused smile. his gaze softened as he saw the remnants of embarrassment still lingering on your cheeks, the soft, rosy glow adding a sweetness to your expression. his hand moved to cup your jaw, his thumb lightly tracing the contours of your skin.

“there’s that blush again,” he teased gently. “you just can’t help it, can you?” you raised an eyebrow and gave him a playful eye rolling. “oh, please. if you weren’t always so charming, maybe i wouldn’t blush so easily.”

nanami raised an eyebrow in return, his smile growing wider at your sassy response. he chuckled softly, clearly enjoying your playful banter. “charm, you say?” he replied, his tone is lighthearted and amused. “so it’s all my fault then, hmm?”

he leaned down a little closer, his face hovering just inches from yours, his gaze unwavering. “well, i suppose i can’t help it if you find my irresistible charisma utterly swoon-worthy,” he teased with a grin. you smirked, hugging his waist tightly.

“oh, so this is what happens when you come back from jujutsu and gojo’s influence starts rubbing off on you. you’re getting pretty good at this charming stuff.”

you tilted your head, feigning contemplation. “i suppose i’ll just have to deal with it, since you’ve clearly mastered the art of being swoon-worthy.” nanami chuckled lowly as you accused him of getting influenced by gojo, a hint of mock offense in his expression. he knew that gojo could be hard to shake off, both in person and his impact on others.

“oh, absolutely,” he said sarcastically. “gojo's charm and banter are like a virus that spreads. i have no control over it.”

he smirked back, loving the way you continued to tease him. “and you're just going to have to deal with it, because i've mastered the art of being irresistibly charming just for you,” he chuckled. “gojo might have his tricks, but i assure you, my love— all this charm is entirely my own.”

you scrunch your nose, smile still colored in your face, “you're so cheesy and corny.”

nanami chuckled even louder at your scrunching of your nose and your blunt comment. he knew he sometimes did go overboard with cheesy lines, but he couldn’t help it when it came to you.

“cheesy and corny, hm?“ he teased, not the least bit bothered by your playful criticism. “maybe i’m just trying to get you to swoon over me some more.” he smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “or maybe i just can’t help but be disgustingly romantic around you.”

he leaned in, you tightened your arm around his waist, a smile spreading across his face. you mirrored his expression, whispering, “and i'm disgustingly in love with you,” your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

as you tightened your arm around his waist and mirrored his expression, a warm smile spreading across your face, nanami’s heart skipped a beat in response. his eyes softened, a tenderness in his gaze, as you confessed your love. he leaned in closer to you, drawn to the affectionate gesture. he relished the way you spoke, the words dripping with sweetness.

even after all this time together, your affection still had the ability to make him weak in the knees. he closed his eyes briefly, savoring the sensation of your breath against his lips. the words ‘disgustingly in love’ echoed in his mind, a reminder of the depth of your feelings for each other. he chuckled softly, his breath warm against your lips before you kissed him.

“and i'm disgustingly in love with you, too,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

as your lips met in a brief, gentle kiss, nanami felt a wave of affection well up within him. he drew back briefly, drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, before leaning back in to capture your lips again with his hands come up to gently cradle your cheeks. this time, he kissed you with a deeper, more passionate intensity, his lips molding against yours hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth with a familiar, intoxicating rhythm.

you could feel his body press against yours, his hands holding your face tightly as he claimed your mouth with a possessive, overwhelming force. he pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss, his hand moving up to gently caress your cheek. he looked at you, his gaze filled with tenderness.

“you know,” he murmured, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion, “i could say cheesy, corny things to you all night long.” as he pulled back from the kiss, his hand gently caressing your cheek, you could see the tenderness in his gaze. you relished the huskiness in his voice, the raw emotion behind it making your heart flutter.

you chuckled softly at his words, a mixture of mock annoyance and affection in your expression.

“oh, I know you could,” you retorted gently. “but please don’t. my poor heart can only take so much cheese before it melts into a puddle.”

nanami laughed heartedly as he saw your playful eye roll in response to his cheesy words. je knew very well the effect his cheesy lines had on you, but he couldn’t help himself sometimes. the way you tried to brush them off with a coy smirk only made him want to keep going.

he pulled you in closer, his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you tight in an embrace.

“ah, come on now,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of playful pleading. “you love it when i’m cheesy. don’t deny it.”

and just like that, with nanami's cheesy and corny jokes, his comforting presence, and the warmth of his embrace, your nightmares and fears began to dissipate. his gentle humor and unwavering support created a safe haven for you, where the shadows of your past couldn't reach.

in his arms, the weight of your worries lifted, replaced by a profound sense of peace and security. nanami's love and tenderness enveloped you, turning your darkest moments into memories of light and laughter.

[soldiersareyourprotectors]

Mike and Tim loved each other deeply. Mike, with his towering frame and muscular build, looked every bit the athlete. He was the star of the local rugby team, known for his strength and agility. Tim, on the other hand, was lean and wiry, with a sharp intellect and a quick wit that matched his keen eyes. They had been together for three years, and while their friends and family assumed the dynamics of their relationship, only they knew the truth.

In public, they played their roles well. Mike would wrap an arm protectively around Tim's shoulders, pulling him close as they navigated through life. Tim would lean into Mike, a small smile playing on his lips as if to say, "Yes, he's mine." They were the picture-perfect couple, and everyone admired them, envying their seemingly perfect chemistry.

What people didn't see was the subtle dance of power that took place behind closed doors. In their private sanctuary, Mike's broad shoulders and imposing stature meant nothing. As soon as they stepped into their apartment, the roles reversed.

One evening, after a particularly grueling rugby match, Mike trudged into their apartment, sweat glistening on his body. Tim was already home, sitting on the couch with a book in hand. He looked up as Mike entered, his eyes softening for a moment before a mischievous glint replaced the tenderness.

"Rough game?" Tim asked, closing his book and setting it aside.

Mike nodded, his muscles aching and his mind weary. "Yeah, they really put us through the wringer tonight."

Tim stood and walked over to Mike, his lean form moving with an effortless grace.

He reached up, cupping Mike's face in his hands and pulling him down for a deep, lingering kiss. When they broke apart, Tim's voice was low and commanding.

"Shower. Now."

Mike's eyes widened slightly, but he obeyed without question. He stripped off his clothes as he walked to the bathroom, the hot water a welcome relief against his tired muscles. As he stood under the spray, he felt the tension slowly ebb away, replaced by a different kind of anticipation. As the hot water cascaded over Mike's sore muscles, he found himself replaying Tim's firm command in his mind. Tonight felt different, special, as if Tim had planned something extraordinary. Stepping out of the shower, Mike wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way to the bedroom, feeling a flutter of anticipation.

Tim stood by the bed, his eyes dark and intense, an air of authority radiating from him. The room was dimly lit, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. "Come here," Tim instructed, his voice steady and commanding.

Mike obeyed, crossing the room and standing before Tim, who reached out to gently untie the towel around Mike's waist, letting it fall to the floor. Tim's touch was electric, his fingers tracing patterns over Mike's chest and down his arms, sending shivers through his body.

Tim reached up, trailing his fingers lightly over Mike's chest, his touch sending shivers down Mike's spine. "You did well today," Tim murmured, his voice a seductive whisper. "But now, it's time to let go." Mike felt his knees weaken, sinking to the floor in submission. Tim guided him to the bed, his movements confident and deliberate, his control absolute.

For the rest of the night, Tim led Mike through an intricate dance of pleasure and obedience. Every touch, every whisper was calculated to drive Mike to the edge and back, each moment more intense than the last. Mike surrendered completely, reveling in the freedom that came with letting Tim take control.

As the night deepened, their connection grew stronger, the boundaries between them blurring until all that remained was the raw, unfiltered expression of their love and trust. When they finally collapsed into each other's arms, spent and satisfied, Mike drifted off to sleep with a deep sense of contentment.

The next morning, Mike awoke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. He reached out, expecting to find Tim beside him, but the bed was empty.

Confused, Mike sat up, rubbing his eyes, and that's when he noticed something strange. His body felt different, smaller. He looked down and gasped. The body he saw wasn't his own; it was Tim's.

Heart pounding, Mike scrambled out of bed and rushed to the mirror. Staring back at him was Tim's reflection. He touched his face, his hands, unable to comprehend what had happened. Just then, the bedroom door opened, and in walked Tim-or rather, Mike's body with Tim's confident stride.

Tim, now in Mike's muscular form, grinned at the look of shock on Mike's face.

"Surprise," he said, his voice carrying a hint of triumph.

"What... how?" Mike stammered, struggling to find his voice.

Tim approached, his movements fluid and commanding. "I've been working on this for a while," he explained, flexing his new, powerful muscles. "I wanted to give us an experience neither of us would ever forget."

Mike's mind raced, a mix of disbelief and awe flooding his senses. "You... you swapped our bodies?"

Tim nodded, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "And now," he said, stepping closer,

"I'm going to show you what it's like to be on the receiving end."

Before Mike could react, Tim's strong hands were on him, pushing him back onto the bed. Tim's newfound strength and size made resistance futile. He pinned Mike down, his grip firm but not painful, his eyes burning with a dominant fire.

"Relax," Tim murmured, his voice deep and reassuring. "Let me take care of you."

Despite the surreal situation, Mike felt a familiar thrill coursing through him.

He trusted Tim implicitly, and the idea of experiencing this new dynamic was intoxicating. He nodded, surrendering once more, this time to the powerful form of the man he loved.

Mike lay back on the bed, still reeling from the intensity of the shock. Tim, now in Mike's powerful body, towered over him, his expression a blend of satisfaction and authority. "Relax," Tim said softly yet commandingly as he positioned himself. The sensation of Tim's strong hands gripping his hips made Mike shiver. It was surreal to see his own muscular arms and broad shoulders moving with Tim's confident precision.

With a firm, controlled push, Tim entered Mike, the initial shock quickly giving way to waves of intense pleasure. Tim's powerful body thrust into him, each movement precise and deliberate. Mike's smaller frame felt every inch, every movement, as Tim guided him through a symphony of pleasure.

Tim's dominance was complete. He used his newly acquired strength to pin Mike down, his thrusts growing more intense. Mike moaned, surrendering completely to the overwhelming sensation, his trust in Tim absolute. The experience was electrifying, a mix of raw power and deep intimacy that left them both breathless.

Every thrust sent waves of pleasure through Mike's body, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the moment. Tim's control was unyielding, his dominance absolute. He drove into Mike with a rhythm that spoke of both passion and mastery, each movement precise and powerful.

Finally, as they both neared the peak of their shared ecstasy, Tim's thrusts became more urgent, more forceful. Mike cried out, his body trembling with the force of his climax, matched by the powerful release from Tim. They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and sweat, utterly spent and deeply satisfied.

For a few moments, they lay there in silence, their breathing gradually slowing.

Mike looked up at Tim, still in awe of the experience. "That was... unbelievable," he whispered.

Tim smiled down at him, his eyes softening. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, brushing a stray lock of hair from Mike's forehead.

As they lay there, basking in the afterglow, Tim's expression grew more serious.

"There's something you need to know," he said quietly.

Mike's heart skipped a beat. "What is it?"

Tim took a deep breath. "The body swap... it's permanent."

Mike's eyes widened in shock. "Permanent?"

Tim nodded. "I don't have any regrets, Mike. This is how it's meant to be. You need to accept it. I wanted to give us something more than just a temporary experience.

I wanted us to truly become who we are inside. You've always been the strong, dominant one in public, but in private, you love to submit. And I've always been the one in control, no matter how we appeared to others. Now, our bodies match our true selves."

Mike struggled to process the enormity of what Tim had done. He looked down at his new, leaner form, then back up at Tim's muscular body. Despite the shock, he couldn't deny the rightness of it. This body felt more like him, just as Tim's new form suited him perfectly.

Tim's smile turned mischievous. "I can't wait to live life as you in public, being the hot local rugby player. Stepping into your gear for the matches is going to be amazing." He paused, eyeing Mike's new slender frame. "And you know what? You should become a cheerleader for us. With your now skinny frame, you'll fit right in."

Mike's mind whirled at the idea, but as he lay there, cradled in his-no, Tim’s-strong arms, a sense of acceptance began to wash over him. This was their new reality, and he trusted Tim completely.

Tim looked down at him, his eyes soft but firm. "From now on, we should call each other by our new names. You are Tim, and I am Mike. This is who we are now."

Mike—no, Tim-nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Alright, Mike," he said, testing the name on his tongue. "I trust you."

Tim— now the real Mike—leaned down, kissing him tenderly. "I know you do, Tim.

And I'm going to take care of you, just as you deserve."

The new Mike grinned, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "I love controlling your tall, muscular body in public, and I'll love it even more in private, with you being the smaller one now. It's going to be incredible."

[zepskies]

Every Second Counts - Part 5

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: I thought about breaking up this chapter into two parts, but for some reason it didn’t feel right. I hope you enjoy the finale! I think this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for…

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, ‘90s movie reference, mutual pining and tension, and a strong dose of smut.

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 5: “Damn Worth It”

You borrowed Russell’s cell to call Dory from the hospital. You let her know that Charlie was stable and resting, and that Russell was bringing you home.

You should’ve known that when you two got there, you wouldn’t have the kind of privacy you craved. Colter and Dory were waiting in his car, parked in your driveway. They met you in front of your house, where Dory pulled you into a big, swaying hug. She cried, you cried, and her brothers hung back to watch the warm scene.

Dory pulled back to get a better look at you. She hesitated to touch the bandage above your brow.

“God. Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you sniffed, wiping at your face. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Dory actually had your keys. After she handed them to you, you took in a steadying breath, and you unlocked your front door without incident this time. You invited everyone in.

Even though you told her not to, Dory began straightening up a bit for you. She had Russell take out the trash while she washed the dishes.

Meanwhile, you pulled Colter aside in the living room. You led him to sit with you on the couch.

“Can I at least give you $1,000?” you asked. It was all you had left in your savings, but the man had literally saved your brother's life, and yours as well. “I know it’s not much, compared to what your jobs usually get you—”

“Please,” Colter said. He touched your arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you and Charlie are safe.”

You teared up all over again, but you gave him a smile and held his hand with both of yours.

“Thank you,” you said.

Russell happened to spot the cozy little scene from the doorway. He couldn’t help staring, and trying not to frown.

When Colter caught sight of his brother loitering (and that look on his face), Colter tried to hide most of his smile. He let go of your hand, patted your shoulder and stood. You followed him to the kitchen, where he went to check on Dory. Russell filtered in behind you both.

“Hey, wanna grab some lunch?” Colter asked his sister.

She gave him a raised brow. “Wow, my brother actually wants to hang out with me instead of rushing off to the next job?”

He gave her an amused look. “I’ve got some time.”

Dory was happy to hear that, but her expression dimmed when she turned to you.

“Would you want to go? Or do you need to rest?” she asked.

“Oh, I need to get cleaned up, and then sleep for about ten years,” you said. “But you go, D. Have fun.”

She frowned. “I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

“Well, she won’t be,” Russell chimed in. “I’m gonna hang out here for a bit, clean up and take little power nap myself.”

At that, Dory slowly smiled, both amused and suspicious. Her gaze slid back to you.

“Are you sure?” she asked. You read the double meaning laced in her tone.

“Yeah, definitely,” you said with a smile, and the beginnings of a warm blush. “You guys go ahead.”

There was a knowing gleam to her own smile, but Dory shrugged and gave you one last hug. She and Colter said their goodbyes to their older brother before they headed out. It left you alone in the house with Russell for the first time since this all began.

“Um, you can use the guest bathroom if you want to shower,” you told him. “Towels are under the sink, and feel free to borrow any of Charlie’s clothes if you need.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got a bag in the car with some stuff,” Russell said, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “I take one wherever I go.”

“Smart,” you nodded. “Very prepared.”

A strange silence stretched between you two, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m just…gonna go clean up,” you said. “We can order some food after?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” he said. He was amused as he watched you scurry off, after giving him another smile over your shoulder.

Though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a small trill of nerves himself. It brought him a little bounce in his step as he headed out to his car to grab his stuff.

By the time you were done showering and drying your hair, Russell had ordered a pizza (and a side of fries). You padded out into the living room in an old college shirt and pajama shorts. He tried not to linger his gaze on your smooth, bare legs. 

“Sorry, forgot to ask if you’d want something else to eat,” he said. 

“Pizza is perfect,” you said. At this point, after almost a full day without food, you’d eat sliced bread out of the bag. You gave him a teasing look. “I’d ask you if you wanted a beer, but I’m afraid it’s not up to your standard.”

“Well, that’s okay. I happen to have brought a sample for you, just like I promised,” he said, with that grin of his you’d come to expect.

He retrieved a case of homebrew from his car, but you had to add some ice cubes into a tall glass before you joined him back on the couch. You poured the contents of a bottle into the glass.

“Sorry, I know this is sacrilege, but I can’t drink warm beer,” you said.

“I can’t fault you, though I didn’t really peg you for a pizza and beer kind of girl,” he said. He tipped a swig of beer into his mouth, right from a lukewarm bottle. He was a purist.

You quirked a brow at him and took another bite of your pizza slice. 

“Why not?” you asked, after swallowing a mouthful of pepperoni and mushroom.

Russell shrugged. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“No, no. I want to hear this,” you said. “What, because I teach college students?”

Russell looked over at you and leaned on his elbow, resting above his knee. 

“You’re a college professor with a handful of degrees,” he said. “I’ve got a GED and a give ‘em hell outlook on life.”

You shook your head at that. 

“We’re different. That’s not a bad thing,” you said. “And like my brother, you’ve fought for this country. You’ve saved lives, including mine. I’d say that’s pretty damn special.”

His head tilted at that. He didn’t want to remind you that, just like you saw today, he’d taken lives too. Perhaps just as many as he’d saved. You could debate the quality of those lives, but in the grand scheme of things, he knew what he was. A trained killer.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling a familiar weight.

You didn’t like the pensive look on his face, so you aimed to distract him.

“Want to watch a movie?” you suggested.

Russell inclined his head. “Sure. What you got?”

That was how the two of you ended up finishing the box of pizza and a case of beer while laughing at Tommy Boy, of all things—one of the best '90s buddy road trip comedies of all time. Apparently Russell had never seen it before, but you enjoyed watching him experience it for the first time. He had a deep, infectious laugh that made you laugh just by proximity. 

Later in the movie, the reluctant, unlikely duo of Tommy and Richard hit a deer, and tried to transport it in the car. Russell both laughed and cringed when the animal woke up and thoroughly wrecked the car from the inside. You noticed his reaction and nudged him in the arm. 

Russell held in a grunt of pain when you unintentionally hit his injured shoulder, bandaged underneath his gray henley. 

“What if that was the Chevelle,” you teased. 

He cast you a playfully chiding look. “Woman, don’t even joke.”

You laughed and squeezed his forearm in a friendly gesture. But he thought there was more than just friendliness when you shot him that little smile. He decided to take a chance. 

“Come ‘ere,” he said. He slid a hand around your waist and guided you closer until you came to lay against his side. You allowed yourself to rest against him, splaying your hand flat against the firm wall of his chest. Your heart tripped up faster, but you also relaxed more fully for the first time since you got home. You let out a long breath, and you used the remote to lower the volume on the movie a little.

“Do you think Charlie will be able to get past this?” you asked quietly. “Think he’ll be okay?”

Russell hummed as he thought back to his conversation with your brother in the hospital. Charlie was still young, but he seemed to realize what he’d done, and what he needed to change. He wouldn’t have volunteered himself for rehab if he hadn’t.

Russell brushed your arm with his thumb. “Well, I think he knows what he needs to do. If he’s anything like you, then he’ll be all right.”

Your mouth tugged upward, though you considered his words with a sigh.

“He hasn’t had it easy,” you said. “He was barely eighteen when our parents died. Suddenly he had to be an adult. In fact, he almost didn’t finish high school. Had to take care of the funeral, had to get a job, had to take care of me…and I didn’t always make it easy on him.”

Russell’s lips curved in light of your faint smile. Then, your expression dimmed.

“He pulled me out of the car,” you admitted. Russell looked down at you.

“You all were there?” he asked. 

“My dad was driving. We’d just gone out to dinner as a family,” you said.

You hesitated as the scenes once again filtered through your mind. Some things were hazy. Others, you could see with perfect clarity. You remembered how your parents argued about the best way to get home while the pouring rain beat down overhead, half-drowning out their voices.

You remembered what the flash of a red stoplight looked like through the car window, with streams of water coming down, and a dead leaf stuck to the glass.

You remembered the sound of horns blaring in your ears, the crunch of metal on metal. Your mother’s scream. The feeling of being suspended, and then ricocheted painfully through time and space.

Then the smell of exhaust, and the metallic tang of blood.

“We were heading through a terrible storm,” you said, after letting out a long breath through your nose. “By the end of the night, it was just me and Charlie in the hospital.”

He’d broken his arm, but thanks to him, the only thing you really walked away with were a few cuts and bruises, and the memories of that day. They were like old scars, painful and tender at the touch.

Russell shook his head, his brows knitting together. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “And I’m sorry too. I know you understand what it’s like to lose a parent.”

The movie played on as that new weight settled between you. Russell fell into his own thoughts as he continued to rub your arm in comfort. His own past wasn’t like yours, but he did understand some of your pain.

“How much did Dory tell you about how we grew up?” he asked.

You shifted a bit, so you could see his face too.

“I know your dad took you all to a cabin in some sort of compound in the woods, when you all were still pretty young.”

“He taught us to live off the land. Drilled us, really,” Russell explained, noting your raised brows. “Yeah, he was…well, a paranoid bastard, to be frank. We still don’t know all of why, and what drove him to move us out there.”

“Dory said he was…eccentric,” you said. Russell snorted.

“He was a piece of fucking work,” he said. “Half the time I hated him, if I’m honest.”

That part was hard to admit, even if it was true. Your hand soothed across his chest, more comforting as you listened. Russell’s lips quirked. He liked that about you, that you were willing to listen without judging him, or his family. Maybe that was another reason Dory seemed to love you so much.

“But one night, it was like he snapped,” he said.

For a moment, he was lost in the memory. His father’s anger, and the damn crazy look in his eyes. 

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

Russell glanced at you again. “I don’t think you wanna hear this right now.”

You shook your head. “No, I do.”

He hesitated, but that earnest look in your eyes got him. Still, he surprised himself when he actually told you. He explained it the best he could, the way he saw it in his mind’s eye.

Their mom had been missing, hadn’t come home yet. Then his dad had torn around the house like a man possessed, until he told them it was time to leave for their own safety. Dory had been scared, especially when he grabbed her, yelled at her.

That was the one thing Russell couldn’t tolerate. So he snapped, yanking the older man back and shoving him away. It was one of the first times Russell had ever defied his father.

Ashton Shaw left them then, heading out into the night and the rain. Maybe he’d realized what he was doing to his own kids, his own family.

Colter wanted to follow after him, but Russell stopped him. Being the eldest, he took on the responsibility, even if he’d been reluctant. We’re better off without him…

He was barely sixteen at the time, but Russell knew he’d seen his father arguing with someone—a man he’d seen before, talking with his mother. And then…

“I watched him die that night,” Russell said.

Your hand clenched in his shirt, reminding him that you were still in his arms, still listening. He remembered that scene, looking over the cliff to find his father’s broken body down below. 

“He fell, and I couldn’t stop it,” he said. “And to this day, I still don’t know what all that was about.”

He’d been reluctant to tell even Colter that it still haunted him sometimes; that night, and the not knowing.

You pulled yourself up further so you could meet Russell’s gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” you said.

The movie had long faded into the background, but at least it gave some white noise for the next heavy beat that passed between you two. His eyes eventually fell away from yours.

“It’s old history,” Russell said at last.

“It’s not just history,” you denied softly. “It’s your life.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just hummed in agreement. He encouraged you to relax against him again, with a warm hand on your back. You settled and released another contented sigh. Even though Russell’s story weighed on your heart, you did feel closer to him. It made you feel like you understood Dory better too, and even Colter.

Russell rubbed your arm. “You doin’ okay? You’ve had a long day.”

“Day and night,” you agreed. Your eyes closed against your will. “But, yeah…I think I’m okay now.”

At that, he smiled. He laid a kiss on your forehead.

“Good,” he said.

A few minutes later, Russell heard your soft, deeper breaths in sleep. He chanced grabbing a throw blanket laid over the back of the couch. He managed to toss it over your body, but he made sure it covered you. You shifted in your sleep and curled up more comfortably against him. 

Russell smiled down on you fondly. He’d learned a hell of a lot more about you in just the past couple of days, but ever since he met you, he’d been picking up on the important things. The things that made you the woman you were.

And he wanted more, he realized. He wanted more time with you.

That turned out to be the last real thought he had before his eyes closed on him too. 

Russell didn’t wake again until the credits on the movie were rolling near the end. You were still knocked out. So he carried you, blanket and all, over to your bedroom.

He smelled the remnants of your floral shampoo and body wash in the air, likely coming from the bathroom. It was an intoxicating mix, one that had infiltrated his nose ever since you came out of the shower today. 

It was only 6:00 p.m., but it might as well have been midnight. He laid you down toward the middle of the bed. There was still space on the other side. Very tempting.

She did offer, he thought, remembering what you’d said at the hospital. And yet, he hesitated.

Before he could make a decision, you made it for him. Your hand reached out to hook in his shirt. 

Russell looked down at your sleepy smile. 

“Get over here,” you said, tugging him downward. He chuckled and wrapped his hand around yours. He allowed you to guide him over, and he somehow managed to roll onto the other side of the bed without crushing you. 

“Reflexes like a cat, I tell ya,” he quipped.

You giggled softly. He took off his first layer of defense (his pants), leaving him in his henley and boxer briefs. He settled into bed behind you and slipped an arm around your waist. He fit in snug against your back.

“Mmm,” he sighed. His lips pressed behind your ear, smiling there. “Feels nice.” 

“Mhmm,” you agreed.

He couldn’t see your smile, but you held his arm in place. For the first time in a while, you weren’t alone.

In the early morning, you woke up to warmth and closeness. The man in your bed snored lightly, mouth parted in sleep while he faced you. You smiled.

How could a man who felt dangerous, in more ways than one, also make you feel safe? It was a wonder. Though when an idea hit you, you carefully slid out of bed.

Russell eventually roused in his own time. He blinked awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stretched out his limbs in your very comfortable bed. This sure beat rusty motel springs.

He realized that he was alone in the room, but he heard you puttering around the house. He allowed himself to doze some more.

A few minutes later, you returned to greet him with a couple of mugs, drawing him back into the waking world with the rich smell of coffee.

“Aww yeah, that’s the stuff,” he said. He groaned as he slowly sat up.

You laughed and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he said. His voice was deeper and rougher with sleep, washing down your spine pleasantly.

He accepted the mug you offered him. He took a sip and hummed in pleasure at its bold flavor. It wasn’t as sweet as he usually liked it, but it was exactly what he needed right now.

“I just did a little sugar and creamer. That okay?” you asked. 

“It’s good,” he nodded. And you looked good, he noticed, with your bed-tousled hair and an open robe over your tank top and little shorts.  

“Do you want to meet Dory and Colter for breakfast?” you asked. “Dory texted me this morning.”

Russell’s brows shot up. 

“Colt stuck around?” he asked.

“Yeah, Dory asked him to stay at her place last night,” you said. Russell hummed in response. 

A bit of an awkward lull fell between you. You’d felt bolder yesterday in the hospital, but now, you weren’t entirely sure what you were doing with a man who just slept somewhat-but-not-altogether platonically in your bed.

“Um, I’ll just…get ready then,” you said, pointing to the bathroom. “You…take your time.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.”

He peeled back the covers and climbed out of your bed, away from the sheets that smelled like you. 

You watched him go when he headed across the hall back to Charlie’s room. You sighed and beat your hand against your own forehead in frustration. What the hell am I doing?

You’d literally invited him into your bed last night, but he hadn’t done anything more than hold you while you slept. It was incredibly kind, and it said a lot about him, despite his rough-around-the-edges exterior. You were just a little disappointed that he’d been a perfect gentleman about it all. 

You rolled your eyes at yourself. What did that say about you?

You shook your head and resolved to freshen up. There was still a cut that the ER nurse covered with a butterfly bandage above your brow. You cleaned it up and applied a new bandage. Then you put on some makeup to cover the ugly bruise on your cheek and the dark circles that lingered under your eyes.

God, look at me. You actually wouldn’t blame Russell for not being into you enough to make a move. 

A bit disheartened, you changed out of your pajamas to slip on a nice, but comfortable dress over your bra and underwear. Afterward, you paused to stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment. What exactly do you want here?

“Hey, uh—” Russell’s voice startled you, making you flinch. Maybe you were still jumpy.

He raised an apologetic hand. “Sorry. Just thought I’d ask if you want some toast or something. I don’t think my stomach can wait ‘til we meet up with Dory.”

You smiled faintly. “Sure, go ahead. Whatever’s there, you’re welcome to.”

Russell paused, tilting his head. There was something off with you. He saw it, and felt it. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you said, glancing away. 

Russell’s spidey senses began to tingle. He approached you and laid a hand on the counter, inches from yours. 

“You sure?” he said. He took in your hesitant face, then the pretty dress you had on. The color matched your eyes. Soulful eyes.

He smiled when you let him see them again.

“Can you see the bruises? I think I covered them up well enough,” you said. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror again, touching your jaw carefully. 

Russell’s hand raised to find your cheek, earning your attention with wider eyes. His thumb swept across your skin as you started to blush.

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a smile. “Don’t you worry about that.”

Your face warmed further, despite your smile. 

“Yeah, the makeup helps,” you quipped. 

“I didn’t say anything about makeup,” he replied. Though he grinned and made a show of looking closer at your face. “Although, have your lashes always been that damn long?”

You laughed, but he didn’t let go of you. Instead, his hand drifted down to your neck, cradling your jaw. His thumb brushed over your lower lip this time, smudging your lipstick a little. Your eyes met his, but they’d already lowered, to the path of his hand. You were tempted to nip at his thumb, or better yet, suck it into your mouth.

Perhaps he read the thought crossing your face. Because when those darkened eyes flicked up to yours, he finally bowed his head to kiss you.

You took in a deep breath, and you melted into his mouth with a moan of wanting. A craving from the depths of your heart, finally being fulfilled.

You didn’t let yourself think anymore. You gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. He cupped the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, and you let him in. You met his every kiss with the same fervor, claiming him right back, demanding just as much.

Your hands slid up his chest and helped him shrug off the green jacket first, then his shirt (Led Zeppelin this time). He hooked an arm around your waist and brought you flush against him, so he could turn you around and walk you back to the bed. 

You clung to his bare shoulders and savored the feeling of his warm, calloused hands burning up your thighs and ass, bunching the skirt of your dress. You helped him get it over your head and toss it onto the floor along with his clothes. 

As he held you by the waist, his gaze dipped for a moment to take you in, from bare thighs and hips and lacy panties, all the way up to your breasts cupped in your bra. Through panting breaths, you smiled and blushed at the heated depths of his green eyes. You felt like your heart was beating in and out of rhythm.  

But you managed to get a hold of your nerves long enough to drag your hands down his chest, down to his belt. You unclipped it for him and took your time in sliding the entire belt out of its loops. Then you let the brown leather fall to the floor. 

Russell raised a brow at you, smiling. Taking your challenge for what it was, he unbuttoned his jeans himself and aimed to step out of them, but he had some trouble when one of the pant legs got caught around his ankle and sock-covered foot.

“Shit,” he muttered as he stumbled a little. “Hold on.”

Unable to help a small giggle, you grabbed his left arm to help steady him. He hissed in pain, but he cleared his throat to cover it. You gasped as you realized what you’d done. You noticed then that he had a bandage tightly wrapped above his elbow, right below one of his tattoos.

“What’s this?” you asked in concern. You held his arm with both hands. “Did you get shot? Did you get this looked at when we were at the hospital?”

Russell staved off your questions with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay. This is old, just still healing up,” he said. 

You frowned up at him. “You got stabbed, shot, what? When did this happen? I thought you worked in private security.”

“A couple months ago. I got, uh, grazed. Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Sometimes the job gets a bit dicey.”

He could tell though, that you weren’t going to let it go easily. 

“Let me see,” you said, trying to peek under the bandage. Russell laughed and gathered you into his arms to stop your attempts. Your concern warmed him, but it wasn��t necessary. 

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I promise. Can we focus on the fun part, here?” he said.

Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but Russell saw the testiness in your eyes. He dipped down to kiss you, swallowing whatever snippy remark you were about to make.

You weren’t the only one giving into a craving here. Russell’s was bone-deep, molten in his blood, and getting to see you, to feel your soft body under his hands was already so much better than he’d imagined. His hold tightened on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin.

A shudder ran up your spine at his touch. You circled your arms around his neck and let him continue ravishing you, then laying you down onto the bed. 

While you were careful about avoiding the bandage, your hand did drift down his arm, and further still, to palm at the straining bulge pressing against you. And Jesus Christ, did it feel generous. He grunted at your touch and paused with his lips against your jaw. 

“Well hey there, cowboy,” you said, adopting a more sensuous tone. “I had a feeling you’d be packing. What’s that, a .45, or a 38 Special?”

Russell’s eyes blinked wide. Then he erupted with deep laughter that made his shoulders shake. Aside from throwing a punch, your brother must’ve taught you something about guns too. 

“Well thank you, kindly,” Russell said, putting on a bit of a southern drawl, just to tease you. “But you’re about to find out, naughty girl.”

You giggled as he began to kiss your neck, languid and sloppy. He blazed a wet trail down the column of your throat and between your breasts. His beard rasping against your skin made you shudder a little, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, you quite liked that a lot.

He slipped a hand underneath you to unclip the black lace. You arched into him so he had easier access. 

He slid the bra from your body and tossed it somewhere behind him. Just as he’d imagined, you had beautiful tits. His lips explored each of them in turn, squeezing supple flesh and rolling your sensitive, hardened nipples with his tongue and fingers. 

It was a prequel, you thought, for what talents that mouth might have further down. You had to moan just at the idea, your fingers clenching in his hair, but also at the sensations he was drawing from your body wherever he touched. The man clearly knew what he was doing.

He traveled lower still and laid slow, occasionally nipping kisses across your stomach, hips and thighs. His fingers hooked around your panties and lowered them down your legs. You felt his warm breath panting against your thigh. You glanced down at him and tensed in anticipation. 

“Still good?” he checked, squeezing your hip. You smiled and reached for his hand. Russell gave it to you, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand in affection. 

“I think I’m about to be,” you said cheekily.

He smirked. His other hand smoothed up the inside of your thigh and slipped past your folds, finding wetness that already coated his digits.

“Goddamn. You’re soaked,” he said, just a hint teasing. “Bet if I put my mouth on you, you’d fuckin’ drown me.”

Again, he stopped whatever smart quip you were about to levy at him next when his fingers found your clit. You let out a gasping moan instead.

He decided that he already loved that sound. He endeavored to pull it from you, again and again when he began working you open with his fingers and pumping them inside you. He enjoyed seeing you writhe and arch against his hand. Your hands squeezed his arms, his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself.  

His thumb circled and strummed your clit in a rhythm only he could hear in his head, until you couldn’t help biting your nails into his shoulders when you came. You shuddered your release as your core throbbed with warmth and slick around his fingers. 

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he said. His voice rasped deep with arousal. “Wouldn’t even mind if you did drown me.” 

You huffed in response, unable to form speech just now.

Next time, Russell thought. He slipped his fingers out of you and licked them clean, making your eyes widen. He smirked and stroked your thigh as you came down, a shuddering mess.

After taking a second to regain your breath, you pulled him down for a kiss, both grateful and fueled by a passion you couldn’t put into words. What you felt for this man was instinctual, from the moment you saw him. And yet, it was also so much more. It was raw, and real, and maybe even beautiful.

The thought spurred you on as your hands moved with purpose down his body. Your nails caught at the waistband of his boxer briefs as you tried to roll them down. You got it halfway down his thighs, enough to let his hardened length spring free. You bit your lip at the mere sight of him. Goddamn.

Your hand slid around his cock, near its weeping head. You used the beads of wetness there to work your way smoothly down to its base. Russell’s body tensed above you, just before he groaned low in pleasure.    

You pushed at his chest to have him let you up. 

“Your turn, baby,” you said. It would be one hell of a challenge to get your mouth down that beautiful 44 Magnum, but you were more than willing to try.

To your surprise, Russell shook his head and guided you back down.

“Let’s pin that one for next time too. Wanna be inside you already,” he said.

You blinked, but then you nodded in breathless agreement. He kissed you deeply, devouring you with his teeth grazing your bottom lip. His tongue soon slipped out to soothe it.   

“Condom?” he panted, between kisses. 

“Oh, yeah. Um…bathroom, bottom drawer,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure why you were whispering. 

“Okay, two seconds,” he said.

He left you in the bed, quite literally hot and bothered, and very naked. You crossed your arms over your breasts on reflex while you tried to recover. Your core was still tingling, and your heart was beating fast, though you couldn’t stamp out the smile forming on your face. 

You heard the sound of foil unwrapping and clothed rustling. When he came back to the bedroom, you finally got a full picture of what you were in for. You unconsciously licked your lips as your gaze dipped down his body, and the indeed impressive package at full mast, and full display. 

A grin curved his lips when he caught you staring. He climbed back onto the bed with just a bit of struggle with all the blankets coiled about. He pushed a heavy blanket out of his way, accidentally shoving it to the floor.

“Back to business,” he said.

“Oh, yeah,” you agreed, and you welcomed him back, sliding your hands up his arms and shoulders. You hooked your thigh around his hip as he found his way back between your legs. Holding his bearded face in your hands, you pulled him in for another kiss that reignited you both. 

He sunk his hand into your hair and treated you to another slow, deep kiss. Until your thigh tightening around his hip urged him to satisfy what you both had been wanting and waiting for.

He grabbed your thighs and angled you higher. Then he lined himself up at your entrance. Looking into your eyes, your breaths mingling together, he sheathed himself a little at a time. A keening moan fell from your lips.

He started with shallow thrusts, giving you time to adjust. But that in itself was a torturous tease. It made the coil in your lower belly start to tighten again. Pleasure began to thrum inside you, ever slowly. Your head tipped back into the pillows with a gasp.  

“God, Russell, please,” you uttered. You squeezed his arms on reflex, your heels digging into his ass. 

“I know, baby. Gonna fucking wreck you, I promise,” he said with a grin. 

You huffed in amusement. That was a hefty promise.

Though a moan tore from your throat when he finally bottomed out, stretching your inner walls. He groaned along with you. His lips fastened to your neck as he gave you deeper thrusts.

“You feel so good,” you said raggedly in his ear, raking your fingers through his hair. You felt every damn inch of him.

“You too, baby. So damn good,” he gritted out. “Tell me what you want.”

He raised your thigh a bit higher, his fingers pressing into flesh.

“Ugh, fuck,” you gasped, as he hit a particularly delicious angle. “Whatever you want to give me.”

“You sure about that?” Russell asked, panting against your neck. Your nails dragged down his back between the muscles in his shoulders, hard enough to earn a halting groan from him.

You nodded emphatically. “Yes!”

His lips hinted at a smile. “Okay, hold on."

Before you could even respond, he pulled out of you all the way, just so he could guide you over onto your stomach. He pulled you up onto your hands and knees. As he ran a hand down the gentle slope of your back and around the curve of your ass, you breathed harder in anticipation.

“So damn beautiful,” he muttered.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. You unconsciously bit your lip as your heart couldn’t help but swell at his words. Russell met you with a look that betrayed his desire, making your lower belly tremble as well.

He parted your cheeks and slotted himself between your thighs from behind. You once again felt the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, and then pushing back in with one deep plunge. Both of you let out moans of relief at the feeling.  

Pretty soon, he was pounding into you deeper and faster than before. Oh, fuck yes…

You clawed at the headboard, trying to find something to keep you stable. Russell’s arm slid around you for a solid support. You held onto him right back with one hand while he continued to drive into you, earning each and every sound coming out of your mouth. He’d finally angled you just right, so he could hit that special spot inside you with every thrust. Your pussy clenched on him in response, making him grunt in pleasure. 

“Fuck, you’re close. I can fuckin’ feel it,” he said, panting. He laid a biting kiss where your neck met your shoulder. You cried out in both pain and pleasure, your inner walls once again squeezing on him. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, breathless. “This time, you’re gonna come with me.”

You reached back and tangled your fingers into his hair. He held you to his chest and squeezed your breast a bit roughly. You uttered a wanton sound. You dragged his hand down your body to part your folds. You used his fingers to press against your clit. 

He picked up your hint, and then took control, massaging you with his fingers. There you began to tremble from the inside out. Warmth emanated from your core and spread outward, down to your toes as you came even harder on his cock. 

Russell wasn’t far behind. His voice joined yours as his body locked up, and he spilled hot into the condom. You almost wished he’d come freely inside you, so you could really feel him. Regardless, your body was boneless when he lowered you down onto the bed afterward.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

He chuckled and kissed your shoulder, before he fully pulled out. Panting for breath though you both were, you managed to twist onto your side and reach a hand for his cheek. Your fingers slipped higher from there, cupping the back of his neck. Your thumb swept tenderly across his cheek, and you guided him down for a proper kiss.

Russell obliged you, his lips meeting yours plush and wet. He brushed strands of your sweaty hair away from your forehead with affection.

Somehow, that last kiss was softer than all the rest.

One thing was for sure though. There was no way you two were making it to breakfast. 

“I kind of feel bad now,” you later confessed. 

You and Russell were taking a few minutes just to recover under the messy sheets. He held you while sitting up against your headboard. He almost craved a smoke. You’d given him a damn workout. 

He smirked at the thought. Admittedly, his mind was more on focused on the scenes replaying in his head than on what you were saying. 

“Dory doesn’t get to see you guys that often,” you continued, “and who knows how long Colter will seriously wait for us to get out of bed.”

Russell’s attention drifted back to you at that.

“Come on, it’s not like they know why we’re running late,” he said. You gave him a knowing look. 

“Are you kidding? They were already suspicious when you brought me home yesterday,” you replied with a laugh. 

Russell grinned and rubbed your arm. He knew you were probably right, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Yeah, well. That was damn worth it,” he said.

You smiled. You rolled your head over on his shoulder, so you could see his face, but you became contemplative as uncertainty crept in. You let in a breath to gather your courage, and you decided to take a chance. 

“You know, drug dealers aside, Laramie isn’t such a bad place to live,” you pointed out. “We’ve got a movie theater, a couple good outlet malls, a new Tex-Mex restaurant that just opened down the street. I’m gonna have to find a new bar though.”

Russell smiled at you. He knew what you were suggesting.

He sighed as his amusement faded. 

“Look, even if I stay…” he hesitated.

He looked into your eyes and saw the vulnerability there. You were being honest with him, putting your heart into his hands. The least he could do was be honest. He covered your hand where it rested on his chest.

“If I’m on a job, I could be gone weeks at a time. I won’t be able to tell you where I am or what I’m doing. That’s gonna be hard on you,” he said. 

He knew his friend Doug made it work with his wife, but their relationship wasn’t without friction because of the job he and Russell shared.

“I can handle it,” you said firmly. 

“You just had a little freak out over a scratch earlier,” Russell pointed out, with a gesturing hand at his bandaged arm. 

“Okay, that’s different,” you said.

You wouldn’t say it now, but there were things that still concerned you about his job. You had a strong feeling that "private security" wasn’t all it entailed. However, after what he’d done for you, after what he’d done for Charlie, you knew that Russell Shaw was a good man.

There was something good here, and you didn’t want to lose it this time. You shifted in his arms, so you could face him.

“Look, we can sit down and figure all that out,” you said. “But do you want to at least try? Or…am I reading this wrong?”

Russell stared back at you ruefully. He raised a hand to touch your cheek, grazing your soft skin with his fingers. 

“No, you’re not,” he said. 

In fact, what he felt already ran deeper with you than he’d like to admit. He let out a long breath through his nose. 

“Okay,” he said at last. “If we’re gonna do this, let’s do it right, I guess. I’ll book a motel here in town for now. If things go well, I can…I don’t know, find an apartment.”

Your answering smile broke him down further, even as it warmed him inside. You turned over to circle your arms around his neck, and as an added bonus, pressing your bare breasts against his chest. You kissed his cheek with a happy hum. He laughed at your enthusiasm. He also accepted your sweet path of kisses that led to his lips. 

He groaned when it became not so sweet, with your tongue slipping hotly against his. His hold on your hips tightened.

“Uh oh. Baby, we can’t do this now,” he chuckled, even though your hand was already wandering down his body and under the sheets. You both were supposed to be getting ready to meet his brother and sister for lunch. 

“Five minutes,” you said against his lips. All the while, you were pushing him back onto the bed. You began to kiss down his chest, and lower still.   

Russell snorted. Right. 

But he wasn’t about to argue with you. He had a gut feeling…one that made him almost certain.

He’d found where he wanted to be. 

AN: Well, then! I hope you enjoyed the "happy ending." 😘 I always get a bit sad at the end of a series, but thank you to everyone who's followed the ride on Every Second Counts. Let me know what you thought of how it all shook out here at the end between her and Russell! 💜

Read the Sequel:

Want more ESC? Read the next one-shot, Lost Time (18+):

Summary: When Russell takes longer than usual on a job out of town, you realize how hard it is to live half a life with him.

▶️ Keep Reading: Lost Time

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[onlyhereforthestories]

Merry Christmas Everyone! (Mapi Leon x Reader)

Day 18! Okay I struggled today. I am really not sure I like this one but I didn't ahve enough time to worry about it as it is due out now. I'm sorry!

The morning air was crisp, and as you hauled a large bag full of decorations into the locker room, your breath clouded in the chilly hallway. You were on a mission. Mapi had mentioned in passing how much she missed the cozy holiday feeling at the club, and you wanted to surprise her, and by association her teammates, with a festive touch right in their space. She'd been putting in extra hours with training, and a holiday surprise felt like just the thing to bring some cheer to her and the team that you loved very much.

You had spoken to some of the staff members who had given you permission to carry out your plan and a schedule of where the team would be at every point that day. With everyone out at practice, you had the locker room all to yourself. Grinning, you unzipped the bag, pulling out strands of colourful holiday lights, tiny decorated trees, and a small stocking for each player, each one carefully labelled with their name in glittery letters. You could already picture Mapi’s face when she walked in, her usually calm and collected expression breaking into one of those big, genuine smiles that you loved so much.

You started with the lights, stringing them across the tops of the lockers. Each twist and knot took a little more work than you'd anticipated the tangles not easy to get out so you could string them up, but seeing the twinkling lights with the main lights off was more than worth the effort.

After carefully arranging the little trees on a table by the door and the massage bench in the middle, you moved on to the stockings, hanging each one up in the players' lockers. You took extra time hanging Mapi’s in her locker, making sure it was perfectly placed. You had made an effort to make hers that little bit more special, it had a little more colour and was bolder than the others. Yes, you were slightly biased, but she deserved the best.

In each stocking, you placed small treats you'd picked out earlier that week. A candy cane here, a small bar of chocolate there, along with tiny ornaments that represented each player's style or inside jokes that only the team would get. For Mapi, you’d found a miniature black guitar ornament, nodding to her love of music, and a mini football that had her laughing face on it, a custom piece you knew would make her laugh.

With everything in place, you took a step back to admire your work, feeling a sense of accomplishment as the room glowed with warm holiday light. You imagined the looks on the players’ faces as they walked in, you really hoped it would bring them all a sense of holiday cheer, especially with how intense the season had been so far. And above all, you couldn’t wait to see Mapi’s reaction.

Just as you finished a final inspection, you heard footsteps echoing down the hall. Quickly, you ducked behind the door to the showers, hiding with a grin as you heard the team’s voices getting closer.

Mapi’s voice was clear as she led the way. “I swear, training was intense today. I’m ready to just collapse.”

A couple of her teammates murmured in agreement, and you could almost hear the fatigue in their voices. You held your breath, trying to stifle a giggle as the door swung open.

There was a moment of silence as they took in the transformed room, and then you heard it, a sound that was engrained into your brain, Mapi’s loud, joyful laugh.

“Oh my God! What is this?” she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine surprise and delight.

You peeked out from behind the lockers, watching as the team filtered in, their expressions morphing from exhaustion to amusement and joy. Mapi’s gaze swept over the room, taking in the lights, the stockings, the little trees. Her eyes sparkled with that familiar knowing glint as she moved closer to her stocking, reaching for the tiny guitar with a grin.

“This is amazing!” she laughed, looking around at her teammates, who were all chattering excitedly and digging through their stockings. “Who did this?”

Stepping out from your hiding spot, you raised a hand with a wide smile. “Surprise! Merry early Christmas, everyone!”

Mapi’s face lit up as she spotted you, her mouth curving into a grin of pure delight. “You did all this?” she asked, a hint of awe in her voice as she walked over to you.

“Guilty,” you replied, smiling as her teammates gathered around you, showering you with hugs and exclamations of thanks. “I just thought you all could use a little holiday cheer after all the hard work. I know your schedules have been packed this December and I thought you all deserved something special.”

Mapi shook her head, clearly touched. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she said, though you could tell she was thrilled. “But I’m so glad you did. This is amazing!”

She leaned in, her arm sneaking around your shoulder as she took in the decorations, her smile warm and grateful. “This is perfect. You even got stockings for everyone?”

You nodded. “It took a while to find the right ones, but I figured each of you would appreciate something done for just for you guys to enjoy.” You gestured toward her stocking. “And I may have picked a few things that were uniquely Mapi.”

Laughing, she reached inside her stocking, pulling out the small custom football with her laughing face on it. “This is ridiculous,” she chuckled, holding it up for her teammates to see. “Look at this! She’s got me perfectly captured here.”

Claudia, nudged her with a grin. “Well, that’s exactly how you look after you score, so it’s pretty accurate.”

Everyone laughed, and Mapi playfully rolled her eyes, setting the little ornament on top of her locker like a badge of honour. She turned back to you, her gaze soft. “Thank you,” she said, her tone sincere. “This really means a lot.”

You reached out, taking her hand and giving it a light squeeze. “You’re welcome. I know how much the team means to you, and I wanted to give you all something that shows just how much I admire that.”

Just then, one of the players started up a small Bluetooth speaker, and festive music filled the room. Within seconds, the atmosphere shifted, everyone’s energy reinvigorated by the cheerful decorations and the upbeat music. A few of the players started dancing, and Mapi couldn’t resist, pulling you into a twirl with a playful grin.

“You know, I wasn’t expecting to end my training day with a dance party,” she teased as she spun you around, her laughter contagious.

“Well, then I’ve done my job,” you replied, laughing as you let her guide you in a small, playful dance.

As the festivities continued, you and Mapi helped her teammates find the little surprises in their stockings. Each item brought a new wave of laughter, and you found yourself caught up in the joyous energy, surrounded by players who now felt like an extended family. Seeing them light up at each small detail, you knew it had been worth every second.

Mapi kept glancing over at you with a look of admiration and warmth that made your heart feel full. She nudged you gently, pulling you aside for a moment.

“You know, you’re amazing,” she said, her voice low so only you could hear. “All this it’s exactly what we needed. What I needed.” She paused, her gaze softening. “I don’t say it enough but thank you for always being there for me. For us.”

Her words made your cheeks flush, and you smiled, feeling the depth of her gratitude. “I’ll always be here, Mapi. You and the team deserve every bit of this, especially with all you’ve achieved together.”

She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, her head leaning against yours. “Best early Christmas gift ever,” she murmured, and you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of her words settle into your heart.

Between the music, laughter, and the festive decorations, the space had transformed into a place of joy, a reminder of how much love and care surrounded each of them. “I won’t ever forget this,” Mapi said softly, her gaze meeting yours with a hint of awe. “Thank you, for everything.”

You smiled, brushing a hand through her hair gently. “There’s more where this came from. I’ll make every Christmas with you just as special.”

Mapi leaned down, her lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss. When she pulled away, her eyes shone with gratitude and something deeper, something you knew was there but loved hearing in her own words.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered, her voice filled with warmth.

[advisorykitty]

Meal for all

Russian!Reader x Everyone

♡I have russian heritage myself and thought. this would be a cute fic!

------

The pile of blankets you called a bed—aka a large laundry basket stuffed with mismatched throws—creaked slightly as you stirred. It wasn’t the comfiest of arrangements, but somehow, it had become your spot in this strange house. Who needed a real bed when you had a cozy pile of blankets and a basket that made you feel like an oversized kitten? Well you kinda are one... anyway! You groaned, still half-asleep, as the morning sun filtered through the windows, lighting up the living room.

Your hair stuck to your face, damp from the long, drawn-out shower you'd taken the night before—fully clothed, as usual. You had a habit of soaking in the water with your MP3 player still blasting music in your ears, which had once again led to you falling asleep in sopping clothes.

The sound of your stomach growling snapped you out of your daze. Food. Right. You hadn’t eaten anything good in... well, you couldn’t remember the last meal that wasn’t a snack or a bite stolen off someone else’s plate. Pushing yourself up out of the basket, you rubbed your eyes and glanced at the others.

Nyen wasn’t there to glare at you, thank god, but the place was too quiet. It was almost peaceful, except for the faint noise of Randal’s game coming from another room. A memory popped into your head—something warm, filling, and... Russian. Something your grandma used to make on cold days like this. You couldn’t exactly make it the same way she did, but the thought alone made your mouth water.

Deciding today was the day to try cooking something, you grabbed the towel still wrapped around your wet hair and slumped into the kitchen, trailing water all the way there. Luther was already standing by the stove, just staring at it. Like he was thinking really hard about something that no one else could possibly understand.

“Master Luther,” you said, voice still groggy from sleep, “do you mind if I cook something today? Something Russian.”

Luther’s eyes flicked toward you, a slow, unnerving smile creeping across his face. He had a way of smiling that always left you wondering if he was genuinely happy or if he just enjoyed messing with people. “Russian, meine Katze?” he asked in that soft, almost monotone voice of his. “I wasn’t aware you had Russian roots.”

You scratched the back of your neck, shrugging. “Yeah, I never really talk about it, but my grandma- I mean , I made these cabbage rolls—golubtsi before. I was thinking of making them again. You know... for old times’ sake.”

Luther nodded slowly, his gaze lingering a little too long on your still-soaking clothes. “Golubtsi, ja? That sounds... intriguing. You may cook. But perhaps a change of attire first, yee?”

You blinked, glancing down at your dripping shirt and pants. “Uh... yeah. I’ll get on that.”

Before you could leave the kitchen, though, Nyen appeared in the doorway, looking as if he'd just stumbled upon a crime scene. His sharp eyes narrowed at the puddle forming under your feet.

“You’re still wet,” he grumbled, arms crossed, his tone borderline pissed. “How long are you gonna drip all over the damn house?”

“It’s water,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “Not like the place is gonna flood.”

Nyen’s scowl deepened, and you could practically hear the sarcasm dripping from his next words. “Sure. Because cleaning up after you definitely isn’t something I’d rather avoid.”

Before the situation could escalate, Luther’s soft voice cut through. “Nyen,” he said, his smile never faltering, “perhaps you should assist them in cooking, since you seem so concerned.”

Nyen flinched, his scowl shrinking just a bit. “Master Luther, I—” he began, but Luther’s gaze, though still calm, silenced him.

Nyen grumbled a few more unintelligible curses under his breath but finally gave in with a quiet, “Whatever.”

You turned back to the stove, already thinking about what you needed to get the food started. You caught a glimpse of Nyon hovering by the kitchen door, eyes flicking between you and the stove. His face was, as usual, totally unreadable, but he stepped a little closer.

“Golubtsi,” he said in his slow, accented voice. “You cook that?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. You know it?”

Nyon gave a slow nod, his hat casting a shadow over his eyes. “Da. Russian food. My... before, I ate that.”

For someone who didn’t usually talk, that was practically a full sentence. You grinned. “Well, if you don’t mind waiting, I’ll have it ready in no time. Want to help?”

Nyon blinked once, then twice. “Nyet.”

You chuckled. “Didn’t think so.”

---

As the food simmered on the stove, the kitchen began filling with the scent of cooked cabbage and spices. It wasn’t exactly a gourmet meal, but it was comforting in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. Nyon sat quietly at the table, eyes still fixed on the stove. Nyen hovered nearby, clearly impatient and less than thrilled about the whole situation.

Randal, still only seven, wandered into the kitchen, holding his game controller like it was glued to his hand. “You’re cooking?” he asked, genuinely puzzled. “Aren’t you, like... a cat? I thought cats hated water.”

You blinked. “Yeah, well, I’m a complicated cat.”

Randal stared at you, clearly not getting it, then shrugged and wandered off again, muttering, “Weird.” (despite being wierder himself)

Nyen, who had been leaning against the counter, shook his head and snorted, something about 'even randal thinking your wierd' or whatever he said.

You didn’t even bother responding to that, too focused on making sure the rolls didn’t burn. “Just wait. You’ll be thanking me when you taste this.��

Nyon’s blank expression didn’t change, but there was something almost like approval in his silence. For him, that was the equivalent of a thumbs-up.

---

Luther sat at the head of the table, watching with that unsettling, ever-present smile as you placed the dish in front of him. “Ah, golubtsi,” he mused, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “It looks wonderful, meine Katze.”

Nyen muttered something about “poison” under his breath but still pulled up a chair. You knew he’d eat it—he always did, even if he complained the whole time.

Nyon was already sitting at the table, his blank expression never wavering, but you could tell he was quietly pleased. He didn’t say a word, but his body language was a little more relaxed than usual. For Nyon, that was practically ecstatic.

Sebastian, awkward as ever, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn’t part of these kinds of gatherings usually, but Randal had dragged him in. “Russian food, huh?” he said, stiff as a board. “Never tried it... before.”

“First time for everything,” you grinned, serving him a portion.

Sebastian gave a stiff nod, clearly trying not to look like he wanted to bolt from the room. It was awkward, sure, but at least everyone was seated together.

The meal wasn’t anything fancy, but it brought a rare sense of normalcy to the house. Even Nyen, who had complained nonstop, was chewing thoughtfully, though he’d never admit he liked it.

Luther’s smile stayed plastered on his face as he ate. “Sehr gut,” he said softly. “A wonderful addition to our meals, meine Liebe.”

You smirked, sitting back in your chair. “See? Told you.”

You smiled and went back to eating your cooking. Hmm, some syrniki sound good right now...

[bruhnze]

PLAYING FOR KEEPS

CHAPTER 9 – New Years

Summary: Ona Batlle has had a crush on Lucy Bronze for a little while now… how will it go when she joins Barça? A 10 chapter series.

Warnings: Slow burn, angst, fluff, smut. All the things, but I give this as a complete warning for the whole series. Not every chapter involves all the warnings :).

masterlist

Dec 2023 – Spain

The drive back to Barcelona felt longer than usual for Ona.

Though her Christmas with her family had been full of warmth and love; she’d missed them, of course, and the joy of being home had its own kind of magic. But, this year something had been different. Her heart and her thoughts had been elsewhere the entire time.

They had been with Lucy.

She had imagined what Lucy’s smile looked like on Christmas morning, wondered what it would’ve been like to share Christmas eve with her, what they would do with presents, if they would do them. They had texted each other, sure, but it wasn’t the same. The ache of being apart had settled deep, a constant reminder that this was the person she wanted to share everything with.

So when she finally returned to Barcelona, it was like the world clicked back into place.

Lucy was waiting for her, standing by her apartment with Narla, a wide smile lighting up her face the moment she spotted Ona with her little travel bag.

For Ona it felt like coming home in every possible sense.

The days after had blurred together in a beautiful dream. The two of them had fallen into a rhythm that felt perfect. They woke up together, walked the dogs, picked up pastries from the little bakery they loved, eating them outside on a bench or stone ridge, it was perfect.

But even mundane things like tidying up their apartments or running errands, felt easy, fun even, because they were doing it together.

But beyond the day-to-day bliss, there was also an not-so-unspoken heat between them. They spent time of time… uhm.. between the sheets, or.. in the shower, or.. on the couch.. or wherever else the moment led them. Every second together felt charged, full of a amount of love that they couldn’t seem to contain. It was like the outside world had stopped existing, leaving only the two of them in this perfect, intimate bubble.

..

Today was different, though.

It was December 31st. The last day of the year. Yesterday they had discussed some plans to end this year and start 2024 perfectly.

Ona stirred first, blinking as the soft morning light filtered through the curtains in Lucy’s bedroom. The warmth of Lucy’s arm draped over her waist made her smile as she carefully shifted to face her.

Lucy was still sound asleep, laying on her side, her mouth slightly parted, looking perfectly at peace. Ona couldn’t help but feel a wave of affection wash over her, watching the rise and fall of Lucy’s chest.

She gently brushed a few strands of hair from Lucy’s face, letting her fingertips graze her cheek. Lucy stirred slightly but didn’t wake. Ona smiled to herself, savoring the moment.

For a minute, it was as if time had slowed, all that mattered was Lucy. The woman she loved. The more she looked at this beautiful face, the more she was sure she wanted to spend the rest of her life waking up with this view.

As Ona’s mind drifted, thinking about how tonight would be the last night of the year and how they’d spend it together, Lucy’s arm tightened around her, pulling her in. Lucy blinked sleepily, a lazy grin tugging at her lips as she spotted Ona gazing at her.

“Mmm… morning,” Lucy mumbled, her voice husky with sleep. She rolled on top of Ona, burying her face in Ona’s neck. “Do we have to get up?”

“Yes, we do.’’ Ona chuckled softly, running her fingers through Lucy’s hair. ‘’We’ve made plans, remember? We have to get things ready for tonight.”

Lucy let out a soft groan, refusing to let go just yet. “We could just stay in bed all day,” she murmured, placing a gentle kiss on Ona’s collarbone. “Celebrate it our own way.” She said teasingly, rolling her hips against Ona playfully.

Ona rolled her eyes, a heavy chuckle sounding in her throat as she pressed a kiss to Lucy’s forehead. “We can’t. The dogs are going to revolt if we don’t walk them soon. Besides, we’ve got to go to the shop still, cook, clean up, eat, celebrate.” Ona trailed her fingers down Lucy’s back, ‘’but.. if you still have energy left after all of that...’’ She said suggestively, squeezing Lucy’s ass.

Lucy groaned again but sat up, reluctantly letting go of Ona. “Fine,” she sighed dramatically, “but only because I love you.”

Ona grinned. “I like that answer.”

Lucy chuckled, still sitting on top of Ona. Her eyes roamed Ona’s face, as if she had something to say.

“What?,” Ona asked with a smile.

Lucy reached down, brushing a hand through Ona’s hair. “I love you…” she paused, a small smile tugging at her lips, “and I have something for you.”

Ona blinked, her curiosity piqued. “Oh?”

Lucy shifted, climbing of her girlfriend, reaching over to the nightstand and pulling out a small, neatly wrapped box. “I was going to give it to you for Christmas, but, well… we both had to be with our families. So, I saved it for the first next special day.”

Ona propped herself up on one elbow, looking at Lucy with a mixture of surprise and affection. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to,” Lucy replied softly, handing her the gift with a warm smile. ‘’Consider it a new years gift.’’

Ona took the box, her fingers lightly tracing the edges of the wrapping before carefully untying the ribbon. She lifted the lid and her breath caught slightly as she revealed a beautiful watch, sleek and elegant, with a subtle touch of gold around the edges.

“Luce…” Ona whispered, her eyes sparkling as she admired the gift. “Wow, I- ..thank you, it’s beautiful.”

Lucy smiled, propping herself up on her elbow next to Ona to be closer. “I saw it and thought of you. I wanted to give you something that you could wear. A little reminder of me, even when we’re apart.”

Ona’s eyes softened, she looked at the watch before looking back at Lucy. “I love it. I love you.”

Lucy smiled at her girlfriends reaction, she reached out, running her hand gently along Ona’s arm. “Here, let me help you put it on.”

Ona held out her wrist, her heart fluttering as Lucy’s fingers brushed lightly against her skin, fastening the watch with gentle precision. The simple act, Lucy’s soft touch and the quiet intimacy of the moment as they were silent until the strap was secured. It made Ona feel like everything in the world was exactly where it should be.

"But... I didn’t get you anything," Ona confessed softly, her voice tinged with guilt.

Lucy smiled, her hand sliding from Ona’s wrist to her cheek, caressing it gently. "You didn’t have to. We never talked about gifts, I just wanted to. Besides, you’re the best present I could ask for."

Ona’s heart melted at Lucy’s words. She leaned in, closing the distance between them until their lips met in a slow, tender kiss. Lucy’s sweetness overwhelmed her. Ever since that day of confessions, they had shared everything, no more hiding their feelings. Ona had realized just how much Lucy had been holding back and how deeply she felt for her. While they both were in love, Ona wondered if Lucy’s feelings were even stronger, sometimes almost overpowering in their intensity, like how Lucy could look at her so adoring it made her feel like she was the most precious gem stone or something. Their kiss lingered, deepening as they got lost in the warmth and affection they had for one another.

"I love you," Ona whispered, her forehead resting gently against Lucy’s as they broke the kiss, their breaths mingling.

"Mhm, I love you too," Lucy murmured, her thumb softly stroking Ona’s cheek. "I’m so happy you're my girlfriend now."

"Mmm, I am yours," Ona replied, smiling as she gently pushed Lucy onto her back, settling on top of her. "And you are mine."

Lucy groaned as Ona began to kiss her neck. "You’re definitely not acting like you want us to get out of bed."

‘’A few minutes more wont hurt.’’ Ona said, already breathing heavy as she trailed down Lucy’s neck, ‘’just don’t wake the dogs.’’

Lucy laughed, ‘’No, lets go do the things you wanted to do, hmm, go to the shop.’’ She started teasingly, ‘’cook, clean, celebrate and if you still have energy after alllll of that.’’ She squeezed Ona’s ass with both hands.

Ona propped herself up, looking at Lucy indignantly with an open mouth. ‘’Oh, you’re bad.’’

Lucy smirked, ‘’now you know how it feels.’’ She whispered before disappearing out of the bed.

..

Their morning routine was as effortless at it was the couple of days before. They got dressed and made the dogs ready for their morning walk.

The air outside was crisp and cool, the faint winter sun casting a glow over the city as they strolled along the quiet streets. During their walk they were talking about what food they wanted to make for the evening.

By the time they got back to Lucy’s apartment, they were ready to dive into everything. Ona took her coat and shoes off, and they let the dogs settle in their favorite spots while Lucy grabbed her iPad to help make a shopping list.

Lucy sat at the kitchen table, the iPad and a piece of paper in front of her. ‘’Oh babe can you-

‘’Grab a pen?’’ Ona chuckled, taking place on Lucy’s lap, with a pen in hand. ‘’Ofcourse.’’

Lucy smiled, wanting to take it from Ona. ‘’Thank y-

‘’Nuh-uh,’’ Ona shook her head, ‘’the cost is a kiss.’’

‘’Oh really?’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’That’s a bargain, I’ll take a hundred then.’’

..

After a – not-so-short – distraction they refocused.

Together they scrolled through recipes and ideas.

“Ohhh, something like this charcuterie board?” Lucy asked, her finger hovering over a mouth-watering image of cheeses, olives, and slices of different sausages.

“Yes,” Ona nodded. “That one looks very good, it has some sweet things too.” She grabbed Lucy’s arm, in a moment of eureka ‘’ohhh, can we go by the chocolate shop.’’ She looked at Lucy with puppy eyes, ‘’get those truffle chocolates.’’

Lucy chuckled. “Ofcourse,’’ Leaning in to kiss her, ‘’anything my baby wants.” She murmured against Ona’s lips.

They continued planning out their list, sorting their groceries in order of the stores they were visiting. Every now and then, Lucy would kiss Ona’s temple or playfully bump her shoulder, drawing out a laugh from Ona. She was completely hooked. She was just so perfect.

“You’re distracting me,” Ona whined playfully, her finger hovering over the screen as Lucy kissed her cheek again.

“I can’t help it,” Lucy grinned. “You’re too cute when you’re in this.. focused mode.’’

With the shopping list finally complete, they bundled up again and headed out to the different stores.

The shopping street was bustling, full of other last-minute people preparing for their own New Year’s Eve celebrations, but Lucy and Ona didn’t even notice as they moved easily through the shops.

“Should we get a bottle of champagne?” Lucy asked, pointing at the liquor store.

Ona gave her a playful look. “I thought we said we weren’t going overboard.”

Lucy grinned and pulled Ona in the store’s direction anyways. “It’s New Year’s, we can have a little toast on us.”

Ona shook her head, laughing. “Alright.”

As they made their way through the streets and the stores, they found themselves stealing little moments. Some small kisses here and there, quiet whispers and at all times they would be connected, either interlinking their pinkies or Lucy guiding her with a hand on the small of her back, they couldn’t go a second without. It felt like they were in their own world, moving in sync.

..

When they got back to Lucy’s place, the dogs greeted them with excited barks, tails wagging as they darted around the apartment.

Laughing, Lucy set the grocery bags down and gave Narla a quick scratch behind the ears while Ona bent down to ruffle Coco’s fur.

After unpacking the groceries and washing their hands they dove into prepping the food. Lucy stood at the counter chopping vegetables, while Ona made slices of the cheeses and fuets.

They danced around each other effortlessly, moving in perfect sync, stealing quick glances and smiles between tasks. Every now and then, one of them would sneak a bite of food into the other’s mouth, giggling as they fed each other little samples of what was to come.

 “You know,” Lucy said, looking around the kitchen as Ona finished setting up the charcuterie board, “this place is kind of a mess.” They had prepared an home-made soup, dips and spreads, sliced a baguette and their master project was the charcuterie board.

Ona raised an eyebrow and looked around as well. Not only the kitchen was a mess but the apartment, while cozy, was still marked by the remnants of Lucy’s family visit. It wasn’t a chaotic mess, but it definitely didn’t scream ‘romantic night in.’

“You’re not wrong,” Ona laughed softly, finishing up the last touches of a spread and putting it in the fridge. “We could move this party to my place if we want a proper clean slate.”

Lucy wiped her hands on a towel, smiling as she glanced over at Ona. “Exactly what I was thinking. We’ll finish here, pack everything up, and head over then. Have our romantic night at your place.”

Ona grinned, stepping closer until she had Lucy pinned between herself and the counter. “Romantic night, hmm?”

Lucy’s breath caught slightly, her smile widening. She placed her hands on Ona’s hips, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed together. “Oh yeah,” Lucy said, her voice low and playful, “I’ve got plans.”

Before Lucy could lean in to kiss her, Ona pulled back just enough to tease, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Any specific plans you’d like to share?”

Grinning, Lucy cupped the back of Ona’s neck, her thumb brushing lightly over her skin. “Let’s just say you won’t be bored.” Her voice dropped to a soft whisper.

Ona chuckled, her lips brushing against Lucy’s, but she didn’t close the distance just yet. “Okay.. I’m curious,” she murmured, before finally leaning in to kiss Lucy.

..

They worked together to finish preparing the food, arranging everything carefully in containers so they could transport it. As they packed the charcuterie board and desserts into bags, Lucy grabbed a backpack and went to the bedroom to pack some nice clothes.

“I’m bringing something nice to wear,” Lucy said, seeing Ona’s curious look. “We did all this effort so we might as well go all out now.”

Ona smiled as she packed up the food. “Okayyy, I like it.”

Once everything was packed and ready, they gathered up the dogs, grabbed their bags, and headed out the door.

As they stepped into Ona’s place a minute later, the clean space felt welcoming. They put their things in the fridge and on the kitchen counter, ready to be eaten in a few hours.

“You think we have enough food?” Lucy asked laughing sarcastically, folding the empty bags.

Ona chuckled. “Well… I don’t know’’ she teased back, ‘’with you here.. hm, we might have to order food after this petite appetizer is finished.’’

..

After a quick walk around the block with the dogs, Ona and Lucy found themselves back on the couch.

The golden glow of the evening sun filtered through the windows, casting the apartment in a soft, dreamy light. They had some time left before dinner, though they still needed to shower and change into their nicer clothes.

The day spent together in the kitchen had left them both feeling tired apparently, and before long, they were curled up in each other’s arms. Ona laying comfortably on top of Lucy, both of them sinking into the warmth of the couch, nearly dozing off.

The steady rhythm of Lucy’s heartbeat beneath her cheek was enough to lull Ona into a light, peaceful haze.

That is, until Ona’s eyes suddenly fluttered open. “I have to pee,” she muttered quietly.

She carefully shifted off Lucy, trying not to disturb her too much, but Lucy woke up instantly, blinking at Ona with sleepy curiosity. “What are we going to do?” she asked, her voice slightly groggy.

Ona chuckled, shaking her head. “We aren’t going to do anything. You can stay right here. I’ll be back in a second.”

But Lucy wasn’t having it. She sat up, immediately following Ona. “Nooo,” Lucy whined playfully, reaching for her hand. “I want to be with you.”

Ona’s soft chuckle turned into a laugh as she gently nudged Lucy back onto the couch. “I’m just going to the bathroom. I think you’ll survive.”

Lucy flopped back dramatically, crossing her arms. “If you’re gone too long, I’ll die of loneliness.”

With a teasing roll of her eyes, Ona smiled and headed toward the bathroom, leaving Lucy behind with a pout.

A few minutes later, Ona returned and slipped back into her spot on the couch, settling against Lucy once again. They resumed their earlier position, Ona resting comfortably on top of her, their limbs entwined, the familiar warmth of Lucy’s body instantly soothing.

But as they cuddled, the soft conversation between them slowly shifted. Ona pressed some gentle kisses to Lucy’s neck, and the mood in the room began to change. Lucy sighed, her fingers brushing lightly against Ona’s arm, the casual touch making her shiver.

Ona shifted, leveling her face with Lucy’s. They looked in to each others eyes a couple of seconds before all they could think about was kissing eachother.

The kisses deepened, and Lucy’s hands found Ona’s back, pulling her closer. Their lips met in a slow, deliberate rhythm, growing more intense with every passing second. Their hands started to wander, exploring familiar territory with renewed urgency, and soon, their breaths came heavier.

After a few minutes Ona pulled back slightly, her lips hovering just above Lucy’s, “hmm… I missed you.” She hummed slightly out of breath but with a cute smile, her cheeks slightly pink from the intense make out.

Lucy grinned, her voice playful as she teased, “See? You should’ve let me come with you to the bathroom.”

Ona shook her head, rolling her eyes affectionately. “No, I mean I missed you today.”

Lucy frowned slightly, confused. “We were together all day, though.”

Ona leaned in again, brushing her lips softly over Lucy’s before whispering against her skin. “Not like this… I missed you.”

A slow smile spread across Lucy’s face as she caught on to what Ona meant. “Well,” Lucy murmured, her voice low and teasing, “you did say if we had any energy left…”

With a swift movement, Lucy flipped their positions, pinning Ona gently beneath her on the couch. “And we still need to shower anyway,” she added with a grin, her lips brushing against Ona’s neck.

Ona closed her eyes, her breath catching as Lucy’s hand started to toy with the waistband of her comfy pants. “Mhm we do,” she whispered, her body already responding to Lucy’s touch.

…

Jana paced nervously outside Ona’s apartment building, her phone still clutched in her hand. “Yeah but it’s been two days,” she muttered.

Vicky crossed her arms. “Maybe she’s just having a quiet start to the year. You know how she is sometimes.”

“Yeah, but not responding at all? That’s not like her,” Salma added, her brow furrowed. “We just need to check in, make sure she’s okay.”

Jana nodded, determination setting in. “Let’s just ask the doorman. Maybe he knows if she’s home.”

The three of them made their way to the entrance, where the doorman greeted them politely. “Good afternoon, how can I help you?”

“We’re looking for Ona Batlle,” Jana said, flashing a bright, reassuring smile. “We’re friends with her. She hasn’t been answering her phone, so we just want to check in.”

The doorman raised an eyebrow, glancing between them. “Miss Batlle? I’m afraid I can’t just give out information, you understand…”

Salma pulled out her phone, flipping through her camera roll before holding up a picture of the four of them together, laughing during one of their many group outings. “See? We’re really her friends. We know she’s a footballer,’’ She laughed, ‘’We are footballers too. We just want to make sure she’s alright.”

The doorman hesitated, studying the photo before nodding slowly. “Miss Batlle is home. She’s been in for a couple of days now, with… her friend.”

Jana and Salma exchanged curious glances, while Vicky leaned in. “Her friend?”

“Yes,” the doorman said, sounding uncertain. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.’’ He cringed.

The trio exchanged intrigued looks. A friend? Was Ona hiding someone from them? Was this why she cancelled going to the party tonight with just one simple text?

“We could just go in and check, right?” Salma suggested, her voice playful now, eyes gleaming with curiosity. “We don’t want to disturb her if she’s busy, but we…’’ she looked at her two friends, ‘’want to surprise her.. she was going to this party with us tonight and it would be nice if I we can surprise her here, give her our best new years wishes.”

The doorman hesitated again, but Jana was quick to reassure him, her smile wide. “We won’t cause any trouble. We’ll just pop in, say hi, and leave her be. Promise.”

With some reluctance, and after a few more reassurances, the doorman sighed, grabbing the spare key to Ona’s apartment from the little office behind him. “Alright, but I expect this key back within the hour.”

“Of course!” Vicky grinned, already eager to get inside and satisfy her curiosity.

As Jana, Salma, and Vicky made their way up to Ona’s apartment, their playful banter filled the hallway.

“Do you think she’s been hiding a new girlfriend from us this whole time?” Salma teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Either way, we’re about to find out,” Vicky added, holding the spare key in her hand, the excitement building as they imagined finally meeting this mystery friend who had kept Ona so occupied.

‘’Honestly, I thought she was going to get something with Lucy.’’ Jana said, ‘’those two have so much chemistry.’’

Vicky chuckled, ‘’OMG, what if it is Lucy.. the mystery friend.’’

Salma shook her head chuckling, ‘’no way, Lucy lives in this building too, the guy would’ve known her name, and by the way, isn’t Lucy like way older?’’

‘’Age is just a number baby.’’ Vicky said, laughing loudly.

‘’Ew,’’ Jana shook her head, ‘’as a minor you shouldn’t say that bro, you are not dating someone that’s above 18.’’

Vicky shrugged, ‘’What if their hot.. besides isn’t your girlfriend like 5 years older?’’

Jana blushed, ‘’yeah but we met when we were both of legal age.’’

‘’Anyways, I bet it’s a hot chick.’’ Salma said, ‘’if Ona doesn’t even answers her phone for two days.. she must be very distracting.’’

‘’OMG, what if we walk in on them fucking.’’ Vicky chuckled.

‘’VICKY!’’ Salma and Jana hissed, nearing Ona’s apartment.

It was strange for the group of three, they had only been here a couple of times. Always with Ona leading the way. But they knew which door it was.

They stayed silent as Salma carefully opened the door.

They followed eachother. Jana stepping inside first. “Ona! Surprise!” she called, chuckling to herself. “We figured you lost your phone so we came to grab you, to drag you and your secret friend to the party!”

The trio giggled, quickly walking further into the apartment, trying to stifle their laughter. “Ona, are you home? We miss you!” Vicky added, her voice lilting with amusement.

It was a bit creepy to just walk in to someone’s house, even if it was their friend’s. It felt invading.

As they stepped into the living room, all three came to a sudden halt, the scene before them causing their jaws to drop.

Ona was laid out on the couch, her body arching under Lucy, who was kneeling between her legs, very clearly in the middle of… a very intimate moment. Ona’s fingers were tangled in Lucy’s hair, her head tipped back, completely lost in the moment, unaware of her friends' entrance. Whimpering as Lucy was groaning between her legs.

The room was thick with the unmistakable tension of the moment, and for a split second, none of them could speak. It was Jana who broke the silence, unable to keep it together any longer.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.”

Ona’s eyes flew open, and her entire body jolted in shock. “Holy shit!” she gasped, pushing Lucy’s shoulders gently as she whipped her head around toward the three people, her face instantly turning beet red.

Lucy, who had been too focused to notice anything, jumped up in surprise, quickly reaching for the nearest blanket and throwing it over Ona. “Jesus!” she muttered, scrambling to get up from the floor, her own cheeks turning pink.

Jana, Salma, and Vicky stood frozen, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, until Vicky let out a loud, hysterical laugh. “I knew it!” she cackled, covering her face as she doubled over.

Jana blinked, her shock quickly melting into a grin. “We fucking knew it!” she exclaimed, pointing a finger between the two of them. “Finally, you cleared things up between you two.”

Ona buried her face in her hands, letting out a loud groan. “Oh my god, you guys—why are you here?!” she squeaked, her voice muffled by her hands.

Jana shook her head, trying not to laugh, but failing miserably. “We were worried! You haven’t been on your phone for two days, even for you that’s long, we thought something had happened. Turns out, something did happen, just not what we expected.”

Salma nodded, her eyes still wide. “I can’t comprehend this. You.. with Lucy?!.”

Lucy, still blushing, cleared her throat, managing a sheepish smile as she adjusted the blanket around Ona. “Yeah, well, surprise?”

“You know what’s surprising?” Jana chimed in, still laughing. “That it took you guys this long to get here. We’ve all been watching you two moon over each other for months.”

Ona’s mortification was clear, her cheeks still burning as she peeked out from behind her hands. “I hate all of you,” she muttered.

“Come on, we’re just happy for you,” Vicky teased, stepping forward and grinning. “Though next time, maybe give us a heads-up before we… you know, get traumatized.”

Lucy cringed, ‘’Fucking hell, Vicky, I hope you didn’t see anything.’’

Salma and Jana looked at eachother, ‘’so for us two it isn’t traumatic?’’

Ona pulled the blanked over her head, ‘’It is traumatic for all five of us, please leave.’’ She muttered from under the blanked.

Salma smirked. “Yeah, I guess we’ll leave you two to… finish this... but we expect you guys tonight at the party.”

Vicky burst into laughter again, while Ona just groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “Please go away. I’ll see you guys next year, when everyone has forgotten this all.”

With a final laugh and a few knowing looks exchanged between the friends, they began to back out of the apartment, still chuckling to themselves as they left, not believing what just happened.

As the door clicked shut, Ona let out another long groan, burying her face in Lucy’s chest. Who had dropped besides her on the couch. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Lucy wrapped her arms around Ona, kissing the top of her head. “Training will be horrible. But at least the news is out now I guess, we don’t have to be secret anymore.”

Ona peeked up at her, her expression still mortified. “Yeah, but did it have to be like that?”

Lucy smirked, brushing a strand of hair from Ona’s face. “Hey, at least they seemed happy for us, well… mostly.”

Ona sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I’ll never live this down.”

“We’ll be fine,” Lucy said sympathetic, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Ona’s lips. “Besides, we’ve got more important things to focus on right now.” She said, removing the blanket from Ona.

masterlist

[alxtiny]

A time like back then | Kang Yeosang x Reader

Synopsis: where you take yeosang on a birthday adventure

Pairing: kang yeosang x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1.3k

Notes: Bruh i love this man so much, happy birthday Yeosang 🫡

masterlist

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You stirred awake,. The morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred awake, excitement bubbling within you. Today was a special day—Yeosang’s 25th birthday. Silently, you slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him just yet. You had everything meticulously planned.

After preparing a quick breakfast, you crept back into the bedroom. You leaned over Yeosang, your heart fluttering with excitement as you pressed a series of delicate kisses to his cheeks, nose, and finally, his lips. He blinked his eyes open slightly, closing them again after seeing you, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips and the warmth of the bed cocooning him in comfort.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you whispered, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead and smoothing down his wild bed hair.

Yeosang's eyes fluttered open, and he grinned sleepily at you. "Morning, love."

"Happy birthday, Sangie!" you exclaimed softly.

“Thank you,” he murmured, stretching lazily. “What’s all this excitement about?”

You grinned, hands hiding behind your back, "Get dressed! We're going on an adventure today."

He sat up straighter, a puzzled look crossing his face. "Adventure?"

"Just trust me," you said, pulling out the neatly pressed high school uniform you had rented for the day, from behind your back.

Yeosang raised an eyebrow but didn't question you further. After a quick shower, he donned the uniform, looking adorably confused yet handsome. You joined him at the table for breakfast, enjoying the spread of French toast adorned with whipped cream, blueberries, and other toppings that you had prepared earlier.

"Wahh, This tastes amazing, love," Yeosang said between bites. "Thank you."

You smiled, pleased he liked it. "You're welcome. Now, let's get going. We have a long day ahead of you," you said, winking at him.

As you were about to leave, you noticed Yeosang's tie was crooked. Grinning, you stepped closer, fixing it for him. Your fingers brushed against his chest, and you leaned in, giving him a long, sweet kiss.

"Perfect," you said, admiring your work.

Yeosang's cheeks flushed slightly. "Thanks."

You slung a small school bag you had packed, to complete your outfit of course, and left the apartment. You led him to your car, instructing him to put on a blindfold. He gave you a quizzical look but complied, trusting you completely. The drive was filled with lighthearted chatter and laughter as Yeosang tried to guess where you were taking him. Finally, after about an hour, you reached your destination.

…..

Getting out of the car, you guided Yeosang outside, hands over his eyes for good measure. "Surprise!" you exclaimed, as you stopped at a distance, removing his blindfold.

Yeosang blinked a few times, adjusting to the light, and then burst into laughter. "Lotte World? So this is what you were planning!"

You beamed at his reaction. "I thought it would be fun to relive our high school days."

You both showed your passes at the entrance, you were almost shaking with excitement, it had been way too long since you had last been here. As you walked in, hand in hand, you marvelled at how everything seemed unchanged since your school days. A time like that was surely missed. The sight of the brightly coloured rides and the bustling atmosphere brought back a flood of memories, it was all just so wonderfully nostalgic.

You spent the day exploring every nook and cranny of the amusement park, trying out every ride you could find. First, you went on the slow, fun rides like the merry-go-round and the carousels, giggling like children. Then, you went up the faster roller coasters and pirate boats, holding hands the entire time, neither brave enough to let go, and the adrenaline rush made you both feel so alive and carefree.

You even indulged in various snacks and drinks, trying everything from churros to cotton candy, sharing bites and feeding each other with playful smiles. Yeosang even went as far as to win you plushies, at the very obviously rigged game stalls, but with determination like his there’s no way you would go back home empty handed. He did end up winning, with much effort, but the smile on your face was worth every bit.

As the day began to wind down, you made your way to the photobooth. You both crammed into the small space, giggling like teenagers in love. You took a series of goofy pictures, sticking out your tongues and making funny faces. There were a few cute shots of you kissing each other on the cheeks, and just as the last picture clicked, you leaned in and kissed Yeosang on the lips, capturing the absolutely perfect candid moment.

Yeosang looked at the printouts endearingly, his eyes sparkling with joy. "These are perfect," he said, looking at you with love filled eyes.

You blushed under his gaze. "I'm glad you think so."

…..

As the sun set, you drove back to your apartment, the energy of the day slowly fading into a comfortable exhaustion. Sleepy yawns escaped the two of you as you made your way up to your apartment, arms laden with a few plushies and cute headbands adorning your heads. As you stepped inside, Yeosang was met with another surprise. The soft melody of "Happy Birthday" filled the room, and the rest of the Ateez members emerged from the kitchen, holding a cake shaped like a little puppy with candles on it.

Yeosang's eyes widened in surprise and amazement, as a big smile made its way to his face. He blinked back tears as he made his wish and blew out the candles, everyone cheering and clapping.

"Happy birthday, Yeosang!" they chorused, gathering around for hugs and congratulations.

The evening was filled with laughter, music, and plenty of food and drinks. The guys shared stories and jokes, from their time on tour and about schedules of their recent comeback, lighting up the room with laughter, Yeosang being the centre of all love and adoration.

Wooyoung told you about the time when he and Yeosang were in high school and all the trouble they got up to together, making Yeosang blushed and hid his face while you giggled in amusement. As the night wore on, one by one, they began to leave, each giving Yeosang one last birthday hug.

…..

Once everyone had left, you finally had a moment alone with Yeosang. You led him to the couch and handed him a small box with a bow wrapped around it.

"You've already done so much for me today," he said, looking at you with a mix of gratitude and curiosity. "Is there more?"

You giggled. "Of course. Open it."

He untied the bow and opened the box to reveal a beautiful silver necklace with a small pendant engraved with your initials. His eyes shone with happiness.

"I love it," he said in awe, grinning widely. "Thank you so so much, my love."

You pulled down your collar to reveal a matching necklace with his initials on it. "Now we'll always have a part of each other," you said softly.

Yeosang's eyes filled with emotion. "I love you," he whispered, pulling you into a tight hug, his voice soft in your ear. “Thank you for making today so special, for being by my side through everything. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm grateful every single day.”

"I love you too," you replied, peppering his face with kisses. "Happy birthday, Yeosang."

He cuddled you close, the warmth of his embrace making you feel content and loved. The day had been perfect, and as you drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, you knew that this was just one of many beautiful memories you would create together.

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

[waklman]

Bubbles

summary: bradley flushes out your eyes when he blinds you with chlorine during swim practice one night.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x female reader.

warnings: no use of y/n. fluff, suggestive jokes. 18+ blog in general.

word count: 1k

olympic swimmer au

take your marks masterlist

"I won’t be able to see again,” you sniff, mourning the loss of your eyesight. 

“Sweetheart, it’s just chlorine,” Bradley seals his lips together to hide a smile. With your eyes scrunched shut, he’s ushering you inside the empty locker room, leading you towards the line of open showers. 

While you knew that you’d eventually end up being dunked into the pool during your boyfriend’s late night swim practice—you anticipated that he’d do it while you had on your goggles at least.

But, no. The conniving gold medalist had the nerve to ask for a kiss as a pretense to pull you into the chemically treated water. And of course you were going to come waddling over because honestly, who wouldn’t? 

The lazy smile on his face sparkled under the glow of the underwater led lighting system, and his biceps increased in size because he had been doing backstrokes for the last hour.

If you didn’t have the confirmation that he was human, you would’ve assumed he was some sort of siren—luring your unsuspecting self closer towards him. 

“But, hey. You’re still kinda sexy doggy paddling away from me, blind and all.” He unhelpfully adds on, guiding you by the hips.

Nudging the back of your ankle, he steers you away from the bench you’re about to walk into. “Watch where you’re goin’ baby.”

“I can’t watch! I’m blind!”

“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell when you were screaming that earlier,” he puts forth, deep voice practically dripping in a thick coat of sarcasm. 

All he gets in response from you is something akin to a growl, as he spins you around to face him, backing you up into the tiny shower that barely fits you both.

As of right now, he has no plans to peel your swimsuit off, so the curtain stays open. 

Now standing under the shower head together, Bradley reaches to twist the knobs behind you. Leaning his head in, he blocks the water from hitting the top of your head. “Open. And I mean your eyes, not your mouth.” 

“I-I know that!” 

In a rush to get the pain over with, your eyes shoot open and you lean back, giving your smirking boyfriend a view of the irritation he caused to your poor eyeballs.

Lifting his head upright, Bradley raises his pruney fingers to gently hold your eyelids open. 

Whispering encouraging praise of Good girl, Bradley helps you get through the uncomfortable feeling of water filtering over the scratchy surface of your pupils.

“I don’t know how your stupid mustache doesn’t burn off from all the chemicals in that pool,” you grumble, rolling your eyes back, chasing relief for yourself.

“Oh shut up, you like it.”

When you don’t give him a snappy response, Bradley chuckles. Because he’s right. You do like it.

After thirty seconds of you silently flushing out your eyes—and Bradley assisting you, the pain subsides.

At that, relief fills you. Because not long ago, you were sure today would be the last day you’d ever get to see your handsome boyfriend’s face. 

Blinking rapidly underneath him, Bradley takes it as a sign to hover his face over yours again—blocking off the stream of cold water from hitting your face. Though, the weak pressure of the shower pangs against his thick neck instead, tracing down his muscled back.

With his hands back on his sides, Bradley cracks his knuckles against his tight custom swim shorts. 

“Thought you liked it, Bubbles,” the curve of his mouth lifts upward, stretching his grin to its limit. If there was one way to get you worked up—besides yanking you into the pool—it was bringing up your nightmarish attempt to ask him out on a date.

Truly, you don’t know what came over you when you blurted out Do you want to come over and watch Bubble Guppies?

But then again, the three brain cells scrambling around in your head at the time couldn’t come with anything better when there was Bradley Bradshaw—your dad’s new olympic recruit standing in front of you—very shirtless and very wet. And very much your age and type. 

It would be a lie to say that you stopped fighting with your father when he dragged you to work with him. Suddenly, it wasn’t all that bad. 

Who knew that towel folding and monitoring equipment would magically become easier when you had some eye candy walking around the two meter pool every single day.

“I wish I never watched Bubble Guppies with you!”

“Hey, at least ‘M not calling you Mr. Grouper,” he offers, scrunching his nose at you. At the remembrance of that round goldfish that led around the school of guppies, you’re glad he’s not calling you that either. 

“Mr. Grouper acts more like my dad.” Fat droplets fall from your water clogged lashes when you start to smile. 

Smoothly, Bradley ducks down to kiss your smiley mouth. “I must really like you, to be kissing you after watchin’ you swim away like a drowning dog.”  

That rush he gets from winning a race pounds him right in the chest when you swat his defined arm, your giggle echoing through the vacant locker room. 

Bradley’s unable to resist pecking your lips again. “You think Mr. Grouper would be happy that his little girl is off hanging with the likes of me?” He quips, cocking his head. 

At this rate, his face is a bit sore from grinning so hard. He could imagine the shit Seresin would give him for smiling like a loser right now.

You shrug, playfulness glinting in your eyes. “Well, do you think he’d rather me swim with members of the U.S team or Great Britain?”

Bradley’s expression immediately drops, not pleased with the mention of that other team.

There were so many other countries you could’ve brought up, and like your dad, you decide to rile him up by bringing up the guys who beat him last season. 

He audibly frowns, large hands extending to finger the band of your swim bottoms. “I’m hopin’ you don’t have plans to hang around them.”

Bradley eyes you up and down.

Again, you shrug, cheeks almost touching your shoulders when you do so. “Nah, I kinda really like this cute guy on the U.S team.”

“Yeah? Good. ‘Cause I was thinking about dunking you back in the pool, Mr. Grouper.”

“Bradley!”

The following day, Bradley calls you Mr. Grouper for the entirety of swim practice, leaving everyone else confused—especially his Coach.

note: anddd another little series blossomed because i’m in a summer mood! as always thank you for reading, and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

join the taglist for this series here or follow me on @waklman-library and turn on notifs to be notified when i post!

[wonnieaura]

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. College essentials

Are you moving to a college dorm for the first time and don’t know what to bring? Don’t worry I got you. Here are a few things you can get yourself ready for a new chapter 🫶🏻💗🎀🌱

COLLEGE ESSENTIALS

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Bedding and Comfort

• Twin XL sheets (common dorm bed size)

• Comforter or duvet

• Pillows and pillowcases

• Mattress topper (memory foam for extra comfort)

• Throw blankets

• Decorative pillows

Storage and Organization

• Under-bed storage bins

• Closet organizers

• Hangers

• Desk organizers (for pens, notebooks, etc.)

• Drawer dividers

• Shoe rack

• Storage ottoman (can double as seating)

Kitchen and Dining

• Mini fridge

• Microwave

• Electric kettle

• Coffee maker

• Reusable water bottle

• Plates, bowls, and utensils

• Mugs and glasses

• Tupperware (for leftovers and snacks)

• Snack stash

Bathroom Essentials

• Shower caddy (for transporting toiletries)

• Shower shoes/flip-flops

• Bath towels and washcloths

• Toiletries (shampoo, conditioner, soap, toothpaste, etc.)

• Robe

• Toilet paper

• Laundry basket and detergent

• Bath mat

• Mirror

Study and Technology

• Desk lamp with adjustable brightness

• Laptop and charger

• Power strip with surge protection

• Extension cords

• USB flash drive or external hard drive

• Noise-canceling headphones

• Desk chair cushion (for added comfort)

• Notebooks, pens, and planners

Décor and Personal Touches

• Wall art or posters

• String lights or LED lights

• Rug (to make the room cozier)

• Plants (real or fake)

• Photo frames or a corkboard (to display memories)

• Command hooks (for hanging items without damaging walls)

• Curtains (if the dorm allows)

Health and Wellness

• First-aid kit

• Reusable face masks

• Hand sanitizer

• Disinfecting wipes

• Vitamin supplements

• Water filter pitcher

Miscellaneous

• Fan or space heater (depending on climate)

• Tool kit (for small repairs)

• Umbrella

• Bicycle lock (if biking to campus)

• Reusable shopping bags

• Sewing kit

[findingnemosworld]

𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐬

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬

( 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 )

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐦*𝐭.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲. (𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦*𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞)

“He left me Y/N, can you believe that?” a drunken Lucia groans loudly as she downs her next drink.

Y/N shakes her head softly, wanting to tell her the old 'I told you so ' but at what cost, she had warned Lucia a number of times about Enrique, having noticed his behavior since the beginning of their relationship, “How old was she?”

“Twenty.” Lucia spat dryly. “I’m twenty five, where’s the fucking difference?”

“I’m gonna take you home.” Y/N said. “Because clearly you’re drunk.”

Lucia groans, “No, I want another on— wait who is that?” she murmurs as she noticed a figure sitting close by to their booth.

Y/N followed her line of sight, and that’s when her eyes widened in shock. “Oh no.”

Across from them, nursing a drink of his own was none other than Sergio Ramos, Real Madrid’s star defender — she only knew on a surface level through her work of journalism, she turns to Lucia. “Lucy, no.”

Lucia grins mischievously, “Y/N, yes.”

Before Y/N could react, Lucia stumbles towards Sergio — “Mr. Ramos, hi … my name is Lucia Chavez.”

Sergio raised a brow in confusion, “Hello.” she said softly.

“You see that gorgeous girl over there,” Lucia drunkenly gestured to Y/N.

Sergio follows her line of sight, his eyes lighting up in recognition, "I do."

"That is my best friend, Y/N." Lucia slurrs with a broad smile, "And she ..." she hiccups, "she likes you."

His brows arch up in surprise, "She likes me."

Y/N stood there in horror as Lucia spoke, I hate this girl ... she groans inwardly as she walks over to them, "Hi, I am so sorry for my friend, please excuse the fact that she seems to lose her filter when she's had one too many."

Sergio grins, "I noticed, and it's fine."

Y/N smiles, "Have a lovely night, and once again I am so sorry." she gently leads Lucia away who waves at Sergio and mouths, 'ask her out', to which Y/N drags her out, she calls their mutual friend Danté who managed to drive her home before Y/N went back inside, heading to the bar to pay for their drinks only for the bartender to say that they've already been paid. "By who?" Y/N asks.

The bartender gestures to Sergio, "By him."

Her cheeks redden and she offers him a warm smile before nodding, "Ok then." she said sofly. "Good night."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Lucia had woken up to the scent of fresh food, she groans at the soaring pain in her head. "Fucking hell, how much did I drink?" she said out loud.

Y/N who'd been in the kitchen making pancakes, chuckled softly at the sight of her friend who'd passed out on the couch the night before, "A lot! and you embarrassed me, so I guess karma's a bitch."

"Wait ... embarrassed you, what do you mean?" Lucia asks, sitting up.

Y/N walks over with a glass of water and painkillers, she arched a brow. "You don't remember?"

Lucia frowns, "No."

"We ran into Sergio Ramos, and you had the brilliant idea to tell him that I like him." Y/N replied.

Lucia's eyes widen, "I did."

Y/N nods, "And you know what that led?"

"You two fucking each other," Lucia said with a humorous tone.

"So funny," Y/N rolls her eyes before gesturing to the bouquet of roses. "Apparently he went to my workplace, asked for my address because in his words, I was one hell of an interviewer."

Lucia nods before smiling, "Look at it this way, my drunken foolishness finally landed you the guy you've been obssessed with your whole life."

"Go shower!" Y/N said with a dry laugh. "Before I kill you."

Lucia chuckles, "Ok, I am not going to risk my life."

Y/N watched her friend walk towards the bathroom, and she sighs softly -sure, she likes ... well loves Sergio Ramos- but she had long resigned to the fact that she wasn't his type, there were models, influencers, hell even female football players that looked like goddesses compared to her, and that's not to say she was insecure, not at all, she knew she was pretty but who was she compared to them, just a journalist that grew up loving football.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing, confused by the sudden call she grabs the device to answer. "Hello." she said softly.

"Hello Miss Y/L/N," a rich deep voice replied.

Her eyes widen, and she stared at the number before replying. "Sergio."

"That's right." he smiled, "How are you on this lovely morning?"

"I'm good, thank you ... erm." she stammers, "How did you get my number?"

"Your workplace," he replies. "I figured the polite thing to do was wait until you had your breakfast, or maybe you haven't."

"No, I haven't, why are you asking?" she asks curiously.

"Open the door sweetheart!" he exclaimed.

She froze, staring down at her attire which consisted of a worn out band t-shirt and shorts before she said. "Are you ....?" she asks.

"No, no ..." he chuckles. "I just took the liberty of sending you some treats from a bakery I love, enjoy and I'll see you around."

He ends the call, much to her confusion -she walks to the front door, swinging it open to find a large pink box, sitting on her doormat- she picks it up and shuts the door behind her, around the same time as Lucia enters the living room, she gestures to the box and asks. "What's all this?"

"A delivery from Sergio." she said with a sarcastic smile.

"You serious? .... I must have been quite the wing-woman." she chuckles.

Y/N placed the box on her counter and opened it, to find a variety of cookies, from chocolate chip to pistachio flavored to tiramisu flavored and the last row was red velvet white chocolate chip cookies, her favorites. "How did he know?" she asks.

"Maybe it was a lucky guess," Lucia shrugs snatching the choclate chip cookie.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

To say that Sergio was insistent would be an understatement, he had asked her to meet up in a café and after much insistence from Lucia, she agreed to meet up; choosing the most casual dress, pairing it with a jacket and her low heels, she steps into the café finding Sergio almost instantly, she walks over to him and says. "Some might call your behavior, borderline obsessive." she chuckles.

He grins, "I call it knowing what I want ..."

"Pardon?" she said as she sat across from him.

"Y/N, I remember the first time you were sent to interview me after the Champions League win against Atletico, fresh faced and quite innocent, you captured my attention immediately and I wanted to know more, Luca, my teammate had shown me your social media profile and I have to admit," he chuckles sheepishly. "I was a bit of a stalker first."

She tilts her head, "Is that so?" she chuckles. "I embarrassed myself in front of you."

"You," he laughs. "I was the one who embarrassed himself, stammering and blushing, my teammates wouldn't let me hear the end of it."

She couldn't really imagine it, "You're so cool and confident so it's kind of hard to believe, nevertheless ... my friend made an ass of herself that night because she was dumped and when she saw you, she thought, if I lost my happiness, there's no reason my friend can't find hers."

"Your friend is a wild one, Carlos would love her." Sergio chuckles.

A waiter approaches them, and they place their orders -he then turns to her- "Now," he begins. "I want to know about you, what you like? don't like, where you grew up? ... everything."

"Gosh, so forward." she laughs before growing silent, "Well, my full name is Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, but those close to me call me Pollito because of my height."

He laughs, "I can tell."

"I grew up in Y/C/N, in a small neighborhood but I always wanted to work here in Spain, so at eighteen, I made the decision with my friend Lucia to jump and move here on our own because I was already fluent in Spanish, it was easy to land a job here ... given my vast knowledge in football." she continues. "And before you ask, my favorite team is AC Milan, and my favorite player is Ricardo Kaka."

Sergio feigned offence, placing a hand on his heart. "Ouch, and here I thought I was your favorite."

Y/N shrugs, "Sorry, I like me a Brazilian." she teased.

"Guess that means I have to work harder." he said.

"How about you then?" she said.

Sergio shrugs, "There's not much to say about me, just a young man from Sevilla who made it big, I mean I also love music but nothing compares to football."

She nods softly, "I get it, if I hadn't gotten into journalism, I'd be a ballerina."

"I can see it." he smiled.

The waiter arrives, placing their orders on the table, she looks at him. "So, ... where is this heading?" she asks him.

"Where is what heading?" he asks.

"This ..." she gestures between the two of them. "Like don't get me wrong, I like you but I still have my reservations, like the public attention, I am sure you realize the gravity of this ... the idea that a famous football player and a journalist dating, come on now."

"So what, let them talk ..." he shrugs, "There's no denying ... I like you and you like me, and I think we'd be doing ourselves a disservice by ignoring our feelings."

She seemed apprehensive and for a good reason -she liked him but the fact is, there were plenty hurdles in their way- "Fine, but nothing too fancy and public, at first." she said softly.

A broad smile appears across his lips, "Fine by me."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

It'd been eight and a half months of slow and blissful dates, Sergio was as gentle and thoughtful as he could be -and Y/N was truly appreciative for that, they kept things lowkey for the most part, either having dinner at his house, him taking her to his farm, going to restaurants that weren't as popular around the area, Y/N in her part made sure not to hint to either Lucia or her co-workers that there was something, knowing they'd speak to the next person they find.

One evening, the pair were strolling together in his farm when suddenly he brought up the topic they'd been evading. "You've never been intimate with a man, right?"

She froze momentarily, before murmring, "How did you figure it out?"

It had been the primary reason why she evaded any of his attempts at initiating intimacy, she'd make up several excuses each time, believing that they were legitmate enough until she realized that there was going to be a moment where she has to face the elephant in the room.

He looks at her softly, with an understanding gaze. "Every single time you cower out after I touch you," he stops and takes her hand. "Baby I am not judging you, if anything I'll wait."

Y/N bites her lip, "I wont wait .... I'm tired of being a coward, I'm not getting any younger and besides," she smiles, "I trust you."

His heart soared, "I love you so much baby." he leaned in to kiss her.

"I love you too," she murmurs in between their kiss.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋ

Around their one year anniversary, she returns to her apartment to find dried rose petals creating a path leading to her bedroom, coupled with soft music coming from there, she removed her shoes, placed her bag to the side as she walked towards her bedroom, her eyes widening at the sight in front of her -rose petals decorated the bed along with candles placed on the tables- and in the middle of the room, stood her loving boyfriend Sergio, dressed in a shirt and a pair of washed jeans, he strides over to her. "Hello my love."

"Hi," she smiles softly, she gestures to their surroundings. "What's all this?"

"Well, you've been working so hard, so I figured what better way to celebrate you than to finally take the next step." he whispers softly.

She inhaled a deep breath then exhaled, before murmuring. "What if I'm not good?" she asks nervously.

"No, no baby." he shakes his head, caressing her cheek. "Don't doubt yourself, let me help you baby."

He leads her to the edge of the bed, and says. "Now," he looks at her, "I'm going to be as gentle as I can, so if at any point, you're uncomfortale ... let me know, ok."

She nods slowly, as he took a step forward, reaching for the zipper. He looks at her, and she nods again; biting her lip in anticipation for what was to come.

The air in the room thickened with tension as Sergio's fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as he slowly pulled it down, the soft fabric slipping off her shoulders. His eyes never left hers, reassuring her with a gentle smile.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and soothing.

Y/N's heart raced, a mixture of excitement and nervousness flooding her senses. She had never imagined she would be here, with him, like this. But there was something about Sergio, something so safe and warm that made her want to trust him completely.

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for," he murmured against her skin.

But she was ready—ready to finally let go of the fears that had held her back for so long. "I want this, Sergio," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want you."

His gaze softened, full of love and understanding. "Then let me take care of you," he said, his hands gently guiding her dress the rest of the way off. She stood before him, vulnerable but unafraid, as he kissed her again, deeper this time, full of promise and adoration.

Every touch was careful, every move deliberate. He took his time, ensuring she was comfortable and relaxed. As they lay down together, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in the intimacy of the moment.

Once the pair were bare from clothing, he laid her down on the bed, taking a moment to admire every curve of her body. "You're so ... so beautiful," he whispered, pressing soft featherlight kisses to every inch of her skin, eliciting the sweetest sounds from Y/N. "Oh the sounds you make." he groans, burying his face in her neck.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her, one of his hands slips downwards and in between her legs, his thumb caressing the dampness all the way up to her clit, "You're so wet baby." he cooed.

She whimpers, "Sergio."

"I know baby, I know but I wanna help you relax at first." he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

He kept his thumb over her clit, moving in a circular motion while he gently coaxed index finger into her walls, elicting a barely audible gasp from her lips. "So warm, so perfect." he nibbled on her neck.

Her vision blurred as he began to gently pump his finger in and out of her walls, "Sergio," she whines, bucking her hips upwards to meet his touch.

"Yes, baby." he groans roughly, keeping a moderately slow pace. "Just like that ..."

The air was growing thicker as the sound of music faded into the background, to be replaced by the sound of his lips on her neck and the slickness of her walls filling her ears. "Sergio, ... Fuck." she gasps as he hits the right spot.

"You're such a good girl for me," he praised, "So fuckng tight." he grunts. "Are you gonna cum?"

She nods, "Yes, yes ..."

"Hold on just for a bit baby," he murmurs softly.

He pulls his fingers out, causing her to whimper softly at the loss. "It’s ok." he whispers.

He crawls on top of her, parting her legs swiftly to push the tip of his cock against her slick pussy, "You're so wet baby."

"Please," she moans.

He caressed her cheek, before gently pushing his cock into her walls, his eyes fluttered shut, he released a hiss. "Oh baby, you're so tight."

"Sergio," she moans, instinctively clenching around him.

"Fuck," he groans, "Try to relax for me baby,"

She nods, relaxing her walls to accommodate to the sheer size of his cock - he gives her a warm, lazy smile. "You're such a good girl, you know that, from the day I met you ..." he murmurs, pressing tender kisses to her cheek. "I knew you were mine, all mine."

Y/N whimpers, grabbing his face in her hands. "I love you Sergio," she admits softly. "So much, so so much."

He captured her lips in a deep kiss, before slowly beginning to roll his hips against hers, coaxing out soft moans from her, he rests his cheek against hers and whispers, "Such a good girl, such a good girl for me, you're mine." he groans softly, "All mine."

Her back arched to meet the friction, "Sergio." she moans.

"That's right baby ... say my name." he groans in her ear. "You're so good to me."

Y/N drowned in an ocean of pleasure, while Sergio coaxed her to step out of her shell, her moans grew louder with each thrust - "Sergio, I'm gonna ... I'm gonna." she lost all sense of comprehension.

"I know baby, I'm right behind you." he groans. "Cum for me, cum for me sweet girl."

The coil in her belly tightened and slowly, she allowed the orgasm to course through her, crying softly. "Fuck, fuck ..." her legs shake as she arched her back.

"That's it," he cooed in her ear, kissing her neck. "Good girl, that's a good girl." he followed suit, his hips twitching as he allowed his orgasm to wash over him, releasing inside of her.

Afterward, they lay together in a quiet embrace, the candles flickering softly around them. Sergio brushed a strand of hair from her face, kissing her forehead. "You were amazing," he whispered.

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "I couldn't have asked for a better first time," she admitted, her voice thick with emotion.

Sergio held her closer, his arms a protective shield around her. "This is just the beginning," he said softly. "I'm here for you, always."

She closed her eyes, feeling content and at peace for the first time in a long time. In Sergio's arms, she felt safe, loved, and most importantly, she felt like she belonged.

And as she drifted off to sleep, she knew that whatever came next, they would face it together—side by side, heart to heart.

[visit-new-york]

235 Duffield St, Brooklyn, NY 11201

One Willoughby Square in Brooklyn Achieves Highest LEED Interior Rating in the U.S.

One Willoughby Square, a high-rise in Downtown Brooklyn, has earned the highest LEED Platinum interior rating in the United States. Designed by FXCollaborative for JEMB Realty, this 34-story office tower features 40,000 square feet of space, an array of amenities, and advanced systems that enhance energy efficiency and improve indoor air quality.

FXCollaborative has also moved its New York headquarters to a triplex suite within the building.

“The FXCollaborative offices exemplify a new standard in office design, merging work and social environments while prioritizing employee health and well-being,” said Gustavo Rodriguez, partner and design director at FXCollaborative. “Overall, One Willoughby Square represents exceptional workspace design that underscores our commitment to sustainability, connection, and collaboration.”

The building incorporates a variety of energy-efficient materials and features, including solar shading devices and balcony doors designed to Passive House standards, ensuring superior air tightness and thermal insulation. To enhance indoor air quality, the mechanical systems include MERV-14 air filters, UV light-augmented air handling units, and low-VOC materials.

All offices in One Willoughby Square are equipped with LED lighting, a daylight dimming system, and sustainably sourced furnishings.

Amenities include on-site dining, a lounge, conference rooms, a shared outdoor terrace, locker rooms, showers, access to 250 bike racks, and an upcoming dedicated entrance to a new public park. Additionally, the base of the building will feature a new public school.

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Winner Takes All - Steve Rogers x OC

warnings: frat boy college steve rogers, roommates to lovers, 'it's always been you'

word count: 7.7k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1417543778-winner-takes-all-drew

Vibe: "Steve shook his head, moving to press a kiss to the small freckle at the base of her throat, "Poetry class. First year." he admitted, sitting up and meeting her gaze once more. "I didn't even know what I was doing in that class, and then this blonde firecracker sat next to me, and suddenly it turned into my favorite. She could meet me sarcastic comment for sarcastic comment, and bullied me, and made me question everything, but she also taught me more then that professor did all semester and drove me so insane that I agreed to be her roommate just to be near her."

Masterlist

Drew’s fluffy socks skimmed over the wooden floor of the apartment, hands full with four beer bottles and a bag of chips tucked under her arm. 

The kitchen was quiet except for the odd noise filtering from a bedroom down the hall. A muffled but distinctive groan from her idiot of a roommate and a giggle she didn’t recognise made Drew roll her eyes as she shuffled her way back to the living room. 

As she passed through she palmed one beer off to Sam, laid out on the floor with the PlayStation controller left abandoned by his side and his eyes glued to his phone, and one each to Bucky and Natasha, who had somehow managed to both fit curled up together on the armchair despite the whole couch being empty. 

Friday afternoons often went like this, they’d find themselves lazing in Drew and Steve’s apartment. Sometimes they’d just stay in and sometimes their afternoon beers led to pre-drinking and bar hopping. 

Their bottles were nearly empty by the time Steve and his company finally emerged, hushed voices and laughter echoing all the way to the front door before it swung swiftly closed, and Drew glanced up to see her roommate entering the living room — his dirty-blond hair disheveled, lips pink and t-shirt all askew. 

“Aw, didn’t want to introduce us to your hook up, Rogers?” Bucky asked, smirk on his lips as he shoved a handful of chip crumbs into his mouth. 

“And put her through the pain of meeting you losers?” 

Steve grinned as he hopped over the back of the couch, making himself comfy in the spot right beside Drew and plucking the beer from her hand, draining the last of it. 

“Hey!” 

“Don’t you have a date you should be getting ready for?” Steve countered, wiggling his eyebrows. “Patrick or Pedro or something?” 

“Peter, but you knew that Steven.” 

“Yep. Anyway, you don’t mind if I shower first, do you?”

He was up again before Drew could argue, rounding the couch and smacking a wet kiss to her cheek from behind.

Drew begrudgingly watched him saunter off to their shared bathroom, her attention only pulled away from Steve’s toned back when Natasha cleared her throat and Bucky stifled a laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing D,” he shook his head but she knew that look. 

“It’s never going to happen,” Natasha finally piped up, “Rogers is a coward, say goodbye to your money Buck.” 

He ruffled a hand through her thick red hair, flinching back when she threatened him under her breath. 

“What money?” Drew raised an eyebrow. “I feel out of the loop.”

“You are the loop, it’s torture watching you and Steve going around in a circle. So we made a bet…” Sam’s playful nature died on his lips with a kick from Natasha. 

“A bet?” Drew wasn’t completely in the dark. Not when it came to her feelings about Steve. But they were friends, barely and in he was constantly preoccupied by someone prettier and funnier.

"What kind of bet?" Drew asked hesitantly. Her mind already summing up the reason behind their friends' mischevious ways.

Sam gave her a side glance from his position on the floor that said "are you really asking that question?" while Bucky answered with a grin, "Who would give in first. My money says you– Ow! What the fuck Nat?!"

Natasha had a glare on her face as she cut him off and smacked him up the head.

"Just cause he's been your friend since kindergarten doesn't automatically make him a winner, you ass!" Nat defended.

Drew huffed an indignant breath and tried to glare at her so called friends.

"Oh, boy. Can someone with a little more common sense tell me what kind of bet this is. I would like to know how that bet involves me." She asked, faking a stern tone trying to get one of them to talk.

Natasha stared at her, exasperation clear on her face. The red head’s rigid look was just enough to break Drew’s resolve rather than wait for one of them to answer her clearly. 

“You're my best friend Drew, so I can say this. Stop acting so dense. You know what it’s about and it’s a lot deeper than what these two doofus’ faces or tones are showing.” 

Bucky and Sam mumbled in offense, pressing their lips together as soon as Nat narrowed her eyes at them. 

“I just want you to let yourself be happy, D” 

Drew felt her heart clench inside her chest at her friend’s words. She should’ve known Nat would catch her no matter how hard she tried to just be friends with Steve, she knows her too well. 

Before she could answer, the bathroom door unlocking filled her silence. And like a saving grace Steve’s voice boomed through the hallway. 

“Showers all yours Drewski!” 

Heat rose up her chest and neck as her eyes flicked between the boys and Nat before pushing herself up. 

“I have a date to get ready for.” She muttered.

With that, the blonde rounded the couch and headed down the hallway, pausing to grab her towel off the back of her bedroom door. She let out a huff and shook her head once,  trying her best to push her friend's betrayal out of her mind. They were crazy if they thought something was going to happen between her and Steve. That boy wouldn't recognize her as more than a roommate if she up and slapped him across the face with her feelings. Which Drew had to admit did sound like a pleasing idea. 

She let out a small laugh to herself before a clear of his throat pulled her from her head. 

"Whatcha thinking about, princess?" Steve smirked, roughly rubbing his towel over his dirty blonde hair. 

A drop of water from his hair ran down his neck and Drew couldn't help but follow the trail with her eyes. quickly biting the inside of her cheek before she returned her gaze to him with an eye roll, "First of all, I told you to stop calling me that. And if you must know, I was thinking about how satisfying it would be to slap you across the face," the blonde quipped as she stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door before he could answer.

Stomping grumpily into the shower to the echo of Steve’s laughter, Drew lathered her hair and gave her scalp an overly vicious scrub. Natasha’s words raced around her brain.  She loved her friend with every fiber of her being but she was wrong. There was no-way that hulking blond jackass had any feelings other than irritation  and plain devilment towards her.

With a frustrated sigh she began her pre-date shower routine, even breaking out the hardcore expensive body wash that her mom had bought her last Christmas. By the time she stepped out of the shower, Drew was determined not to let that ape or her meddling friends derail her plans for a good night.

Back in her bedroom, Drew perched on the edge of her bed. Hair wrapped in a towel, she slathered moisturizer on her legs as she hummed along softly to her date night playlist. 

She could hear the boys laughing in the living room, Steve’s obnoxious shouting and the music of whichever video game they’d gone back to playing, when she heard the quiet knock on her door. 

“You can come in, Nat,” Drew called, unraveling her hair from the towel and squeezing out the damp ends.

Natasha wandered into the room and sunk against the dresser, picking at the chipping paint that coated the old wood. "You know that it's all in your best interest?"

"What?" Drew said as she hung the towel. "Dating Steve? It's clear it's a game to you guys."

"It's not," Natasha said in a more serious tone and tapped the dresser to get my attention. "At least it wasn't, we've been watching you both around each other and it only got worse when you started living together. Steve is blind to anyone else in the room when you're around and you're the only person who doesn't see it."

"I have a date," Drew noted, shoving down the butterflies that fluttered in her chest at the thought and checking her reflection in the mirror before adding some mascara to her lashes. 

"With some dweeb that won't even remember you like orange juice with the pulp, or that you like vanilla creamer in your coffee after if he gives you thirty second mind blowing sex," Nat rolled her eyes and mocked Drew in what was supposed to be a frat boys confident swagger.

Steve always remembered the orange juice.

"I'm sorry you're out twenty bucks Natasha," Drew stared at her before collecting her bag and going to leave. 

"My phones on," Nat said from her position in Drew's room, "text me if you need an exit strategy."

"Always,"  Drew offered a smile and snuck from the apartment before the guys could hassle her further about the situation.

Thirty minutes into the date, Drew was already itching to reach for her phone and beg Natasha for a fake emergency. Peter was a completely different person outside of their Psych class. Loud, obnoxious and flirted with every waitress that passed their table. Steve's obnoxious too. She thought as she stared at the man in front of her as he shoved onion ring after onion ring into his mouth. He rambled on about anything and everything under the sun since they sat down. Yeah, but Steve doesn't eat like a Neanderthal. 

Drew shook her head of thoughts of Steve and focused on the football game on the TV behind him. It was ironic, that the only thing getting her through this was a game she cared nothing about and yet felt less than because Steve wasn't around to scream at the television. 

Once they finished eating, they split the bill and Peter walked her outside. A shit-eating grin on his face. 

"What?" she asked, looking up at him with an awkward laugh. 

"Nothing," Peter shrugged, "it's just that I'm surprised Rogers let you out of the house." He took a step towards her, dragging his fingers down her bare arms. Drew had to fight off an actual shiver as she stepped out of his touch. "I'm glad he did though." 

I'm not.

"What do you mean by let me out?" She fought to keep her face neutral as she forced the words out of her mouth, taking half a step more out of his reach. 

"Ya' know," he shrugged with a smirk. 

"No, I don't." She bit out.

"He's always around you somehow, like a goddamn guard dog. Do you know how many times I tried to ask you out but he was always there?"

what?!

Peter's annoying rambling continued, unaware of just how much Drew was losing interest in him, what was left of it anyway.

"I finally got Rocket to corner him to ask about the team try-outs as a distraction so I could talk to you." He finished. Smugness radiated off of him and the sight made Drew furious.

"Goodnight, Peter. Don't bother calling." Drew turned on her heels, fuming and left him, confused and annoyed on the sidewalk.

I should have stayed home with my friends, she thought as she walked to her car that she was glad she took instead of having Peter pick her up. Him touching bare arm had been enough to make her skin crawl. But what concerned her even more was the way Peter called Steve a guard dog. There was a bite to his tone as if he was staking his claim on her like she was a toy on the playground toddlers fought over.

She sniffled as she unlocked her car and sat in the seat. Wiping her eyes, she pulled out her phone and texted Nat. 

Drew: Things didn't go well. I told him not to call me.

Tossing her phone into the passenger seat, Drew made her way home, tightly gripping her steering wheel as Exes by Tate McRae sounded loudly through the car. She silently reminded herself that she'd have to thank Steve for preventing that from happening sooner. Her body shivered in disgust as she threw the car in park, looking up at her building. 

Her phone let out a soft ding as Nat reacted to her message with a heart, telling her she'd be over in the morning to hear all about it. With a sigh of defeat, Drew climbed from her small car, grabbed her bag and headed up to the apartment, preparing herself for the inevitable jeering that she'd receive from Steve when she walked in. 

As expected, the light from the TV caught her eye when she walked in. 

Here we go, she thought to herself. 

"Wow, home at 9 PM? You must have found your soulmate," His raspy voice sounded from the living room. She could almost hear the smirk that was plastered on his lips when she moved herself to sit on the opposite side of the couch from him. 

"Don't start," Drew muttered, pulling her legs underneath herself as she tied her blonde waves into a messy bun on the top of her head.

She could actually feel his eyes as they analyzed her demeanor before he let out a little huff, rising from the couch and rustling around in the kitchen for a few moments before returning. 

As he passed the armchair that Drew usually occupied he grabbed her favorite blanket. Tossing the woolen kaleidoscope over her knees, he handed her a beer and then sat again, taking a swig out of his own bottle.

They stayed sitting in silence for a moment longer before Steve hummed, picking at the label on his beer. 

“You wanna talk about it?” 

“Not yet,” Drew murmured, “just kinda wanna stew in my frustration for a little while.” 

Steve huffed out a small chuckle, still just as rich and deep and causing a familiar warmth to curl in her belly. 

She hated it. 

“He that much of a dick?” Steve asked, tucking his leg up on the couch as he turned to face her. 

“Off the scale.”

She could smell the pine and spice from his cologne as he shifted closer. 

"Am I on the scale?" He asked, brows raising. 

Drew couldn't tell if it was concern or pure cockiness that fueled his question but it dragged a small chuckle from her lips and she could feel herself relaxing. "Yeah it goes, one to Steve Rogers." 

"So I beat Porter?" He flashed the most handsome of smiles at her and lifted his beer for a sip. 

"Peter," Drew corrected him again. "And we aren't measuring the size of your dick, were measuring how much of a dick you are."

"Wins a win, Drewski." He winked at her and the warmth returned. 

"I hate that you do that," she said, picking at her own bottles label now. 

"What?" Steve's voice dropped. 

"Make me feel better. Steve..." She stopped, unsure she even wanted to ask. "Did you," she cleared her throat, "do you prevent guys in class from asking me out?"

“What? Nah, I mean, I might’ve talked to a guy or two, made sure they really knew what they wanted- but it’s all chill,” Steve shrugged, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. 

“Steve! It is not ‘chill’!” Drew exclaimed, turning to face him. “I’m a big girl I can tell guys yes or no on my own.”

“C’mon princess, don’t get all twisted, I was looking out for you.” Steve said, leaning towards her and Drew narrowed her eyes. 

“Not a princess.” she said pushing Steve away, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the couch.

She could feel his gaze on her again. Burning a hole into the side of her head as she sunk further into the cushions. Her favorite blanket acting as a barrier between them. 

"No," he said finally, "definitely not a princess." 

Drew looked over at him, those big blue eyes staring back at her only seemed to glow in the light of the TV. "Why?" She asked softly, "And don't give the whole just protecting me bit." 

Steve let out a groan as his head fell back against the couch. "Look okay, I may have told a few of the guys not to mess around with you. That's all." He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. But it was. She didn't need Steve to protect her or her feelings for that matter. She was an adult who could handle them all the same. 

"Why Steve?" She pushed again for an answer but was only met with those same blue eyes as they darkened. 

"Because they were saying some real fucked up shit and I didn't appreciate it and you definitely didn't deserve to be talked about that way."

She was taken aback by the way his face suddenly lost all the playfulness that was there a minute ago. His lips were drawn into a tight line and his brows furrowed. Somehow, she still didn’t understand why he wanted to protect her so badly. 

"You don't need to do that, Steve." her tone soft, speaking more to herself.

"I'm sorry, honey bee. I didn’t mean to upset you."

"You... you didn't upset me," she told him quietly. "It's just... Why do you want to protect me so much?"

"Because I like you, Drew," he told her, his face serious. "I don't want anyone to hurt you."

"I'm a big girl, Rogers, I can take care of myself, you know?" 

Steve huffed and shook his head, "Believe me, I know you can D, I just - if you had heard what those guys were saying, I couldn't - I couldn't let them near you" 

Silence fell between them for a moment as Steve moved himself forward just enough so his leg was brushing hers and his arm draped lazily around the back of the couch. His fingers played with the edge of her blanket, his eyes cast downward as Drew watched him. 

"Guard dog," Drew whispered, smiling softly and breathing out a small laugh as she shook her head, "That's what Peter called you. I didn't even notice that you'd been protecting me like that until he said it" 

"Quill's an asshole," Steve muttered, watching the fluff of the blanket run through his finger tips.

"Steve," Drew placed her hand on his knee, his blue eyes flickering back up to hers, "Thank you,"

“Shut up,” he murmured, his face closing down, but there was something in his expression that Drew couldn’t let go.

“No, really,” she pressed. “I don’t have that many people to lol out for me so…I appreciate it, Steve.”

“Bucky would do the same, or Nat,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.

“Would they?” Drew questioned, narrowing her eyes and leaning forward slightly, invading his space more than she usually would.

“I—“ Steve paused, his gaze flitting across her face, blue eyes lingering just a moment on her mouth as she worried at her bottom lip. Steve sucked in a breath, settling back a little.

Drew furrowed her brow, trying to ignore the twist in her stomach as her roommate distanced himself again. 

“You what, Steve?” 

“I think they would,” he replied, “but they don’t live with you, D. They don’t watch you leave for a date with a douchebag and sit hoping you walk through that door unharmed, or just hoping you walk through that door at all.”

Drew stared at him for a long moment, watching his deep blue eyes flicker from her to the door. 

“You wait for me?” She asked finally. She had never really noticed but thinking back on the last few months, no matter how late she arrived Steve had always been in the same spot on the couch. 

Sometimes he said nothing, sometimes he’d ask if she slammed the door a little harder than normal. But he always found a reason to be home while she was on a date. 

“I’m hurt you never noticed,” he clutched his chest playfully.

Drew looked into Steve’s eyes and saw actual hurt there, surprising her. 

“Steve…that’s really sweet,” She said, leaning her head onto the back of the couch, forgetting Steve’s arm was there until she was resting on it. 

Drew didn’t move right away, and Steve didn’t pull away, so she stayed where she was. 

“Yeah, that’s me; the sweet one,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

Drew’s throat suddenly felt dry. He really did wait for her. And he really did seem hurt. Were their friends right? 

“Don’t sell yourself short, kid” she quipped. 

Immediate regret when Steve guffawed. And while she mentally kicked herself for that dumb adage, he readjusted and wrapped his arm around her.

He nuzzled against the top of her head, a smile still pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Thanks for the advice, princess.”

"Not a princess," She mumbled with a frown, causing him to laugh. 

"There's no way you like Drewski better." He grinned, pulling back enough to look down at her. 

Drew laughed. "Honestly? I do." 

Steve tossed his head back with a laugh, her favorite kind. His eyes crinkled, mouth hung open and the room filled with the sound that made butterflies in her chest explode.

"Alright, Drewski. You want another beer ?" Steve asked, getting up from the couch and taking the two empty bottles from the coffee table. 

"Actually, I need to get out of these clothes. Be right back." She threw the blanket back and got up as well.

"You need help with those ?"

She heard Steve say, a low chuckle left his throat, his voice laced with mischief. 

"Behave, Rogers." she answered, sauntering off into her room, passing by Steve, who stood in front of the kitchen island watching her walk away, swaying her hips a little more with each step.

As she shut her bedroom door behind her, Drew rested against it with a sigh. Why am I flirting with him? He's not pushing me away... maybe I should up my game a bit? 

Quickly, Drew changed out of her clothes, donning a tank top and a pair of sleep pants before returning to the living area of the apartment. There was a beer already waiting for her beside her favorite spot, which made her smile as she sat down. "Thank you, Steve."

“Gotta keep my favorite girl hydrated,” Steve chuckled, a soft blush warming his cheeks. Drew’s eyes followed where his pinking skin trailed beneath his shirt. 

“Your favorite girl, huh?” 

“I think Bucky would kill me if I said Natasha was my favorite so… y’know, had to go with my second choice.” 

Drew gasped, swatting Steve across his very broad, very firm chest and making him choke out a laugh. 

“Rude. You can be honest, Stevie. I won’t let it ruin your star football player, ladies man reputation if you wanna be soft for once. Promise.” 

Steve sighed and settled in close again, Drew’s heart rate picking up at the sheer warmth of him against her side. 

“You’ve always been my favorite, honey bee.”

She looked up at him to find him staring down at her and the breath caught in her throat under his gaze. 

play it cool Drew, don’t flip out.

“Honey bee is cute, how many girls have heard that nickname?” She attempted to recover as the blush tickled at her cheeks. 

“Only you,” he said, not looking away. 

“You’re very smooth, Rogers,” she huffed when she realized how close they were.

“All part of the charm,” Steve grinned, and Drew laughed, staring as his grin slipped into a pout. 

“Cute,” Drew scoffed, but Steve’s eyes lit up. 

“You think I’m cute?” He asked quietly, his eyes focused on her lips as she quickly licked them, biting down on her lower lip. 

Drew noticed Steve’s breathing getting deeper, heavier, and she looked up to find his gaze had darkened.

"I..." 

She hesitated. The words wouldn't come out. Yes, I think you're cute!

"C'mon, don't get shy on me now, Drewski."

Steve's voice had dropped about an octave. Goosebumps tickled to the surface of her skin. She couldn't help but giggle at what was unfolding here.

The smile that spread across his face at the sound sent warmth spreading through her body. He reached up, gently dragging his knuckles along her cheek. Tiny sparks lit up her skin as he tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. "That's my favorite sound in the world." He rasped searching her eyes before they flickered down to her lips again. 

"Steve," she whispered. 

"Tell me not to kiss you right now Drew," he said, his lips so close to hers she could feel the warmth of his breath fanning against her skin. "Tell me to back off and I will, but if you don't..." The words trailed off and she shook her head pushing away every single doubt she had about the man sitting in front of her. 

"I won't." She whispered and that's all it took for him to crash his mouth against her own.

Drew gasped into his mouth, her hand instantly moving to rest on the back of his neck as their lips moved in sync with each other. It wasn't long before she could feel him brush his tongue against her lips, asking for entrance, which she happily gave. She could taste the beer he'd been drinking along with mint from the gum he always carried on him, making her moan quietly.

She felt Steve's lips curl up at the soft sound that escaped her throat, pulling another giggle from her. Quickly pressing another kiss to her lips with a smile, he moved to trace her jaw with wet open-mouthed kisses. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he whispered against her skin. 

Drew let her head fall back and slightly to the side as her eyes fluttered closed, "Tell me," she breathed. 

Steve shook his head, moving to press a kiss to the small freckle at the base of her throat, "Poetry class. First year." he admitted, sitting up and meeting her gaze once more. "I didn't even know what I was doing in that class, and this blonde firecracker sat next to me, and suddenly it turned into my favorite class. She could meet me sarcastic comment for sarcastic comment, and bullied me, and made me question everything, but she also taught me more than that professor did all semester and drove me so insane that I agreed to be her roommate just to be near her."

“Are you close enough now?” Drew breathed out and tangled her fingers into the hair that grew at his nape. 

“Not nearly,” he responded against her skin instantly like he had waited his whole life to be asked exactly that. 

“And now?” She asked. He leaned back never breaking away but wrapping his arm around her waist and allowing her closer as he kissed his way across her collar bone and she settled into his lap. “Steve,” she urged him for an answer. 

“It’ll never be enough,” he hummed. The fresh stubble on his jaw tickled her skin as his fingers worked beneath the fabric of her shirt and up her spine.

Drew shivered and Steve pulled her in closer, hands spreading warm and wide on her back. His lips were trailing up her neck and behind her ear, sucking gently. 

Steve pulled back and his eyes darkened as they zeroed in on the mark he left behind, his hands turning possessive on her skin, clutching her too him. 

“Steve,” Drew gasped, feeling his bulge grow between her legs. She hesitantly ground down, and Steve grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her in for a rough kiss. 

“Honeybee,” Steve groaned into Drew’s mouth, holding her hips tight as she wound her arms around his neck.

Drew moaned as their teeth clicked against each other. She felt lightheaded with passion. Steve's hands continued to explore her back as his hips bucked up against hers. 

She gasped - her panties were already wet, and she was getting impatient as she felt the growing bulge in Steve's pants. 

He pulled away abruptly and she whined at the loss of contact.

"Tell me what you want, Drew," he whispered in a sultry voice. "I've been talking an awful lot."

Drew stared at him for a moment. Her heart felt like it wanted to escape her chest as his fingers traced a line up and down her spine, tickling her skin. "I-" she stopped, the words on her tongue but stuck. 

"You can tell me no," He said cupping her cheek with his free hand, curling it into her hair. "We do this at your pace." 

She shook her head, "it's not that." Drew laughed softly pressing her forehead against his. "I want to, I want you" 

Steve sighed softly, "But?" 

"but I'm scared." She admitted softly.

Steve kissed the tip of her nose as he cradled her head in his hands. “What are you scared of?” He asked softly. “I hope, not me. I never want you to be scared of me.”

"No, no it's not you I'm scared of," Drew twisted her head and placed a soft kiss to Steve's wrist as his fingers played with the hair at the back of her neck, "I'm scared of what this means, of admitting what we want here, I just - you had another girl in your room today and I just got home from a date... why did it take these things to get us here? Why couldn't we be normal people and just - "

"Be honest?" Steve finished her question, with a soft smirk.

Letting out a breath she was unaware she was holding, Drew nodded and fiddled with the silver chain that sat around Steve's neck, "I just want to make sure we know what we're doing, and not just getting caught up in the moment,"

"Drewski," Steve started catching her brown eyes with his blue ones, his expression soft and caring as his fingertips traced circles into the skin of her back, "There's a reason I'm home every night, watching Love Island with you. Why none of the girls I've brought over ever stayed, and I think there's a reason why you came to sit on the couch with me after your bad dates instead of hiding in your room like you usually do when someone pisses you off." 

Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip and she nodded slowly with a small smirk, "It's you and me. It always has been. It just took too long for either of us to realize" she said softly.

Steve smiled at her, nodding, and pressed his lips to hers gently. “You and me Drew, always.” He pulled her closer on his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her chest. She could feel her heart beating under his ear, a little fast but steady. 

Drew kissed the top of Steve’s head, nuzzling her face into his hair. She realized after a moment that Steve wasn’t moving. 

“Are we…cuddling? Are you a cuddler, Rogers?” 

“Only for you, honeybee,” Steve murmured against her skin, sinking into the couch with her, pressing Drew further into his arms as he relaxed.

A warm feeling unfurled in her chest, her heart expanding with unknown but pleasant sensations coursing through her as Steve's larger body covered her own. His thick arms wrapping around her waist completely and his scent the only thing she could smell. It was the most comfort she'd felt in a long time.

Their chests rose and fell in sync as they breathed each other in. Drew didn't want to break this beautiful silence even though her mind was begging for more reassurance from him.

Steve raised his hand to brush the strand of hair out of her face at a slow pace, his calloused fingers traveling over her skin heating it in its wake. Like he was savoring every second with her, his blue eyes glittering like snow crystals on a cold winter morning. 

"Princess, we take this at whatever pace you feel comfortable with." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, his lips warm and soft against her skin.

When he pulled back to meet her gaze she smiled tenderly, the soft thump of his heartbeat calming her nerves. 

“What’d I say about the princess, Rogers?” She breathed, a soft laugh escaping her lips at his apologetic grimace. 

“I’m ok, Steve. Really.” She paused, bringing her thumb to his lips, tracing them gently as she felt his heartbeat quicken. “I feel safe with you. I trust you.”

Steve kissed her thumb, staring into her eyes. His own heartbeat hammered in his chest as he drew her hand away so he could lean in and kiss her again. He couldn’t get enough of the sweet taste of her mouth.

His hands slid slowly down her sides, as if he were committing her curves to memory, and halted at her waist. When his fingers slipped under the hem of her tank top and tightened against her skin Drew moaned.

Crushing her chest against his, she deepened their kiss, tilting her head as their tongues entwined. Steve whimpered into her mouth when her thighs clamped around his hips and she raked her fingers through his messy blond hair.

Drew's hips started moving on their own, slowly grinding onto him as heat pooled low in her belly at the feel of his hardness underneath her most sensitive parts. 

The deliciously sinful groan that left him at the next grind of their hips together made her bite his lower lip and suck into her mouth. His hands roaming the skin of her back digging in slightly and pulling her flush against him.

"Faster, Drew." He panted into her mouth as her back bowed when his cock hit her clothed clit just right.

A desperate whimper left her lips as she increased the pace which elicited a string of deep moans and a few curses out of Steve.

"Fuck." 

Steve's hands traveled up her hips over the sheer lace of her bra, her nipples already peaked through the fabric, almost unbearably sensitive to his touch, like her body unknowingly yearned for him all this time.

Drew dropped her head to his shoulder, panting as she circled her hips. “I need to feel you…”

Steve dipped his thumbs beneath the neck of her top and into her bra, searching out her pebbled nipples and circling them in time to the movement of her hips against him.

“Honey bee,” he whispered lustily, kissing a hot trail across her jaw and down the column of her throat.

“Touch me, Steve…please…” Her voice was a breathy whisper and her hands clutched desperately to him.

Steve tilted his head back, the warmth of his hands leaving her skin as he instead tucked his thumb under her chin until he met her gaze. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Never been more sure of anything in my life, Steve. Now please fucking touch me.” 

Drew’s breath hitched on the last word as Steve moved his thumb to her bottom lip, tugging it down until her mouth naturally parted and he skimmed along the sensitive skin just inside. Eyes not leaving Steve’s, Drew flicked her tongue out over the tip of his thumb, sucking it into her mouth.

His eyes darkened and his lids were low on his cornflower eyes as she watched him trace the movement, breathing laboured and heavy. 

"Take off your pants, D." 

The low command sent a rush of heat down her spine and she scrambled to take her pajama pants off, lacking any grace as she stumbled out of them halfway across his lap while he bit his lip in amusement.

Drew settled back down straddling him, her damp pale blue panties doing little to cover her, but the way Steve's eyes narrowed in on them and his hands dug into the flesh of her ass told her she didn't need to cover herself from him.

Steve laid a trail of kisses along her neck, lowering himself slowly along her still clothed chest. Nose nudging each of her pebbled nipples, as her breath hitched in her throat. 

She lifted herself up on her elbows slightly, eyes finding Steve’s with quick breaths as he pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her belly where her top scrunched up. 

“Sweet talker,” Drew teased. 

“Only for you,” he winked, looking up at her. “And for the record, you're beautiful all the time. But this view is… perfect.” He mused as his hold tightened on her thigh.

Drew ran one hand down his arm, watching as goosebumps rose on his skin. “My view is pretty perfect too.”

Steve grinned before bending to kiss her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel, making her gasp.

With a low chuckle, he trailed down over her abdomen, kissing, nipping, and sucking a tingling path across her skin.  When he bypassed the apex of her thighs Drew let out a needy whine. Steve raised his eyes to hers and gave a sly smile.

“You…” she growled in frustration, lifting her hips impatiently.

His large hand splayed across her stomach, pressing her down into the couch and preventing her from moving.

“Don’t tease me,” she pleaded desperately.

“But it’s such fun, honey bee,” he hummed, nipping at the sensitive skin of her thigh.

Drew huffed and Steve chuckled at her indignation, the gruffness of his laugh against her skin sending tingles straight to the depths of her belly. 

“Steeeeve,” she whined again, fingers tangling in his hair in an attempt to coax him closer to where she needed him most. 

“Okay, okay,” Steve conceded, lips curling into a devilish smirk as he sucked a bruise to her thigh and peppered the skin with soft, small kisses until his mouth landed warm and wet over the lace of her panties. 

The grip Drew had on Steve’s hair tightened and he groaned into her heat, tongue lapping lazily over the dampening fabric.

“Holy shit,” Drew moaned, her hips arching upward only to be pushed back down again by Steve. 

She lifted her head, wanting to watch him as he swirled his tongue over her clothed clit, making her mouth part in pleasure.

She needed him closer and she knew he was teasing her on purpose as he flattened his tongue and increased the pressure on her clit.

“Asshole,” she gasped in desperation, crossing her ankles across the muscular planes of his back as she tried to draw him closer.

“I know, I know,” he mocked huskily, “I’m such a jerk.” 

“Ste-“ she began but her words caught in her throat as he pulled the lace of her panties to one side and swept his tongue in a languid stripe through her bare folds.

“Oh— oh God,” Drew whimpered as Steve’s lips wrapped around her clit, sucking lightly between long swirls of his tongue. 

Heat pooled in her belly, and there were big, fluttering swoops of desire in her chest. Amongst the surprising sweetness and soft side of Steve, this is what she’d been fucking missing out on too?! 

“How’re you holdin’ up, baby?” Steve’s voice, a little rough and dripping from pink, swollen lips sounded from between her legs. 

“Don’t you dare stop, Steve.” 

Steve grinned, delighted and devilish before he winked and dipped his head again with a murmured, “yes, ma’am.”

Drew gripped Steve’s hair with both hands as she began to rock back and forth. She could feel him play with her, tease and delight her with every stroke of his tongue. 

“Fuck- oh!”

Steve growled, leaving one hand on her ass while the other slowly sank two fingers into her soaking heat.

She clenched around them, the new sensation sending thrills of pleasure up her spine as he dragged them in and out of her at an agonisingly slow pace.

Her heaving breaths were almost sobs when he replaced his lips with his thumb, working her clit in time with his fingers as he began to kiss his way back up her body.

He must have paid attention to every inch of her, nudging her tank top up with his nose and pressing his soft, wet lips against her sweat-damp skin until he reached her neck.

Raising himself up and yet never slowing his pace, Steve trailed his nose along her jaw before capturing her mouth in a salacious kiss.

Each drag of his tongue against hers, each catch of his teeth across the wet skin of her lips,  felt deliberate as if Steve had worked out the perfect formula to bring Drew right to the brink. 

Her whole body was alight with it, muscles tensing and heart racing as her climax coiled tighter and tighter in her belly. She was so close, sighing and whimpering into Steve’s mouth. 

“Let go, honey bee. Wanna hear all the pretty sounds you make,” he whispered, lips trailing along the length of her jaw and catching her earlobe gently between his teeth. “Come on, gorgeous girl, I got you.”

That was all Drew needed, the release washed over her like a tidal wave as Steve worked deep inside of her. His lips found hers in a needy, deep kiss while his hand braced her arching back and supported her as she rolled through the intense pleasure. 

He groaned as her grip on his hair tightened and everything rushed to her head, forcing her eyes to flutter as the euphoria of the orgasm overtook her. Steve pulled away from her gently, teeth grazing her bottom lip as she worked to catch her breath.

“Fuck, look at you,” Steve smiled, his blue eyes alight with pleasure and desire. “Coming so good for me…”

“I…I can’t…I…Jesus…” Drew gasped, a blissful grin blooming lazily across her face.

“Take it easy,” Steve rumbled, nuzzling his nose against her cheek as his hand came up to cup the other.

His thumb swiped away the beads of sweat from the bridge of her nose and he ghosted his lips across her skin as she tried to slow her breathing and calm her heaving chest.

Drew giggled softly and she used her grip on his hair to angle his lips over her own, their deep kisses becoming soft and sweet.

“You okay?” Steve whispered between kisses. His own skin glistened with a soft pink blush of exertion and Drew wanted to spend the rest of the night covering every inch of it with kisses, tracing each freckle and football scar. 

She hummed, nodding her answer into the crook of Steve’s neck before drawing back to meet his gaze, soft and adoring.

“What now?” 

“Now,” Steve replied softly, kissing her again as if he just couldn’t help himself, “now I’m hoping you’ll agree to be my favourite and only girl.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I know I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I’d be a real idiot to miss out on loving you, D.” Drew beamed, surging forward to kiss Steve again until he drew back suddenly. “Hey, you wanna come to my game next week. Wear my jersey?”

"That sounds like trouble, Steve Rogers." Drew smiled, her cheeks sore from doing it for so long. "

"It's a promise." He disagreed. 

A week later she stood in the stands, donning the jersey nervously, heart beating faster than it ever had before as Steve was crushed into the grass by a large defensemen. 

"Nice jersey," Bucky tugged on the hem as he slid into the stands behind her and kissed Nat on the cheek. 

"Just supporting a friend, Buck." Drew said without taking her eyes off the field. 

"You're late," she scolded under her breath. 

"I can't watch him play these big games, makes me sick to my stomach,"  he scowled and his strong hand squeezed Drew's shoulder in support.

“He’ll be fine,” Drew assured. Whether that was for Buck or herself, she didn’t know. She looked over at Bucky and smiled. “I’m sure of it.”

In truth, at the end of the third quarter they weren’t entirely safe and even Drew was chewing nervously at her bottom lip as she watched Steve pelt his way across the field.

She bounced on the balls of her feet and worried at the hem of her jersey.

“C’mon Steve!” She yelled every time his fingers touched the ball.

“What’s gotten into you?” Natasha hissed as the players lined up for the start of the final quarter.

“Nothing!” Drew insisted, craning her neck to catch the start of play and tuning out everything else.

God, it was close. As the minutes ticked down Drew, Bucky, and Natasha found themselves pressed against the rail at the edge of the field. They were screaming to high heaven, their arms flailing, as Steve scooped up the ball and launched it with a powerful throw towards Nick Fury, who took off with it down the field.

“Go, go, go!” Drew shrieked, which turned into squeals of victory as Fury landed the ball just before time was called. 

She found herself pulled from the mass of celebration and almost dragged over the rail as Steve wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a victorious embrace.

His hungry lips claimed hers, unbothered by their audience, and their breathing grew heavier for an entirely different reason. They were so focused on each other that neither of them noticed the smug glances shared between their friends, or the money that slipped begrudgingly into palms.

“C’mon honey bee,” Steve grinned, hoisting her over the rail. “I want the team to meet my girl.”

[supernaturalfreakout]

Revelations pt. 1

[History on Your Side—Chapter 2.] Sam Winchester x Reader

Chapter summary: Sam and Dean make some revelations about the case. *Please see the masterlist for entire work summary and tags* Masterlist | Read on AO3

Back at the motel, Sam retrieved the materials provided by you from his bag. He set them on the wooden table, preparing for an afternoon of research. The sterile glow of the ceiling lights lit up the otherwise dim room, highlighting the mound of books, journals and ancient manuscripts.

Dean sat back in a chair, flipping through the pages of a weathered journal. "Seems like this tribe has quite a history."

Sam nodded, tracing his fingers over the illustrations in one of the books. "Let's dig deeper... see if there's any mention of an event that might have triggered this haunting."

---

The hours slipped away quietly in their motel room as they immersed themselves in the writings. Sam diligently jotted down notes while Dean cross-references multiple sources. The details gradually revealed layers of forgotten tales and unresolved conflicts rooted in the regions past.

"This could be it, Dean." A spark of excitement coloured Sam's voice. "This part here," he pointed, tracing a line in a fading manuscript. "It mentions a tribal conflict that led to an act of betrayal."

Dean's eyes widened as he read through the passage. "Sounds promising."

"We've got to visit the site of the conflict, see if there are any clues left behind," Sam suggested, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

Dean nodded in agreement, his jaw set with determination. "Tomorrow, first thing."

---

Later that day, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, Sam's inbox chimed with an email. He glanced at the screen, surprised to see it was from you. Opening the message, he read your words with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

"Hi Sam, it's Y/N from earlier. Just wanted to drop you a line to let you know I've found some extra notes on the tribe. I've attached what I can, but there are some older records in the department. Feel free to pop round tomorrow if you're interested. - Y/N"

As Sam typed out his reply, Dean leaned over, trying to catch a glimpse of the conversation. "Whatcha writing there, Shakespeare?"

Sam shot him a sideways glance. "Just a thank you. Y/N found more on the tribe. She's offering to help tomorrow."

Dean's curiosity peaked. "Seems our charming reporter act paid off, huh?"

"Seems that way." Sam hit 'send', confirming their meeting for tomorrow. "We'll swing by before the stakeout, better to be prepared."

---

The following day, sunlight filtered through the motel's windows as Sam got ready for the day. He'd already been on his morning run and spent a little longer in the shower than usual. He also spent an extra moment fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, an unconscious effort to look more put together.

“Taking your time there, Sammy,” Dean said, eyeing his brother with a smirk. “Someone got a date with the good doctor?”

Sam rolled his eyes, trying to brush off Dean’s teasing. “Can you give it a rest, please?”

“Sure, sure,” Dean teased, his grin widening. “Just making sure you’re looking your best for our ‘scholarly rendezvous’, that’s all.”

Sam shook his head, sighing deeply as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “Let’s just go, Dean.”

The drive to the university was filled with Dean’s jokes and Sam’s continued attempts to redirect the conversation back to the haunting. Despite his adamancy that he was not phased, Dean was not fooled, watching Sam repetitively fidget with the sleeve of his jacket from the corner of his eye. 

They arrived at the history department and were welcomed by you greeting them with a warm smile. "Hey, Sam, Dean. Glad you could make it. Come on in."

Sam's heart skipped a beat in your presence, but he quickly pushed aside his nerves, focusing on the task at hand.

As they settled into your office, you laid out the notes you'd found, detailing the tribe's history and their interactions with the land. Your passion for history was evident in the way you spoke, and Sam found himself admiring not just your knowledge but also your dedication to your work. Sam contributed his thoughts and ideas, occasionally catching your eye. He tried to push aside any distracting thoughts, reminding himself they were here for the case.

After a lengthy discussion, you glanced at your watch. "I hate to cut this short, but I have a meeting in... two minutes..." Shit! "I hope this has been useful?"

Sam nodded, grateful for your help. "Thanks, and definitely... We really appreciate all your help."

Dean chimed in with a charming grin. "Yeah, thanks for shedding more light on this Doc."

You smiled warmly. "Of course, I'm grateful that my work can make a difference."

Sam smiled. "We're heading to the woodland later, so what you've told us about these landmarks will really help".

"Oh, great, just…well, be careful." You cringed internally. These men were hunters, they've dealt with dangers you've never even contemplated and you're telling them to 'be careful'? You felt like crawling into a hole and dying from embarrassment.

"We always are Doc. Right Sammy?" Dean slapped his brother on the shoulder.

A warmth spread through Sam's chest. "Thanks Y/N, we will be."

"Let me know how it goes? If you don't mind...? I feel like I'm invested in this case now" you chuckled tentatively.

"Uh, yeah, absolutely... Pop your number in and I'll update you once we're safe, how's that?" Sam passed you his phone, a tentative proposition to get your number.

"Sure" you smiled, catching a glint in Sam's eye as you tapped in your details.

"Thanks." As you passed him back his phone, your fingers unintentionally brushed against his, a pang surging through you both as you locked eyes. You quickly averted your gaze, feeling the intensity of his stare. Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you see him smile.

With a final nod, you headed off, a faint blush spreading across your face as you hurried to your meeting.

As you left, Sam couldn't shake off the nervous excitement tingling in his veins. He glanced at Dean, who was sporting a mischievous smirk.

"What?" Sam asked, slightly on edge from his brother's expression.

Dean chuckled. "Smooth moves in there, Sammy."

Sam's cheeks flushed slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on! 'I'll let you know when we're safe'... You're smooth with the ladies."

Sam rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a grin. "I was just being polite!"

"Sure, sure," Dean teased, enjoying Sam's discomfort. "She seemed into it, though. Who knows, maybe she'll slide into your DMs?"

Sam chuckled, feeling both amused and hopeful. "Can we focus on the case, please?"

Dean raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, Mr. Smooth Operator. Let's get to that stakeout. But first, lunch, I'm a starved man!"

---

Sam and Dean decided to grab a quick bite at a nearby diner. Dean had a burger and fries whilst Sam ordered a protein salad. As they sat in a booth, Sam picked at his food, lost in thought about the case and… the way your hand had felt against his skin. Dean, on the other hand, was more focused on the plate of fries in front of him.

"You're quiet, Sammy," Dean noted, dipping a fry into ketchup. "Thoughts on the case?"

Sam looked up from his food, taking a moment to compose his thoughts. "Uh... yeah... all this new information definitely adds up. Y/N really knows her stuff."

Dean nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. She's got a real knack for details."

"And... she seems genuinely interested in helping us." Sam added, casting a glance at Dean.

"Yeah, she's passionate about her work, just like we are."

Sam nodded, becoming lost in his thoughts once again. Maybe she's the missing piece in solving this mess...

---

The day had transitioned into a dull, rainy afternoon. Dean maneuvered the Impala through the foggy roads, the rain tapping a steady rhythm on the car's roof. A soft grey hue veiled the horizon, the dimming daylight casting an eerie glow over the landscape. As they arrived at the woodland, the rain surpassed into a fine drizzle, surprisingly freshening against their skin.

Sam carried his phone, having snapped a picture of a map detailing the historical landmarks belonging to the tribe. An ancient tomb, nested at the edge of the clearing, held the most hope, so they began their search there.

Sam consulted the map under the dimming light, occasionally glancing up to gauge their surroundings.

Dean squinted through the drizzle, his eyes darting between the rocks jutting from the ground barely visible in the fading daylight. "This place gives me the creeps, Sammy. Feels like something's watching us."

"Yeah, well, that's kinda the job description."

They pressed on, their boots squelching in the soft mud. The mist thickened, swirling around them, adding an eerie quality to the already haunted scene.

Suddenly, Sam stopped, his gaze fixed on a moss-covered stone embedded in the side of a hill. "Look Dean! Here… this sigil, it matches the one in Y/N's book earlier."

"I'll be darned." Dean peered at the rockface, raindrops trickling down its weathered surface. "Think it's safe to assume that it's not going to be a straightforward 'dig and burn' situation?"

Sam nodded. "Records suggest the tribe burn their dead. The spirit must be tied here another way."

Dean nodded, as he pulled out the EMF. It started to buzz straight away. "Well, I think we've struck gold, this is definitely the place".

The brother's kept up their guard, looking out for any potential danger, but none came.

"Strange" Dean mused. "There hasn't been a sighting in a few weeks, but the dude's clearly here. Ever heard of a shy ghost?"

"Beats me" said Sam. "Come on, let's head back, no need to piss him off before we know how to finish him".

---

As they returned to the rundown motel room, the rain picked up again, the sky deepening. The brothers kicked off their boots and shrugged out of their wet jackets.

Dean lounged on a creaky chair, flicking on the TV as he kicked his feet on the table. Sam sat on the edge of his bed, taking his phone from his pocket. He scanned through his contact list to find your name and typed out a message.

"Hey Y/N, it's Sam. We're back, safe and sound! Thanks again for all your help. Hope your meeting went well?"

A few minutes later, a notification buzzed. Sam quickly unlocked his phone to read your reply.

"Hey Sam! Glad to hear you guys made it back safely. My meeting was fine, thanks! How'd it go? Did you find what you were looking for?"

Sam smiled at your response, your enthusiasm evident even in the text. He started typing out a reply when Dean interrupted, flicking through the channels with a bored expression.

"Sammy, what are you grinning about over there?"

Sam remained focused on his phone screen. "Uh, nothing... Just catching up on messages."

Dean arched an eyebrow. "Uh-huh, sure. Anything interesting?"

Sam shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool. "Just updating Y/N like I said I would. Nothing major."

Dean chuckled, turning back to the TV.

Sam rolled his eyes and continued tapping out his message.

"We found the tomb-definitely a ghost there, but as there's no bones, I'm thinking we're going to need a spell of some sort."

As the evening passed, Sam eagerly checked his phone, awaiting your next reply. But none came. After a few hours he resigned himself to thinking that you must be busy, asleep, or uninterested, until his phone started to ring. He glanced at the caller ID, eyes torn from the crappy TV show Dean was watching. It was you.

Butterflies formed in his stomach as he straightened up from where he had been reclining against his bed. "Hey, Y/N, what's up?"

Dean's ears pricked up.

"Sam..." Your voice came through with a hint of excitement and breathlessness. "Hope you don't mind me calling, but after your message, I had a look through some old texts, and… I think I've found something… a spell…I think... I'm not too sure..."

Sam's heart quickened at the prospect. "What?! Really?!"

Dean eyed Sam with curiosity.

"Are you busy? I mean…It's just that, I think you need to see this, like…now."

"Uh, okay, yeah, of course, we'll be right there. Where shall we meet you?".

"I'll text you my address, thanks Sam…see you soon."

"What's going on?" Dean asked, pressingly, as a text lit up Sam's phone.

"Y/N thinks she's found a spell... we need to go!"

Chapter 3

[velting]

Blood Lock

CHAPTER 2

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of the dorm room, casting a warm glow over the modest space. [Name] stirred in her bed, the soft chirping of birds outside the window pulling her from a pleasant dream. She blinked her mismatched eyes open, the familiar sight of the ceiling coming into focus. The faint sound of movement caught her attention, and she turned her head to see her roommate, Hitomi Kurosawa, already awake and seated at her desk.

“Good morning, [Name],” Hitomi greeted softly, her voice calm but carrying its usual reserved tone. She had a cup of tea in hand, the light aroma of jasmine filling the room. Her dark violet eyes, framed by the dark circles beneath them, looked up from her notebook briefly as she acknowledged her friend.

“Morning, Hitomi,” [Name] replied with a sleepy smile, stretching her long limbs as she sat up. “You’re up early. Working on something?”

“Not really,” Hitomi said, glancing down at her notes. “Just reviewing some things for class. You should get ready; today might be a busy one.”

[Name] nodded, pushing herself out of bed and grabbing her towel and toiletries. “I’ll take a quick shower and be right back.”

The bathroom was warm, steam swirling around as [Name] turned on the water, letting it cascade over her tired body. It was a moment of peace, the soft rhythm of water against the tiles soothing her. As she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, she found her thoughts wandering. She couldn’t help but smile at how quickly she was adapting to this new life on campus. Despite Ruka’s overprotectiveness, she was determined to make the most of her time here.

When [Name] returned to the room, her damp hair wrapped in a towel, Hitomi was perched on her bed, her phone in hand. She looked up with a slight smile. “So, I was wondering—do you want to hang out today? My cousin Nagi and his friend Reo are free, and they wanted to grab coffee. Thought it’d be fun to introduce you.”

[Name] paused mid-step, her expression lighting up at the idea. “That sounds great! But…” She hesitated, glancing at her own phone. “You know how Ruka is. I’ll have to ask him first.”

Hitomi rolled her eyes playfully. “He’s not going to let you have any fun at this rate. Just call him and get it over with.”

[Name] laughed nervously and dialed her cousin’s number. It rang only once before Ruka picked up.

“What’s wrong?” Ruka’s voice came through, firm and alert.

“Nothing’s wrong, Ruka,” [Name] assured him quickly. “I just wanted to ask if I could go out today with Hitomi and her friends.”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a flat, “No.”

[Name] groaned. “Come on, Ruka! It’s just coffee, and it’s on campus. I’ll be with Hitomi the whole time. You know her.”

“I don’t trust anyone else, especially not Hitomi’s friends,” Ruka replied, his tone unyielding. “I can’t take any chances.”

“Please, Ruka?” [Name] pleaded, softening her voice. “I’ll text you where we’re going, and I promise I’ll check in. You can’t keep me cooped up forever. I need to meet people, too.”

Ruka sighed heavily on the other end. “Fine. But only because I trust you. Not them. If anything feels off, you call me immediately. Got it?”

“Got it! Thanks, Ruka!” [Name] grinned and hung up before he could change his mind. She turned to Hitomi with a triumphant smile. “We’re good to go.”

Hitomi smirked. “About time. Now, let’s get ready.”

Dressed in casual yet stylish outfits, the girls made their way to the café. Hitomi led the way, her stride confident as she dragged [Name] along by the wrist. To [Name]’s surprise, their destination was the same café she had visited with Ruka the previous day.

Inside, the atmosphere was as lively as before, filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the murmur of conversations. Hitomi scanned the room before spotting two familiar figures seated in a booth near the back.

“There they are,” she said, pulling [Name] along.

[Name]’s eyes widened as she approached. One of the boys, with messy white hair, was slouched in his seat, his attention glued to his phone. The other, a sharply dressed boy with vibrant purple hair, looked up and waved enthusiastically.

“Hey, Hitomi! You actually showed up,” Reo Mikage greeted with a wide smile, standing up briefly to give Hitomi a light hug.

“Of course I did. You’re lucky I even dragged [Name] here,” Hitomi replied, gesturing to her roommate.

Reo’s gaze shifted to [Name], and his smile widened. “Oh, so this is the famous roommate? Nice to meet you! I’m Reo Mikage.”

[Name] smiled politely. “Nice to meet you too. I’m [Name] Sanzuku.”

Reo gestured to the slouching figure beside him. “And this lazy guy over here is my best friend, Nagi Seishiro.”

“Hi,” Seishiro said without looking up, his voice monotone.

[Name] blinked, a little taken aback by his indifference, but she smiled regardless. “Nice to meet you, Nagi.”

The four of them settled into the booth, with Seishiro sitting next to [Name] and Reo beside Hitomi. Reo took the lead in the conversation, his energy infectious as he chatted with [Name] and Hitomi about everything from campus life to their favorite cafés. Seishiro, however, remained glued to his phone, only occasionally mumbling a response when prompted.

“So, [Name],” Reo asked, leaning forward with a curious glint in his eyes, “what’s your story? How do you like the campus so far?”

“It’s been great so far,” [Name] said with a smile. “Though it’s a lot bigger than I expected. Ruka’s been showing me around, but I’m still getting used to it.”

Reo chuckled. “Stick with us, and we’ll make sure you know all the good spots.”

As the conversation flowed, [Name] occasionally glanced at Seishiro, who sat beside her, his tall frame almost slouched into her personal space. She noticed him peek at her from the corner of his eye before quickly returning his attention to his game.

“You play games a lot?” she asked, attempting to include him in the conversation.

“Yeah,” Seishiro replied simply, finally turning his head slightly to look at her. “It’s easier than dealing with people.”

[Name] couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Fair enough. But you’re here with people now.”

“Yeah, because Reo made me,” Nagi said, though his tone wasn’t as sharp as it could have been. There was a faint hint of amusement in his expression.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The café buzzed with quiet activity, the low hum of conversations blending with the soft clinking of cups and plates. Warm light spilled over the polished wooden tables, illuminating the booth where [Name] sat with her new companions. The aroma of fresh coffee mingled with the faint sweetness of pastries, creating a soothing atmosphere.

[Name] took a small sip of her latte, her mismatched eyes crinkling in amusement as Reo animatedly explained one of his latest business ventures. Hitomi sat beside him, occasionally rolling her eyes at his enthusiasm but clearly enjoying his company. Across from them, Seishiro remained slouched in his seat, his phone still occupying his attention as his fingers lazily swiped across the screen.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, though [Name] couldn’t help but notice Seishiro’s detachment. She glanced at him briefly, curious about what game could hold his focus so intently. However, before she could say anything, Seishiro shifted in his seat, leaning slightly closer to her.

At first, [Name] thought nothing of it, assuming he was simply adjusting his posture. But when Seishiro’s shoulder brushed against hers, her body stiffened. Without a word, he leaned further, his head resting gently against her shoulder. The unexpected contact sent a jolt through her, her cheeks immediately flushing a deep pink.

“N-Nagi?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t respond right away, his pale lashes fluttering as he inhaled subtly. His expression, usually blank and indifferent, softened as his lips parted slightly. There was something about her scent—a mix of her natural sweetness and the faint floral notes of her shampoo—that stirred something wild within him. A primal instinct buried deep in his cold heart awakened, pounding against his chest like a caged beast.

“Why… are you leaning on her?” Hitomi’s voice broke through the moment, sharp with irritation. Her violet eyes narrowed as she glared at her cousin. “Seriously, Seishi!, stop being so immature.”

“Hmm?” Seishiro finally opened his eyes, glancing at Hitomi lazily before shifting his gaze to [Name]. He made no effort to move, instead tilting his head slightly so that a lock of her hair brushed against his cheek. “She smells nice.”

Hitomi’s eye twitched. “That’s not an excuse to invade her personal space! Get off her!”

Ignoring her, Seishiro reached up, his fingers curling around a strand of [Name]’s hair. He twirled it idly, his gaze distant yet focused. “Her hair feels soft. Smooth. Kinda nice to play with.”

[Name]’s blush deepened, her heart thudding wildly in her chest. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, and the way Nagi’s cool, disinterested tone contrasted with his actions left her flustered and unsure of how to respond.

“Hey, Nagi,” Reo cut in, his voice firm but not unkind. “Cut it out. You’re making her uncomfortable.”

Seishiro groaned softly, as if Reo’s words were an enormous inconvenience. With a slow, reluctant movement, he pulled away, leaning back into his side of the booth. His phone was back in his hand within seconds, his expression unreadable once more. “Fine, what a hassle” he muttered, though his eyes flicked back to [Name] occasionally, the faintest glimmer of something lingering in his gaze.

Hitomi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Sorry about that, [Name]. He’s always like this—lazy and weird.”

“Yeah, my bad,” Reo added, scratching the back of his head. “He doesn’t really understand boundaries sometimes.”

[Name] shook her head quickly, waving her hands in a dismissive gesture. “It’s okay, really! I’m not upset or anything. It just… caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Hitomi didn’t look convinced, but she let it drop, turning the conversation back to lighter topics. They ordered a few pastries to share, their plates quickly filling with buttery croissants and delicate slices of cake. The group chatted comfortably as they ate, [Name] learning more about her new friends.

“So, where are you from?” Reo asked, his tone genuinely curious as he sipped his coffee.

“Kyoto,” [Name] replied, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I grew up there with my family. It’s a beautiful place, but I wanted to explore somewhere new for college.”

“That’s cool,” Reo said with a nod. “Kyoto’s got some great architecture. I’ve been there a couple of times for family trips. What do you like to do in your free time?”

“Basketball, mostly,” she said, her smile brightening. “I’ve been playing since I was a kid. It’s kind of my passion.”

Reo grinned. “No way! I used to play basketball, too. Maybe we’ll have to hit the court sometime.”

“You’ll lose,” Seishiro mumbled from his side of the booth, not looking up from his phone.

Reo shot him a playful glare. “Says the guy who can’t even be bothered to get out of bed half the time.”

Hitomi snickered, and even [Name] couldn’t suppress a giggle. The lighthearted banter continued, filling the booth with laughter. Though Seishiro remained mostly silent, his presence felt heavier now, his occasional glances at [Name] carrying an intensity she couldn’t quite place.

As the afternoon wore on, the group eventually finished their drinks and desserts. They stood to leave, Hitomi stretching her arms above her head. [Name] couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of emotions as they walked out of the café. Despite Nagi’s aloof demeanor, there was something about his quiet attention that lingered in her mind.

For Seishiro, the pull toward [Name] only grew stronger with every stolen glance. The faint scent of her hair, the soft sound of her laughter—it all stirred something dangerous within him. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his fingers twitching as he resisted the urge to reach out again. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t normal. This was something primal, instinctual.

As the group parted ways outside the café, Seishiro’s cold gaze lingered on [Name]’s retreating figure. His heart, usually so still, thundered in his chest. She was more than intriguing—she was irresistible. And the more he tried to push the feeling away, the stronger it became.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The shopping district buzzed with life, its vibrant streets bathed in the warm glow of golden hour. Neon signs flickered above boutique windows, and cheerful chatter filled the air as shoppers moved from one store to another. [Name] and Hitomi strolled through the bustling streets, their arms loaded with bags filled with clothes and accessories. They laughed and teased each other, stopping occasionally to peer at glittering jewelry or try on quirky hats at small pop-up stalls.

“This one would look so cute on you!” [Name] giggled, holding up a pair of cat-ear headbands toward Hitomi.

Hitomi rolled her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. “You’re relentless, aren’t you? We’re here for clothes, not cosplay accessories.”

“But it’s cute!” [Name] protested, placing the headband on her own head and striking a playful pose. “See? I could totally pull it off.”

Hitomi chuckled, shaking her head. “Alright, fine. You win this round. Let’s head over to the next store before you drag me into more trouble.”

They wandered into another boutique, admiring the racks of floral skirts, pastel cardigans, and sparkling necklaces. After making a few purchases, Hitomi suddenly shifted uneasily.

“Hey, I need to make a quick stop,” she said, glancing toward a nearby sign for the restrooms. “Can you hold onto these for me?”

[Name] nodded, adjusting the straps of her bags as Hitomi handed hers over. “Sure! I’ll guard them with my life.”

“Don’t let anyone steal my stuff,” Hitomi warned, her tone half-serious as she walked away.

Now alone, [Name] waited patiently near a decorative lamppost, the faint hum of street performers playing nearby filling the air. She adjusted her grip on the bags, glancing at the small crowd gathered to watch a juggler perform with flaming batons. But her peaceful moment was short-lived. As she turned to check her phone, she accidentally collided with someone walking past her.

The force knocked both of them to the ground, her bags spilling onto the pavement. Startled, [Name] scrambled to gather the scattered contents, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, looking up to see the person she’d bumped into.

The boy she’d collided with rubbed the back of his head, sitting on the ground. He looked to be her age, maybe a little older, with short black hair and a striking tuft of red in the middle. His large, starry eyes blinked in surprise as he turned to her, a v-shaped smile spreading across his face. His tan skin seemed to glow under the warm sunlight, and his toned physique was hard to ignore even in casual clothes.

“Oh, no worries!” he said cheerfully, his voice light and warm. “That was my fault, too. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

[Name] smiled sheepishly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she continued picking up the spilled bags. “Still, I’m really sorry. I can be pretty clumsy sometimes.”

The boy chuckled, kneeling to help her. “Don’t sweat it. Happens to the best of us.”

As their hands brushed while reaching for the same bag, [Name] glanced up, their eyes meeting. She noticed the faint red tint spreading across his cheeks, his smile faltering slightly as his gaze lingered on her. Something about her mismatched eyes and the soft kindness in her expression made his heart race.

“Y-you’re really pretty,” he blurted out, then immediately froze, his face turning a deeper shade of red. “I-I mean—uh, sorry, that was out of nowhere. I just—”

[Name] blinked, then laughed softly, her own cheeks turning pink. “Thank you, I guess?” she said, unsure of how to respond to such an unexpected compliment.

The boy scratched the back of his neck, averting his gaze in embarrassment. “I’m Akira. Akira Endoji,” he said quickly, as if hoping to change the subject.

“[Name] Sanzuku,” she replied, extending her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Akira.”

He took her hand, his grip firm yet careful, and gave her a wide grin. “The pleasure’s mine, [Name].”

After they finished gathering the bags, Akira hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat. “Hey, um… I don’t mean to be weird or anything, but could I—uh—maybe get your number? You know, so I can pay you back for running into you or something.”

[Name] tilted her head, her smile widening. “You don’t owe me anything, but sure.” She handed him her phone, and he quickly entered his number, his hands slightly shaky.

“Thanks!” he said, his voice a little too loud in his excitement. Realizing this, he quickly toned it down. “I mean, uh, cool. Thanks.”

They parted ways after that, with Akira waving enthusiastically as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was out of sight, he pulled out his phone and texted his friends.

Akira: “GUYS. I JUST MET THE MOST AMAZING GIRL. HER NAME’S [Name]. I GOT HER NUMBER. SHE’S PERFECT.”

Meanwhile, [Name] stood near the lamppost, shaking her head with a small smile. She wasn’t entirely sure why he seemed so flustered, but his earnestness was endearing.

“Sorry for the wait!” Hitomi’s voice called out as she returned. “Did anything happen?”

“Oh, nothing much,” [Name] said, her tone light as she handed over Hitomi’s bags. “Just bumped into someone.”

“Did they give you a hard time?” Hitomi asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No, no! He was really sweet,” [Name] reassured her, though she decided to leave out the part about exchanging numbers.

Hitomi raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Alright, then. Let’s keep shopping before the stores close.”

With that, the two girls resumed their spree, laughter and chatter following them as they explored more stores. Unbeknownst to [Name], however, she had already left a lasting impression on Akira—and her scent, smile, and warm voice were now deeply etched into his mind.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The sun was beginning to set as [Name] and Hitomi made their way back to campus, the vibrant hues of pink and orange painting the sky in a serene display. Their shopping bags swayed with each step as they strolled up the stone-paved path toward the towering wrought-iron entrance gates.

As they approached, [Name] spotted a familiar figure leaning casually against the gate. Ruka stood with one hand tucked into his pocket and the other holding his phone, his sharp gaze focused on the screen. The faint glow of the device illuminated his face, highlighting his cool, nonchalant demeanor. He exuded an air of effortless confidence, but the way his eyes flicked up the moment he saw [Name] betrayed his relief.

“There you are,” Ruka called, straightening his posture and slipping his phone into his pocket. His tone was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge of worry beneath his words. “You’re late.”

[Name] rolled her eyes playfully. “We’re only late by, what, ten minutes? It’s not like I was kidnapped.”

Hitomi smirked, clearly enjoying Ruka’s overprotectiveness. “Relax, Ruka. She’s fine. No scratches, no bruises. I made sure she stayed out of trouble.”

Ruka gave her a flat look, his lips curling into a sarcastic smile. “Oh, thanks so much for your concern, Hitomi. I’ll be sure to call you the next time I need a babysitter.”

Hitomi didn’t miss a beat, crossing her arms as she squared up to him. “I’m serious, Ruka. You need to loosen the leash on her. [Name] isn’t a kid. She can handle herself.”

Ruka’s brow twitched, his usual calm veneer slipping as he stepped closer. “You think I’m just being paranoid!? Maybe you don’t know this campus as well as I do. There are!…uh… Guys around here who’d love to take advantage of someone like her!”

[Name] raised a brow at the odd emphasis he put on the word guys, but Hitomi wasn’t backing down. “And you think coddling her is going to solve that? What’s she supposed to do when you’re not around, Ruka? Hide under a rock?”

The two stared each other down, the tension between them thickening as their voices rose.

“You don’t get it,” Ruka said, his tone sharp. “This isn’t your business, Hitomi.”

Hitomi narrowed her eyes. “It is my business when you act like she can’t make her own decisions. Newsflash, she’s eighteen, not eight!”

“Enough!” [Name]’s voice rang out, cutting through their argument like a blade. Both Ruka and Hitomi froze, turning to her with startled expressions. She let out an exasperated sigh, her hands clutching her shopping bags tightly.

“This is ridiculous,” [Name] said, her voice firm. “Ruka, I appreciate that you’re worried about me, but you can’t be by my side all the time. You’re part of New Gen 11. You have your own life, your own responsibilities. And as much as I love you for looking out for me, I’m not a damsel in distress!!”

Ruka’s expression softened, but she wasn’t done yet. “And Hitomi, I know you mean well, but pushing Ruka like that doesn’t help either. He’s just trying to protect me. I get that. But I need you both to trust me. I can handle myself.”

The air grew still for a moment as her words settled in. Ruka sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright,” he muttered reluctantly. “You’re right. I’ve been hovering too much. Guess I can’t keep treating you like a kid forever.”

Hitomi glanced at [Name], then back at Ruka. Her stance relaxed, and she offered a small, sheepish smile. “Maybe I was a bit harsh. Sorry for jumping down your throat.”

Ruka gave a wry smile, holding out a hand. “Apology accepted. Guess I owe you one too. I might’ve overreacted.”

Hitomi smirked and took his hand, shaking it firmly. “You definitely overreacted.”

[Name] let out a relieved laugh, the tension finally melting away. “See? That wasn’t so hard. You two should argue less and bond more. You might actually get along.”

Ruka chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at his cousin. “I’ll try, but no promises.”

Hitomi grinned. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As the three of them walked through the gates and into the campus, the night air carried a newfound sense of harmony. [Name] couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could all find a way to coexist peacefully. For now, though, she was content knowing they were finally on the same page—or at least close enough.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The canteen was alive with the chatter of students enjoying their meals, laughter occasionally punctuating the din. [Name], Ruka, and Hitomi sat at a cozy corner table, their trays laden with food. The inviting aroma of freshly baked bread and the sweet notes of coffee mingled in the air. The room’s large windows allowed the midday sunlight to stream in, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden tables and gleaming tiled floors.

[Name] leaned forward eagerly, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I can’t wait for my psychology class! It was my favorite subject back in high school. There’s something so fascinating about understanding how people think and behave. I already know a lot about basic concepts like cognitive development and behavioral theories, so I’m excited to dive deeper!”

Hitomi smiled, twirling a strand of her short hair. “Wow, [Name], that’s impressive! I don’t think I’d have the patience for that. It seems like so much to remember.”

[Name] chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s not as hard as it sounds! Once you start seeing patterns in behavior, it becomes like solving a puzzle. Plus, it’s really rewarding when you figure someone out.”

Ruka, who had been quietly eating his meal, frowned slightly. He set his fork down with a sigh, his sharp red eyes focused on his cousin. “Your psychology professor is Mr. Luna, isn’t it?”

[Name] blinked, her head tilting slightly. “Yeah, that’s his name. Do you know him?”

Ruka’s jaw tightened, and his gaze shifted to the table. “I know him. Leonardo Luna isn’t just any professor. He’s sharp and demanding, but he’s also got this… way of getting under your skin. He doesn’t tolerate mistakes, and he enjoys challenging his students in ways that aren’t always pleasant.”

Hitomi raised an eyebrow, her tone skeptical. “Sounds like you’ve had some experience with him.”

Ruka’s lips pressed into a thin line, his voice low. “Let’s just say we didn’t part on the best of terms. I’m not thrilled about him being your professor.”

[Name], sensing his unease, reached across the table and lightly touched his arm. “Don’t worry, Ruka. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m good at staying focused, and I can handle a tough teacher.”

Ruka’s expression softened slightly, but the tension in his posture remained. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. He’s not someone you want to underestimate.”

Before the conversation could turn heavier, Hitomi pulled out her schedule with a grin. “Hey, look at this! We’re in Business class together, [Name]. Finally, someone I know who won’t be glued to their phone or sleeping through lectures.”

[Name]’s eyes lit up. “That’s awesome! At least I’ll have someone to talk to in that class.”

Ruka leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a resigned sigh. “Lucky you two. I don’t share a single class with her. Just lunch, that's all.”

Hitomi smirked. “You sound like a parent dropping their kid off at school for the first time.”

Ruka shot her a glare, but [Name] laughed, patting his arm again. “It’s okay, Ruka. You don’t have to watch over me all the time. I’ll be fine.”

He gave her a small, reluctant smile, though his eyes betrayed lingering worry.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

After finishing most of her meal, [Name] excused herself to go to the restroom. The girls’ bathroom was pristine and elegant, with gleaming tiles and ornate mirrors framed in silver. She washed her hands, the cool water refreshing against her skin, and glanced at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were still slightly flushed from all the excitement.

The bathrooms were as pristine as the rest of the campus. Marble countertops gleamed under bright lighting, and the faint scent of lavender hung in the air. After washing her hands, [Name] took a moment to adjust her glasses in the mirror, her reflection staring back with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation for the day ahead.

“Alright,” she said to herself, smoothing the ribbons on her twin-tails. “Back to the table.”

As she walked back, her thoughts drifted to the conversation about Mr. Luna. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice someone approaching from the other direction until they collided. Her bag slipped from her shoulder as she stumbled back.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” [Name] exclaimed, bowing slightly in apology.

“It’s fine, really,” came a calm, lilting voice.

[Name] looked up, her eyes meeting a striking pair of magenta ones. The young man before her had pale skin and light brown hair that faded to magenta at the edges. His ever-present smile, warm and disarming, put her at ease despite the initial shock of their encounter.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his tone polite and measured.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m really sorry,” she said again, blushing slightly.

The man chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No harm done. I’m Alexis Ness, by the way.”

[Name] smiled, her cheeks still warm. “I’m [Name]. It’s nice to meet you.”

Alexis’s magenta gaze lingered on her for a moment, his smile never faltering. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

[Name] nodded. “Yeah, I’m starting tomorrow. It’s been a little overwhelming, but I’m managing.”

“That’s good to hear,” Alexis said, stepping closer. “Say, why don’t you join me? I know a place that’s a bit more… exclusive than the canteen.”

[Name] hesitated, her instincts warning her to decline. “Um, I should probably get back to my friends…”

But Alexis’s smile didn’t waver. Instead, he gently took her hand, his grip firm but not forceful. “Come on,” he said softly, his tone persuasive. “It’ll be worth it.”

“Wait, I—” [Name] started, but before she could protest further, Alexis was already leading her down the hallway.

They stopped in front of a pair of enormous black double doors adorned with crimson carvings. The air here felt colder, and [Name] couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling creeping up her spine. Alexis pushed the doors open with a dramatic flourish, revealing a room that looked like it belonged in a gothic castle.

The walls were painted deep shades of black and red, adorned with intricate gothic patterns. Black crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting an eerie glow over the room. Plush velvet furniture in crimson and ebony lined the space, and the faint scent of roses and aged wood filled the air. It was opulent and intimidating, a stark contrast to the lively campus outside.

“What is this place?” [Name] asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alexis turned to her, his magenta eyes glinting. “Welcome to the New Gen 11’s club room. This is where the elite gather, and you, [Name], are our special guest.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Back in the canteen, Ruka tapped his fingers against the table, his sharp red eyes darting toward the door every few seconds. Hitomi raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re acting like a helicopter parent again.”

“She’s been gone too long,” Ruka muttered, standing abruptly.

Hitomi waved a hand dismissively. “Relax. She probably got lost or stopped to chat with someone.”

Ruka’s frown deepened. “No, something’s not right.”

He left the table and hurried toward the girls bathroom doors, but his heart sank when she didn’t respond back from his reply, indicating that the bathroom was empty. His voice was tight with worry as he returned to Hitomi. “She’s not there.”

Hitomi’s teasing demeanor vanished. “What do you mean? Maybe she went back to the dorms?”

“No,” Ruka said, his voice rising. “She wouldn’t leave without telling me.”

Without another word, he turned and sprinted out of the canteen, his heart pounding as he searched the campus. A growing sense of dread filled him as he realized his cousin might be in trouble.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] sat in an opulent velvet chair, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns embroidered into its armrests. The gothic grandeur of the New Gen 11’s club room surrounded her, its eerie elegance both mesmerizing and unsettling. Alexis stood a few feet away, his magenta eyes glinting as he handed her a delicate porcelain cup filled with rosemary tea.

“Thank you,” [Name] said softly, her hands cradling the warm cup.

Alexis’s ever-present smile widened slightly, his tone smooth and reassuring. “It’s my pleasure. Consider it a welcoming gesture.”

She took a small sip, the fragrant tea calming her nerves somewhat. The silence that followed wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, but [Name] couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being studied. Alexis leaned casually against the back of a nearby chair, his gaze fixed on her, though he didn’t speak.

The heavy creak of the double doors opening broke the quiet. [Name] turned toward the sound, and her breath caught in her throat as a tall figure strode into the room.

There he was: Michael Kaiser in the flesh.

The man who entered had an undeniable presence, the kind that drew attention effortlessly. His blue eyes sparkled like sapphires, framed by red eyeliner that added a touch of drama to his gaze. His blonde hair fell into a striking mullet, accented by streaks of vivid blue that matched the two rat-tails cascading from the back of his head. The New Gen 11 uniform he wore was tailored perfectly to his form, the dark fabric contrasting with his pale skin and emphasizing the blue rose tattoos that crept up his neck, extending in intricate thorny vines down his left arm. At the crown of the tattoo on his hand was a keyhole, as if it hinted at secrets only he could unlock.

[Name] started, her heart racing as she tried to process his otherworldly beauty. She’d never seen anyone like him before—he seemed like he had stepped straight out of a painting.

Michael’s lips curled into a smile, a mix of charm and smugness. “Ah, I see Alexis has been entertaining our new guest,” he said, his voice rich with a German accent that only added to his allure.

[Name]’s cheeks flushed as he approached, every step deliberate and filled with confidence. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he continued, placing a hand over his chest in a theatrical gesture. “I am Michael Kaiser, the brightest star of this world, and the Emperor of the gods”

[Name] blinked, unsure of how to respond. “Uh, I-I’m [Name] Sanzuku,” she stammered, feeling her face grow warmer under his intense gaze.

Michael’s smile didn’t waver as he took her hand lightly on his own and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers. “A pleasure, Miss Sanzuku.”

Behind her, Alexis moved to pour another cup of tea, his movements quiet and precise. “Would you like a cup, Kaiser?” he asked, his voice polite but lacking warmth.

“Of course,” Michael replied smoothly, settling into a chair across from [Name]. His piercing blue eyes remained locked on her as Alexis handed him the steaming tea.

“So,” Michael began, swirling the cup delicately in his hand, “how are you finding your second day here? Adjusting well, I hope?”

[Name] felt her words catch in her throat. She’d never been this flustered around someone before, but Michael’s presence was overwhelming in the best—and worst—ways. “It’s… been good so far,” she managed, her voice soft. “A little overwhelming, but everyone’s been kind.”

Michael tilted his head, his expression amused. “Kindness is overrated,” he said, his tone teasing. “But I’m glad to hear you’re not finding it too daunting. After all, college is meant to challenge you in ways you’d never expect.”

[Name] nodded, her fingers tightening slightly around her cup. “I guess… it’s all part of growing, right?”

“Indeed,” Michael said, his lips curling into a smirk. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing just enough to make her squirm in her seat. “But I imagine someone like you handles challenges with ease. You seem… different from most.”

Her blush deepened. She wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or something else entirely, but the way he spoke made her heart flutter. “Th-thank you,” she said quickly, glancing away in an attempt to compose herself.

Michael took a slow sip of his tea, savoring the moment. Outwardly, he maintained his poised demeanor, but deep down, he was struggling. Her blush, her soft voice, the innocence radiating from her—it was intoxicating. The scent of her blood, faint but undeniable, sent a primal hunger surging through him. He clenched his jaw subtly, forcing himself to remain in control.

So sweet. So fragile. So… delicious.

He exhaled quietly, setting the teacup down with a steady hand. Not now. Not here. Michael was no fool; giving in to his desires would ruin the game, and Michael Kaiser always played to win.

Clearing his throat, he shifted the conversation. “Tell me, [Name], what’s your major? Surely someone as intriguing as you has chosen something equally fascinating.”

[Name] hesitated, her voice shy but steady. “I’m studying psychology. It’s something I’ve always been interested in.”

“Psychology?” Michael repeated, leaning back in his chair. His smile widened, and though it remained charming, there was a glint of something darker in his eyes. “How fitting. Understanding the mind is a valuable skill… though, some minds are harder to unravel than others.”

Alexis, who had been observing silently, finally spoke up. “Kaiser, don’t overwhelm her on her first day. She’s already adjusting to so much.”

Michael waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense, Alexis. I’m simply getting to know our guests. Isn’t that what a good host does?”

[Name] chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond. She could feel the tension between the two men, though it wasn’t entirely clear what it stemmed from.

Michael’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he appeared genuinely interested. “You’re fascinating, [Name],” he said, his voice lower now. “I can already tell you’re going to bring something special to this place.”

[Name]’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure if it was the compliment or the way he said it, but something about his words made her feel seen—yet also vulnerable. She offered a small, shy smile. “Thank you. That’s… very kind of you to say.”

Michael’s smirk returned, but the way his blue eyes lingered on her made her wonder if she’d stepped into something far more complicated than she realized. The pleasant atmosphere in the New Gen 11 room shifted abruptly as the heavy doors slammed open, their echo reverberating through the gothic chamber like thunder. [Name] flinched at the sound, her teacup trembling slightly in her hands.

All eyes turned toward the entrance where Ruka Sanzuku stood, his tall frame rigid with fury. His crimson eyes burned like embers as they locked onto Michael, who sat leisurely in his chair, exuding unbothered confidence.

“[Name],” Ruka’s voice was low and sharp, though it quickly rose in intensity. “What are you doing here with him?!”

Before [Name] could respond, Ruka’s gaze darted to Michael. The vampire’s smirk grew wider, as if he had been expecting this exact reaction.

“You.” Ruka’s tone was venomous as he began to march forward, his boots clicking sharply against the stone floor. “Back. Off.”

Michael, entirely unfazed, leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, sipping his tea with maddening nonchalance. “Ah, Ruka, what an enthusiastic entrance. You always know how to make a scene.”

The smirk on Michael’s face only deepened, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Relax, I was just having a friendly chat with [Name]. Is that a crime?”

Ruka didn’t slow his pace, his shoulders taut with anger. “Don’t you dare talk about her like you know her,” he growled, his fists clenching at his sides. “Stay the hell away from my cousin!”

Before the distance could close further, [Name] shot up from her seat, quickly stepping between the two. Her wide, worried eyes met Ruka’s fiery gaze as she held up her hands to stop him.

“Ruka, please!” she pleaded, her voice trembling slightly. “Don’t do this. Calm down!”

Ruka’s jaw tightened as his eyes darted to [Name]. “Do you even know who this bastard is?” he barked, pointing accusingly at Michael. “He’s dangerous, [Name]!”

Behind her, Michael chuckled softly, the sound low and mocking. “Dangerous? You wound me, Ruka,” he said, feigning offense. “I’ve been nothing but a gentleman.”

Beside Michael, Alexis Ness stood with a taunting smirk on his face, his magenta eyes flickering with amusement as he watched the scene unfold. “Seems like someone’s a little overprotective,” Alexis teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Jealous, perhaps?”

Ruka snapped his glare to Alexis, his rage flaring even further. “You shut your damn mouth,” he snarled, his voice echoing in the chamber.

“Ruka, stop!” [Name]’s voice rose sharply, her hands gripping his arm to hold him back. She looked up at him, her face filled with desperation. “This isn’t the way. You’re only making things worse!”

Ruka’s chest heaved as he tried to reign in his anger, but the mocking smirk on Michael’s face only fueled the fire. “Listen to her, Ruka,” Michael said smoothly, his tone laced with amusement. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

[Name] turned back to Michael, her voice firm but pleading. “Kaiser, please don’t make this worse. Just… stop.”

Michael raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk never faltering. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave. For now.”

Ruka’s hands balled into fists, his knuckles white as he glared at Mixhael. “This isn’t over,” he hissed, his voice low and threatening. Then, without another word, he grabbed [Name]’s hand.

“Ruka, wait—!” [Name]’s protest was cut short as he began pulling her toward the door.

“Let go of me!” she cried, struggling against his grip. Her free hand tugged at his arm, but Ruka was relentless, his grip firm as he marched out of the room with her in tow.

Behind them, Michael’s soft laughter echoed, further stoking the tension in the air. “Do come again, [Name],” he called out, his voice smooth and taunting. “The conversation was delightful.”

Alexis chuckled, adding to the mockery. “Indeed. What an entertaining visit.”

Ruka’s shoulders stiffened, his pace quickening as he led [Name] away.

The clubroom doors slammed shut behind them, leaving the tense silence to settle once more.

In the corridor outside, [Name]’s voice broke the silence. “Ruka, stop! You’re hurting me!”

He finally slowed his pace, his grip loosening as he turned to face her. His expression was still stormy, but there was a flicker of guilt in his crimson eyes. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, letting her hand go.

[Name] rubbed her wrist, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. “What was that about? Why did you have to act like that in front of them?”

“They’re dangerous, [Name],” Ruka said firmly, his tone bordering on desperation. “You don’t understand what they’re capable of.”

She frowned, crossing her arms. “Maybe I don’t, but that doesn’t give you the right to act like you can control who I talk to.”

Ruka ran a hand through his dark hair, his frustration evident. “I’m just trying to protect you.”

[Name] softened slightly at his words but remained firm. “I know you care, but yelling and dragging me out like that isn’t the way to do it.”

Ruka exhaled heavily, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I just… I can’t stand the thought of them getting close to you.”

She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her voice softer now. “I can take care of myself, Ruka. You have to trust me.”

He looked at her, his crimson eyes filled with a mixture of worry and regret. After a long moment, he nodded reluctantly. “Fine. But promise me you’ll be careful.”

[Name] offered him a small smile. “I promise.”

Though the tension between them had eased slightly, the memory of Michael’s taunting smirk lingered in Ruka’s mind. One thing was certain: he wouldn’t let his guard down. Not for a second.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The club room, now quiet after Ruka’s dramatic exit with [Name], felt heavy with lingering tension. Michael lounged in his chair, one hand casually resting on the armrest while the other swirled the remnants of his tea in his cup. The smirk that had never left his face broadened slightly as his mind wandered.

The scene replayed in his thoughts: Ruka's fury, [Name]'s pleas, her soft voice trembling as she tried to calm the storm. He felt a thrill at how easily he could provoke such chaos. It was exhilarating, knowing he had gotten under Ruka’s skin with nothing more than a few words and a look.

“Interesting,” Michael murmured to himself, the German accent in his voice smooth and laced with amusement.

His blue eyes narrowed slightly, his mind honing in on [Name]. She was unlike anyone he had encountered—a curious mix of innocence and resilience. The way she had pleaded, her cheeks flushed, her scent lingering in the air like the sweetest nectar… it was intoxicating.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the chair, letting the fantasy unfold in his mind. He imagined [Name] standing before him, her wide, eyes looking up at him with a mix of fear and intrigue. Her skin would be warm under his touch, and her pulse… oh, how he could already feel it thrumming beneath his lips.

The thought of sinking his fangs into her neck, tasting her, consuming her, sent a shiver down his spine. ‘Would she scream? Would she fight? Or would she surrender to me, trembling in my arms?’

Michael chuckled lowly, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. The mere idea of it was almost unbearable. “She’s going to be delicious,” he muttered, his voice thick with anticipation.

“Thinking about her, are we?”

The voice beside him snapped him out of his thoughts. Alexis Ness stood nearby, his magenta eyes gleaming with their own brand of obsession. He had been quiet up until now, observing Michael’s every move and word. But even he couldn’t deny it any longer—[Name] was captivating.

Michael turned his head slightly, one eyebrow raised. “And what if I am?” he asked, his tone teasing but guarded.

Alexis smirked, leaning against the table. “You’re not the only one, you know.” His voice was soft but carried an edge, as if challenging Michael’s unspoken claim. “She’s… enchanting, isn’t she? The way she looks, the way she speaks.” His gaze grew distant for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. “I bet her blood tastes as sweet as she looks.”

Michael’s smirk widened, but there was a flicker of irritation in his eyes. “Careful, Alexis. Are you forgetting your place?”

Alexis shrugged, unbothered by the warning. “I’m just saying what we’re both thinking. She’s special. And it’s only natural to want what’s special, isn’t it?”

The room seemed to grow heavier with the weight of their shared obsession. Michael sat up slightly, placing his teacup down with a deliberate clink. “She’s not like the others,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “There’s something… different about her.”

Alexis nodded, his smirk fading into something more serious. “She’s pure. Untouched. That’s what makes her irresistible.”

Michael leaned back again, crossing his arms as a dark chuckle escaped him. “And that’s what makes this so… entertaining. Did you see the way Ruka reacted? Just being near her sends him into a frenzy. Imagine what he’d do if I…” He trailed off, his blue eyes glittering with malice.

Alexis laughed softly, though there was a darker undertone to it. “You’re playing with fire, Kaiser. Not that I’m complaining. It’ll be fun to watch.”

“Oh, it’ll be more than fun,” Michael said, his voice dripping with confidence. “It’ll be art.”

Unbeknownst to Alexis, Michael’s thoughts were already spiraling further. He could see it so clearly: [Name] in his arms, her soft cries as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear before finally indulging in the ultimate pleasure. The taste of her blood, the way her body would go limp against him—it was a fantasy he intended to make reality.

But as Michael’s mind raced, he failed to notice the way Alexis’s gaze lingered on him.

‘You think you’re the only one who can have her,’ Alexis thought to himself, his smirk returning faintly. But she’ll be mine, too. ‘You just wait, Kaiser. I’ll prove that I’m the one who deserves her.’

The room, now quiet save for the crackle of the fireplace, seemed to hum with the dark energy of their shared desires. [Name] had unwittingly become the object of their twisted fantasies, their obsession threatening to spiral out of control.

As Michael and Alexis sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, one thing became clear: neither would back down. And in the end, [Name] would belong to one of them—or perhaps, to both.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The dorm room was a cozy haven bathed in the soft glow of a bedside lamp. The faint hum of the heater filled the air, warding off the chill of the night. On one side of the room, [Name] Sanzuku sat cross-legged on her bed, brushing her hair with slow, rhythmic strokes. Her glasses rested neatly folded on her nightstand, a sign she was winding down for the evening. Her eyes seemed distant, lost in her thoughts as she hummed softly to herself.

On the other side of the room, Hitomi stood in front of her mirror, meticulously applying a cooling face mask. The white cream contrasted starkly against her warm skin, and she squinted slightly as she smoothed it out, making sure there wasn’t a single uneven patch. “You know, [Name], you’re like one of those classic heroines from a romance novel,” she teased, glancing over her shoulder. “The way you brush your hair like that, it’s almost poetic.”

[Name] chuckled softly, setting her brush down. “You think so? I’m just trying to keep it from getting tangled.” She tucked a loose strand behind her ear and reached for her phone, which buzzed with a notification.

Curious, she unlocked it and smiled when she saw the name: Akira. Her thumbs moved quickly as she read his message.

Akira: Hey hey! How’s dorm life treating you, superstar? You adjusting okay?

[Name] grinned at the nickname and began typing her response.

[Name]: It’s going pretty well! Hitomi’s fun to have around, and the campus is beautiful. What about you? Still making everyone laugh over there?

Hitomi noticed the soft smile on her roommate’s face and smirked knowingly. “Who’s that? Someone special?”

[Name]’s cheeks turned pink, and she waved her hand dismissively. “No, no! It’s just Akira. He’s a friend.”

Hitomi arched an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. A ‘friend.’ Sure.” She turned back to the mirror, but her teasing grin lingered.

Another buzz came through, and [Name] eagerly opened it.

Akira: Obviously! I’m the life of the party, remember? But, let’s be real, the day isn’t complete until I hear from you. How’s my favorite twin-tailed basketball queen?

[Name] giggled, her blush deepening. She typed back quickly.

[Name]: Flattery will get you everywhere, Akira. I’m doing great, just unwinding. You?

Akira: Me? Just counting down the days until we can hang out again. College is cool and all, but it’s missing something—you.

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. Akira had always been energetic and carefree, his messages filled with a contagious warmth that made her smile. She loved how he never failed to brighten her day, even from miles away.

[Name]: You’re such a charmer. But you know what? I miss hanging out with you too. Everything feels so… big here. It’s nice, but it’s also overwhelming sometimes.

Akira’s response came almost immediately.

Akira: Hey, don’t let it get to you. You’re amazing, [Name]. Everyone who meets you knows it. They’re probably just too intimidated by how cool you are. Give it time, and you’ll have everyone wrapped around your finger, just like me.

[Name] laughed softly, feeling a little more at ease.

Hitomi, now lying on her bed with her face mask drying, peeked over. “You’ve been smiling at your phone for the past ten minutes. Spill. What’s he saying?”

[Name] hesitated before showing her the screen. “It’s just Akira being Akira. He’s so… I don’t know. He’s always so positive and fun to talk to.”

Hitomi scanned the messages and raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sounds like someone’s got a little crush.”

[Name] shook her head vehemently, though her cheeks betrayed her. “It’s not like that! He’s just… easy to talk to, you know?”

Hitomi smirked. “Sure, if you say so. But let me just say, guys like that don’t come around every day. Don’t let this one slip away.”

[Name] rolled her eyes but couldn’t wipe the smile from her face.

Another buzz pulled her attention back to her phone.

Akira: Alright, superstar, get some rest. Dream big, okay? And don’t forget—if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m just a text away.

[Name]: Thanks, Akira. You’re the best. Goodnight!

Setting her phone down, [Name] leaned back against her pillows, her heart feeling lighter than it had all day. Hitomi’s soft teasing faded into the background as she replayed Akira’s words in her mind.

As the night deepened and the dorm room grew quieter, [Name] found herself smiling as she drifted off to sleep, the thought of Akira’s bright energy and kind words lingering in her dreams.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The crisp autumn air bit at Ruka’s skin as he stood under the dim glow of a lamppost. His black jacket was zipped up to his chin, warding off the chill of the late night. The world around him was silent, save for the occasional rustle of fallen leaves skittering across the pavement. His breath misted in the cold, visible in the stillness of the dark. He glanced at his watch, impatience creeping into his features.

“It’s unlike him to keep me waiting,” Ruka muttered under his breath, his crimson eyes scanning the surrounding shadows.

A minute passed, and then he felt it—a heavy presence emerging from the darkness. From the shadows of a nearby alley, Barou Shoei stepped into the faint light, his towering frame exuding an air of menace. His intense crimson gaze locked onto Ruka, and the faint glint of his sharp fangs became visible as he approached. The moonlight caught the red streak in Barou’s black hair, adding to his predatory aura.

Barou’s expression was cold and unamused, his eyes narrowing as he stopped a few paces away from Ruka. “You’re late,” Barou grunted, though his tone carried more disdain than genuine frustration.

Ruka sighed, his breath visible in the cold air. “Spare me the theatrics, Barou. You know why I’m here.” He crossed his arms, his posture tense but unwavering.

Barou’s lip curled into a faint sneer. “The deal, right? Making sure your precious little cousin doesn’t fall prey to the others.” He stepped closer, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel. “And you expect me to do this out of the kindness of my heart?”

Ruka’s crimson eyes hardened. “I’m not stupid. I know you want something in return. So, name your price.”

Barou chuckled darkly, the sound low and guttural. “You already know what I want.” His gaze flicked pointedly to Ruka’s neck. “Your blood.”

The demand hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Ruka clenched his fists at his sides, his jaw tightening. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but deep down, he knew Barou wouldn’t agree to anything without taking what he wanted.

“Fine,” Ruka said through gritted teeth. His voice was steady, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. “If it ensures [Name]’s safety, you can have it.”

Barou’s sneer widened into a sinister grin. “Good. At least you’re not as pathetic as the others who’ve begged me for favors.” He stepped closer, towering over Ruka like a predator closing in on its prey.

Ruka unzipped his jacket slowly, exposing the pale skin of his neck. The cold air stung, but it was nothing compared to the anticipation of what was to come. He tilted his head slightly to the side, his crimson eyes meeting Barou’s.

“Just get it over with,” Ruka muttered.

Barou didn’t need further invitation. In a flash, he closed the gap between them, his hands gripping Ruka’s shoulders with iron strength. Without hesitation, he sank his fangs into Ruka’s neck.

The pain was immediate and sharp, like twin blades piercing his skin. Ruka’s breath hitched, and his body tensed as Barou began to drink. The sensation was unlike anything he’d felt before—a mix of searing pain and an unsettling pull as his blood was drained in powerful gulps.

Barou’s grip tightened, his hunger evident as he drank deeply. Each pull felt like fire coursing through Ruka’s veins, leaving him weaker with every passing second. Ruka clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to stay upright. A groan of pain escaped his lips, but he refused to let it turn into a cry.

All for her, he reminded himself. All for [Name].

Barou finally pulled back, his lips stained with crimson. He licked the remaining blood from his fangs, his expression one of satisfaction. “You’re strong, I’ll give you that. Most wouldn’t last as long as you did.”

Ruka staggered slightly but caught himself before his knees could give out. His face was pale, and a cold sweat clung to his skin. He zipped his jacket back up, hiding the fresh wound.

“Are we done here?” Ruka asked, his voice hoarse but steady.

Barou smirked. “For now. A deal’s a deal. I’ll keep an eye on her. But don’t think this means I’m at your beck and call.” He stepped back into the shadows, his voice fading as he disappeared. “Try not to die before our next meeting, Sanzuku.”

Ruka watched him go, his body trembling slightly from blood loss. He turned and began the slow walk back to his dorm, each step feeling heavier than the last.

When he finally reached his room, he shrugged off his jacket and stepped into the bathroom. The fluorescent light buzzed faintly as he turned it on, revealing his pale reflection in the mirror. His shirt was stained with blood near the collar, and the bite marks on his neck were deep and angry. With a glare he took off his clothes and dumped them in the laundry basket. 

Without hesitation, Ruka turned on the shower, stepping under the icy spray. The cold water hit his skin like needles, but it helped to numb the ache in his neck. He leaned against the tiled wall, letting the water wash away the blood and the tension of the night.

After bandaging the wound with practiced precision, he collapsed onto his bed. His body ached, but his mind refused to rest.

The thought of her surrounded by vampires like Sae, Kaiser, and Ness gnawed at him. Their growing fondness for her wasn’t just troubling—it was dangerous. He clenched his fists, his crimson eyes staring at the ceiling.

“I won’t let them have her,” he muttered to himself. “No matter what it takes.”

With that vow lingering in his mind, Ruka finally drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by the faces of those who threatened his cousin’s safety and the lengths he would go to protect her.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The morning sun poured through the tall windows of the campus hallway, casting a warm glow on the bustling students. [Name] and Hitomi walked side by side, chatting about their plans for the day. The faint scent of coffee and autumn leaves wafted through the air, blending with the hum of conversations around them.

“Don’t forget we’re meeting for lunch later,” Hitomi reminded, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

[Name] smiled, brushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “Of course. Can’t wait to hear more about your skincare adventures.”

Hitomi laughed, playfully nudging her. “Hey, a girl’s gotta glow, right?”

As they approached a junction in the hallway, the girls parted ways, waving goodbye to one another. [Name] turned down a less crowded corridor, her thoughts already on her upcoming class. The sound of her shoes echoed softly against the polished floors.

But her peace didn’t last long. Distracted by her phone, she wasn’t paying attention to where she was going and collided with someone head-on. The impact jolted her, and her books slipped from her grasp, scattering across the floor.

“Ugh, not again!” [Name] muttered under her breath, quickly bending down to gather her things. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking—”

Before she could finish her apology, a sharp, irritated voice cut her off. “Watch where you’re going, idiot!”

[Name]’s head snapped up, her eyes locking onto an unfamiliar face. The boy she had bumped into stood tall, his muscular frame looming over her. His pale blonde hair was flat and slightly messy, and his amber eyes narrowed with annoyance. Dark, thick lashes framed his intense gaze, and his shark-like teeth were bared in a scowl.

She blinked, momentarily taken aback by his intimidating presence. “I said I’m sorry,” she said, her tone firmer this time as she straightened up.

“Sorry doesn’t fix my shirt,” he shot back, brushing off an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. “Try paying attention next time.”

[Name] felt her annoyance bubbling to the surface. She had dealt with rude people before, but his attitude grated on her nerves. “Maybe if you weren’t stomping around like a bull, this wouldn’t have happened,” she snapped, crossing her arms.

The boy raised an eyebrow, his irritation briefly giving way to amusement. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” she replied, her voice steady as she picked up the last of her books. Without giving him a chance to respond, she turned on her heel and walked away, her long twin-tails swaying with each step.

The boy—Jingo Raichi—watched her retreating figure with a bemused smirk. His initial annoyance faded, replaced by a spark of interest. She wasn’t like the other students who cowered under his sharp tone or his intimidating presence. Instead, she had snapped right back at him, her fiery attitude catching him off guard.

“Spunky little thing,” he muttered to himself, his amber eyes following her until she disappeared into a classroom down the hall.

For a moment, he stood there, replaying the encounter in his mind. Her mismatched eyes, her sharp tongue, and the way she held her ground—it all intrigued him in a way he hadn’t expected.

Raichi crossed his arms, his smirk widening as a thought crossed his mind. “This might be fun,” he said under his breath, already planning how he could cross paths with her again.

As the hallway returned to its usual rhythm, Raichi finally turned and made his way to his own class, though his thoughts remained on the girl who had dared to stand up to him.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The atmosphere in the mathematics classroom was calm but charged with the usual morning energy. The windows let in soft rays of sunlight that illuminated the rows of desks and chairs, and the faint sound of shuffling papers filled the room. [Name] took her seat in the middle row, setting her notebook on the desk in front of her. The cool metal of her pen felt comforting in her hand as she prepared for the lesson.

She exhaled softly, grateful to have arrived on time despite her earlier hallway mishap. As she adjusted her red-rimmed glasses, she noticed movement beside her.

A young man with white hair and striking brown eyes took the seat to her left, offering her a warm, welcoming smile. His features were strikingly handsome, accentuated by the small mole under his left eye. His overall demeanor was calm and friendly, and he carried himself with a natural charm that instantly drew attention.

“Good morning,” he said in a kind tone. “I’m Ryosuke Kira. Looks like we’re seatmates today.”

[Name] blinked, momentarily stunned by his appearance. She quickly snapped herself out of it and returned his smile. “Good morning. I’m [Name] Sanzuku. Nice to meet you.”

Kira nodded, his smile deepening. “Nice to meet you too, [Name]. Let’s do our best today.”

Just as she was about to reply, [Name] felt another presence to her right. She turned her head to see a taller boy with white hair with dark roots tied into a bun and a sharp, wiry frame. His relaxed expression and faint, an approachable air despite his somewhat intimidating stature.

“Yo,” he greeted casually, his voice carrying an easygoing tone. “I’m Gin Gagamaru. Mind if I sit here?”

[Name] gave a small nod, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sudden attention. “Not at all.”

As Gin settled into his seat, she found herself sandwiched between the two boys. Kira’s friendly demeanor on her left and Gin’s laid-back attitude on her right created an odd yet strangely comfortable balance.

However, as she glanced around the classroom, something struck her as odd. There were noticeably more boys than girls present. In front of her, she spotted a boy with swift black bangs that partially obscured his eyes, his posture composed as he set up his materials. Behind her, another student with silver locks of hair leaned lazily against his chair, his sharp gaze surveying the room.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she counted the ratio of male to female students. There’s definitely more guys than girls here... Is this normal? she thought to herself.

Despite her observation, she noted a handful of girls scattered across the room, each quietly preparing for the lesson. They seemed outnumbered, but at least she wasn’t completely alone in that regard.

Despite her efforts to concentrate, she couldn’t shake the strange sensation of being watched.

To her left, Kira glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his smile unwavering as he seemed genuinely interested in her presence. On her right, Gin leaned slightly forward, his deep eyes scanning her face curiously before returning to his desk.

‘Why do I feel like I’m being surrounded?’ [Name] thought, trying to suppress the growing unease in her chest. Nonetheless, she resolved to push it aside and focus on the lesson ahead.

The classroom door swung open with flair, and in walked a man who immediately commanded everyone’s attention. Lavinho, the mathematics professor, strode in with an energy that seemed to radiate through the room. His tan skin glistened faintly under the fluorescent lights, and his mullet—stylized with bold, checkered side cuts—bounced slightly with every step he took. His sleeveless attire revealed his tattooed arms, which bore intricate patterns that added to his larger-than-life presence. He wore a necklace that jingled softly as he moved, and though circular sunglasses perched on his nose, he casually removed them as he reached the front of the room, revealing sharp, expressive eyes that seemed to twinkle with mischief.

“Bom dia, meus alunos!” Lavinho greeted in a booming, cheerful tone, his Brazilian accent flavoring every word. “Good morning, my students! I hope you’re ready for a day of learning... and maybe a little fun, huh?”

The class murmured in response, some students smiling while others blinked at his eccentricity. Lavinho planted his hands on the edge of his desk, leaning forward slightly with a wide grin.

“Let me introduce myself,” he said, his voice full of dramatic flair. “I am Lavinho, the best mathematics professor you will ever meet. Why? Because I don’t just teach numbers, meus amigos. I teach you how to feel the numbers. To see the beauty, the rhythm, the passion in mathematics!”

[Name]’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She hadn’t expected her math professor to be so... theatrical. To her left, Kira smirked in mild amusement, while Gin on her right leaned back slightly, clearly intrigued.

Lavinho straightened up, spreading his arms wide as if addressing a stadium rather than a classroom. “Now, before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s start with something simple—attendance! I need to know who’s here so I can put names to all these beautiful faces.”

He pulled out a clipboard from his desk, flipping through the pages with exaggerated enthusiasm. “When I call your name, just give me a little ‘Here!’ or ‘Present!’ Or, if you’re feeling bold, tell me your favorite number and why! Let’s spice it up!”

The room chuckled lightly at his suggestion, and one by one, students began responding as he read out the names.

“Saki Moragami,” Lavinho called, glancing toward the side of the room.

“Here,” a girl named Saki replied politely, offering a small wave.

“Kairu Samaradara?”

“Present,” the boy with the white locks said in his laid-back tone, raising a hand lazily.

As the roll call continued, [Name] felt herself relaxing slightly. Lavinho’s energy, while overwhelming at first, was oddly infectious. He made mathematics feel less intimidating, even if she wasn’t sure how his dramatic teaching style would translate into actual learning.

Finally, her name came up. “[Name] Sanzuku?”

“Here,” she replied, her voice clear but soft.

Lavinho’s head snapped toward her, his grin widening. “Ah, [Name]! A lovely name! I have a feeling you’re going to be one of my stars this semester. Am I right, or am I right?”

Caught off guard, [Name] felt her cheeks warm as the class chuckled lightly. “Um... I’ll try my best, Professor.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lavinho declared, clapping his hands together. “Now, let’s dive in. Today, we’re going to explore the elegance of quadratic equations. But don’t worry—I promise, by the end of this class, you’ll be dreaming about parabolas!”

Despite the skepticism that flickered across some students’ faces, Lavinho’s enthusiasm was undeniable. As he began the lesson, he paced the room energetically, weaving in metaphors and anecdotes that somehow connected math to football, life, and even love.

[Name] found herself unexpectedly engaged, her pen moving quickly to keep up with the professor’s rapid explanations. Beside her, both Kira and Gin seemed equally focused, though Kira occasionally glanced her way with a small, knowing smile.

The day was off to an unusual start, but [Name] couldn’t help but think that, with a professor like Lavinho, it would never be boring.

The lecture continued with Lavinho commanding the room like a maestro orchestrating a grand performance. He moved with animated gestures, pointing at equations on the board with the flourish of a conductor's baton. Each line of numbers he wrote seemed to come alive as he spoke.

“Now, who can tell me,” Lavinho said, his voice rising dramatically, “what happens when we solve this quadratic equation?” He underlined  on the whiteboard with a grand sweep of his marker.

A few students glanced nervously at one another, unsure whether to speak up. [Name] hesitated before raising her hand tentatively.

“Ah! [Name]! Minha estrela!” Lavinho exclaimed, pointing at her with a proud smile. “Tell us what you see, querida.”

[Name] cleared her throat, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on her. “Um... You can factor it into , and then solve for, so.”

Lavinho clapped his hands together with a booming laugh. “Perfecto! Brilliant work! And what does this mean, class? It means [Name] has just uncovered the secret of a repeated root!” He turned back to the board, drawing an exaggerated parabola that just touched the -axis at . “See? The curve only kisses the axis here. A moment of pure romance in mathematics!”

The class chuckled, and [Name] felt a mix of pride and secondhand embarrassment.

Lavinho continued, pacing as he scribbled down more problems. “Math, meus amigos, is not just numbers! It is a story. A tale of rise and fall. Of symmetry, balance, and beauty! Every equation is a journey!”

Gin leaned over slightly toward [Name], his black eyes glinting with humor. “This guy could make a soap opera out of a graph.”

[Name] suppressed a laugh, whispering back, “I think that’s exactly what he’s doing.”

On her other side, Kira appeared genuinely engrossed in the lecture, his pen moving fluidly across his notebook as he jotted down notes. Occasionally, he glanced at [Name], his warm brown eyes soft with quiet interest.

Meanwhile, Lavinho threw himself fully into teaching, occasionally tossing out challenges to the class. “Who wants to come up and solve this next one? Hmm?”

A few students ducked their heads, but one brave soul—a tall guy with teal bangs—rose from his seat and strode to the board confidently. Lavinho clapped him on the back and handed him the marker.

[Name] watched the student tackle the equation, admiring his ease with the material. She couldn’t help but notice how many guys in the room exude this strange combination of confidence and charm. It was... distracting.

As the class progressed, the rhythm of Lavinho’s teaching kept everyone engaged, even those who had initially seemed uninterested. By the time the bell rang to signal the end of the period, most of the students were buzzing with energy.

“Great work today, everyone!” Lavinho called out, holding his arms wide as if he were embracing the entire class. “Remember, mathematics is not a subject. It’s a lifestyle! Go live it!”

[Name] packed her things, her mind still processing the whirlwind of equations, metaphors, and theatrics. As she stood to leave, Kira turned to her with a polite smile.

“Nice job earlier,” he said. “That was a pretty tough problem to start with.”

“Oh, thanks,” [Name] replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You seemed pretty focused on yourself.”

“Gotta keep up,” Kira said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Besides, Lavinho makes it hard to get bored.”

She then chuckled at the mere thought. “Hard to believe math could be entertaining, but I’ll give him credit.”

The three walked out of the room together, and for the first time, [Name] felt a little more at ease in this new environment—though the lingering feeling of being surrounded by enigmatic figures still kept her on edge.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] adjusted her bag and settled into her seat in the first middle row, feeling a bit relieved that she made it on time without any incidents. As she pulled out her notebook and prepared for what promised to be a rigorous session in Economical Biology, the sound of a chair scraping behind her caught her attention.

Then, a rich, deep voice, smooth and dripping with charisma, spoke from directly behind her.

“Osha~ What a stylish choice of a seat.”

She turned around, startled, only to be greeted by a strikingly tall figure. He had long, flowing blackish-brown hair cascading to his waist, with perfectly polished black nails and a natural elegance that radiated from every fiber of his being. His black eyes seemed to gleam with an otherworldly charm, and his presence was both magnetic and theatrical.

“Oh! Uh, thank you?” [Name] stammered, caught off guard by his almost ethereal appearance.

He leaned slightly closer, examining her hair with great interest. “My, my, such stylish strands! What treatment do you use, darling? I simply must know!”

[Name] blinked, unsure how to respond. “Uh, just... regular shampoo and conditioner, I guess?”

Aryu placed a hand dramatically over his heart, as though her words had struck a chord. “Regular? Impossible! That shine, that bounce—it is far too elegant to be mundane. Truly, your hair is the epitome of what I call stylishness!”

She couldn’t help but chuckle, amused by his flamboyant demeanor. “Well, thank you. Your hair’s not too bad either. I mean, it’s pretty impressive, honestly.”

Aryu straightened, his long limbs and elegant posture making him seem even taller. “Impressive, she says!” He flipped a strand of his hair over his shoulder with a flourish. “Why, gorgeousness such as this takes dedication, [Name]-san. May I sit next to you? A seat beside someone with such a sense of style would be fitting.”

“Sure,” [Name] replied, gesturing to the open seat beside her. “Go ahead.”

Aryu sat down with a graceful motion, folding his long legs carefully under the desk. As he did, he struck a pose, leaning slightly to one side and resting his chin on his hand. “Such stylish kindness. Truly, you are a gem in this drab world of science.”

‘Is he Jojo posing?’ [Name] suppressed a grin. “You’re really into this whole stylish thing, aren’t you?”

He sighed dramatically, waving his hand as if to dismiss the question. “Into it? No, no, no, my dear. I embody it.” His tone turned slightly wistful. “Though, I do admit, my name... Aryu Jyubie. It is such a burden. So old-fashioned. So... unstylish.”

She tilted her head, genuinely confused. “I don’t think it’s a bad name. It’s unique.”

Aryu perked up immediately, his dark eyes lighting with delight. “You think so? Ah, what a stylish compliment! Perhaps I can overcome this complex with your encouragement, [Name]-san. You are a beacon of light, truly.”

As [Name] settled into her seat, a hush fell over the room as the doors swung open. Striding in was the professor, her commanding presence turning all heads in her direction.

Ms. Luiza Bogdanova was tall and elegant, with jet-black hair cascading down her back, her bangs casting a shadow over her intense maroon eyes. The sharp contrast of her pale ivory skin and the dark maroon lipstick she wore gave her an almost ethereal appearance. She was dressed in a tailored dark blouse and a sleek pencil skirt, her demeanor exuding authority. A small mole beneath her right eye added a touch of intrigue to her otherwise intimidating look.

“Good morning, class,” she said, her Russian accent heavy, each word deliberate. “I am Ms. Bogdanova, and I vill be your Economical Biology instructor. Before ve begin, I must make it clear—I expect discipline and attentiveness in my class.” Her tone was not harsh but carried a weight that demanded respect.

Her eyes swept across the room, lingering briefly on each student. Though her expression was neutral, the intensity of her gaze made several students sit up straighter.

“I vwill now take attendance. Answer promptly,” she stated, her voice cutting through the room like a blade.

As she read through the list of names, her accent became more pronounced, struggling with certain syllables but maintaining her composure. When she finished the roll call, she paused, scanning the room.

“One name is missing,” she said, her tone sharp yet faintly puzzled. “Isagi Yoichi? He is not here.”

At that moment, the doors creaked open, and a young man hurried inside, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Bogdanova!” he exclaimed, bowing apologetically. “I got lost on my way here. It won’t happen again.”

The class erupted into quiet snickers and whispers, some students exchanging amused glances. Ms. Bogdanova’s maroon eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded him, her expression unreadable.

“Excuses are for those who lack preparation, Mr. Isagi,” she said, her accent emphasizing every word. “But I vwill not punish you on your first day. Sit in the nearest seat—immediately.”

Yoichi nodded quickly, his face turning an even deeper shade of red as he scanned for an open seat. The closest one was next to [Name], who offered him a kind smile as he slid into the chair, clearly flustered.

As he sat down, Aryu leaned slightly toward [Name] and murmured, “Lateness, [Name]-san... so unstylish.”

[Name] stifled a giggle and turned her attention to Yoichi, who was trying to avoid the judgmental stares of his classmates. She leaned closer, her voice gentle. “Don’t let it get to you. Everyone gets lost or late on their first day. It’s no big deal.”

Yoichi glanced at her, surprised by her kind tone. “Thanks,” he whispered, offering a shy smile. “I’ll do better next time.”

Ms. Bogdanova tapped a long finger against the desk, drawing their attention back to her. “If ve are done vith distractions, ve shall begin,” she announced, her voice slicing through the lingering murmurs. “This is Economical Biology, one of the most difficult courses you vill take. But do not be afraid. Fear only makes you vweak.”

The room fell silent as she began the lesson, her demanding aura permeating the atmosphere. Despite her stern exterior, [Name] couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity about the professor. There was something about Ms. Bogdanova’s presence—though intimidating, it hinted at a depth she couldn’t yet place.

Beside her, Yoichi seemed to relax slightly, stealing occasional glances at [Name], as if silently thanking her for her earlier words. On her other side, Aryu continued to sit elegantly, his long fingers drumming against the desk, already planning his next “stylish” comment for the professor’s intense teaching style.

As Ms. Bogdanova began the lesson, her authoritative voice filled the room, weaving complex definitions and intricate concepts into the air. Words like bio socioeconomic theory and adaptive resource cycles rolled off her tongue, her heavy accent making some of the terms sound even more daunting. She wrote dense formulas and diagrams on the board, her movements sharp and precise.

[Name] dutifully jotted down notes in her notebook, her handwriting neat and efficient. Around her, the sound of pens scratching paper filled the air. She could feel the intensity of Ms. Bogdanova’s presence pressing down on the class like an unspoken challenge.

To her left, however, Yoichi was struggling. His brow furrowed in concentration, and he kept glancing between the board and his notebook, his pen hovering uncertainty over the paper. He scribbled something down, paused, and then scratched it out, frustration etched on his face.

[Name] noticed his unease out of the corner of her eye. She hesitated for a moment, glancing toward the front of the room to ensure Ms. Bogdanova wasn’t looking their way. Then, she leaned slightly toward Yoichi, keeping her voice low.

“Need a hand?” she whispered softly, her tone kind.

Yoichi blinked, startled by her offer. “Uh, yeah,” he admitted, his voice equally quiet. “I’m having trouble figuring out what she means by this whole ‘resource cycles’ thing.” He gestured toward a particularly confusing diagram in his notebook.

[Name] smiled reassuringly and pointed to her own notes. “Here, it’s about how biological systems distribute resources based on environmental and social factors. See this part?” She tapped the section in her notebook that simplified the explanation. “It’s like a feedback loop—organisms adapt based on what’s available and how it affects their survival.”

Yoichi’s eyes lit up in recognition as he quickly copied down her explanation. “Oh, that makes so much more sense,” he whispered, his frustration melting into gratitude. “Thanks, [Name]. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime,” she replied, a warm smile on her face. “Let me know if you get stuck again.”

As the lecture continued, [Name] subtly kept an eye on Yoichi, offering occasional clarifications when she saw him hesitate. Each time, he nodded appreciatively, clearly grateful for her quiet support.

Meanwhile, Aryu, sitting to her right, took notice of their interaction and leaned over slightly, his deep voice low and amused. “Helping the less stylish, [Name]-san? Truly, you are too kind.”

She shot him a playful look but didn’t reply, turning her attention back to her notes. Yoichi, on the other hand, looked both confused and mildly embarrassed at Aryu’s comment.

The lesson pressed on, and though the material remained challenging, Yoichi seemed more confident with [Name]’s help. When the class finally ended, he packed up his notebook and turned to her, a shy smile on his face.

“Thanks again,” he said earnestly. “I don’t think I would’ve made it through that without you.”

“It’s no big deal,” [Name] replied cheerfully. “You’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

As they filed out of the classroom, Yoichi couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, the stress of the lesson tempered by [Name]’s kindness. He decided then that he’d have to repay her somehow—and maybe even get to know her better.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Ruka stood by the grand window of the club room, the evening's amber glow casting long shadows across the walls. His foot tapped impatiently against the polished floor as he checked his watch for the third time in five minutes. His usually composed expression was taut with irritation, his eyes flicking toward the sky as if it held the answer to his unrest.

Behind him, the air buzzed with tension and the contrasting personalities of his companions. Sae Itoshi sat in an armchair near the fireplace, a leather-bound book in his hands. His sharp features were calm, unreadable, as his piercing gaze scanned the pages. He radiated an air of indifference, purposefully detached from the antics around him.

On the other side of the room, Michael Kaiser lounged with an elegance only he could pull off, a wine glass in hand. He swirled the dark red liquid lazily before taking a sip, his sharp vampire fangs glinting faintly in the light. “Ah, exquisite,” he mused, his voice laced with arrogance. “A symphony of flavors on my tongue.” He smirked and cast a sidelong glance at Ruka. “Speaking of taste, Ruka, you seem particularly...tense today. Could it be because of a certain someone?”

Ruka didn’t bite. He didn’t even turn to face him, his jaw tightening as he continued to stare out the window. Michael’s smirk deepened.

Seated on the couch, Don Lorenzo was the complete opposite of the refined Michael. He lounged with his long limbs sprawled out, a bucket of caramel popcorn in his lap. Each bite was obnoxiously loud, the crunch echoing in the otherwise spacious room. Lorenzo’s purple-tipped hair fell messily over his face, but his sharp, gold teeth gleamed with every exaggerated chew. “Okay,” he said around a mouthful of popcorn, “what’s got you so worked up, Rukie? You're pacing like that’s making me dizzy, okay.”

Ruka didn’t respond, but his fingers curled tighter against the windowsill. Lorenzo glanced at Michael, who offered a knowing shrug, before leaning forward with a wicked grin commenting a certain relative to the Italian. This seemed to pick his interest at the thought and found a way to get under Ruka's skin.

“Hey,” Lorenzo said, drawing out the word. “You have someone that you hide from us, right? Let me guess, a girl!?” He popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth, the crunch deliberate and drawn out. “Bet she tastes amazing, huh? Sweet, maybe? Or is she spicy? Oh, I bet she’s got a tangy kick to her. What do you think, okay?”

The words hit Ruka like a hammer, and he spun around, his expression fierce. “Shut your mouth, Lorenzo!” His voice thundered through the room, echoing off the walls. His pale cheeks flushed with anger, and his piercing glare was locked onto Lorenzo.

Lorenzo, unfazed, threw his head back and laughed, the sound wild and grating. “Oh, come on, Rukie! Don’t tell me you’re this sensitive, okay. You’re no fun!” He leaned back on the couch, still laughing like a hyena, clearly enjoying the way he’d gotten under Ruka’s skin.

Michael chuckled quietly, his smirk growing even more devious. “Touchy, aren’t we?” he drawled, taking another slow sip from his glass. “I wonder if she’s as spirited as you are, Ruka. I imagine she’d be quiet... entertaining.”

Ruka took a sharp step forward, his fists clenched, but stopped himself. He exhaled deeply, reigning in his temper. “Say another word about her, and I’ll—”

“Relax, Ruka,” Michael interrupted smoothly, raising his glass as if in a toast. “We’re just curious, that’s all. No need to get so defensive.”

Meanwhile, Sae remained silent, his eyes never leaving the book in his hands. But his mind wasn’t on the words he was reading. ‘No,’ his thoughts were elsewhere—on [Name]. The mention of her name had stirred something deep within him, an unshakable allure. Her scent, faint yet intoxicating, lingered in his memory, consuming his thoughts. He imagined her soft neck, the pulse beneath her skin, the taste of her blood on his lips. His grip on the book tightened slightly, though his face betrayed nothing.

Ruka noticed Sae’s uncharacteristic stillness and narrowed his eyes. “Sae,” he barked, his tone sharp. “You’ve got something to say?”

Sae finally looked up, his calm gaze meeting Ruka’s. “No,” he said simply, his voice smooth and detached. “Just reading.” He returned to his book, though his mind remained far from the pages.

Ruka scowled but didn’t press further. He turned back to the window, his tension palpable as his thoughts swirled. Around him, Micahel smirked, Lorenzo laughed, and Sae schemed silently. The atmosphere was a dangerous mix of mockery, obsession, and restraint.

For [Name]’s sake, Ruka resolved to remain vigilant. They were circling her like wolves, and he knew the storm was only beginning.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] entered the psychology classroom, the hum of conversation filling the space as students settled into their seats. Scanning the room, she noticed most of the seats were already taken. With little choice, she hurried toward an open spot in the middle row, sliding into the chair next to a towering, broad-shouldered figure who seemed to shrink in on himself despite his size.

The boy turned his head toward her cautiously, his round green eyes wide with surprise. His nervous posture and the slight flush creeping up his neck gave away his shyness. She offered him a friendly smile and said, “Hi, I’m [Name]. Mind if I sit here?”

He froze for a moment before stammering, “N-No, not at all! I-I mean, yes, please sit! I-I’m Tokimitsu Aoishi!” His voice cracked slightly, and he immediately looked down, his large hands fidgeting with the edges of his notebook.

[Name] chuckled lightly at his nervousness. “Nice to meet you, Tokimitsu. You look pretty strong! Are you on a sports team or something?”

Tokimitsu’s face turned bright red at her compliment, and he mumbled, “N-No, I’m not on any team… but I-I work out sometimes.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly unused to receiving attention, especially from someone like her.

On her left side, [Name] noticed another boy sitting quietly, his head resting against his hand. He had a tired, almost haunted look, with dark bags under his eyes that stood out against his pale skin. His shoulder-length, blackish-green hair framed his face, and the freckles dotting his cheeks gave him a touch of charm despite his worn appearance.

He glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable, before murmuring, “Itsuki Wakatsuki... That’s my name.” His voice was so low that [Name] had to lean in slightly to catch his words.

“Nice to meet you too, Itsuki,” she replied with a warm smile. “You seem a little tired—are you okay?”

Wakatsuki blinked, startled by her genuine concern. He nodded faintly but avoided her gaze. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep much last night.”

[Name] noticed the faint hint of effort he put into the conversation and appreciated it, deciding not to press further. “Well, I hope this class doesn’t put you to sleep,” she teased lightly, trying to put him at ease.

Wakatsuki gave a small, almost shy smile, his eyes softening ever so slightly. “I’ll… try to stay awake.”

As [Name] struck up lighthearted conversation with Tokimitsu and Wakatsuki, she couldn’t help but glance around the room, taking note of her other classmates. Psychology wasn’t a small class, but she realized with a twinge of unease that there were far more guys than girls—only about four or five other girls dotted the room.

Her gaze landed on someone particularly striking. Leaning back in his chair as if the world revolved around him was a tall, tanned young man with spiky blond hair that faded into pink at the tips. Two strands framed his face, emphasizing his sharp, angular features. What stood out most were his piercing pink irises, the slit pupils giving him a cat-like intensity. He had a devil-may-care attitude, resting with one arm lazily draped over the back of his chair, a grin stretching across his face like he knew a secret no one else did.

[Name] found herself staring a little too long, and when their eyes met, he smirked knowingly. Embarrassed, she quickly gave him a polite, nervous smile before turning her attention elsewhere.

This time, her eyes fell on another boy—tall, slim, and refined in appearance. His orange eyes gleamed behind round spectacles, and his neatly stylized brown hair gave him a sophisticated charm. [Name] thought he bore a passing resemblance to Harry Potter, albeit a much more handsome version. Something about his calm, intellectual demeanor intrigued her, and she wondered what he was like.

Further into the room, she spotted a familiar face—Reo Mikage, already seated and scanning through a notebook. He looked perfectly composed, as always, and she noticed a few others exchanging whispers about him, likely impressed by his wealthy, polished image.

Several other unfamiliar faces caught her attention too, but before she could take in more details, the sound of heavy footsteps snapped her focus forward.

A tall, commanding figure strode into the classroom, instantly demanding attention. The man had a striking presence, his blond hair styled with short sides and longer bangs swept to the left, framing his sharp, almost aristocratic features. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room with a mix of calculation and amusement, a subtle smirk playing at his lips.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” the professor said, his voice smooth yet laced with an unmistakable air of arrogance. “I am Mr. Luna, your psychology professor.” His Spanish accent rolled off his words, adding a certain flair to his introduction.

[Name] exchanged a glance with Tokimitsu, who looked intimidated, and Wakatsuki, who seemed indifferent but a little wary.

“Let’s begin with attendance,” Mr. Luna continued, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scanned his list. With every name he called, he made a sarcastic remark or sharp observation, his tone teetering between playful and cutting as he went down the list of names.

“Tokimitsu Aoishi,” he called, glancing up. “Ah, the gentle giant. Try not to crush your desk with those massive hands.”

Tokimitsu blushed deeply, his hands fumbling with his notebook. “Y-Yes, sir,” he mumbled. Taking many names along the way and landed on Itsuki’s.

“Wakatsuki Itsuki,” Mr. Luna said next, his gaze sharp. “You look like you’ve barely slept. Are we keeping you from your beauty rest?”

Wakatsuki muttered something incoherent, avoiding eye contact.

When Mr. Luna finally reached [Name]’s name, his smirk widened slightly. “[Name] Sanzuku,” he said, leaning back as if to assess her. “A name with weight. Let’s hope the mind is just as remarkable.”

[Name] felt a prickle of nerves under his scrutinizing gaze but nodded politely. “Yes, sir.”

With the attendance completed, Mr. Luna strode to the front of the class. “Let’s begin,” he announced, his tone shifting to a lecture style that was both engaging and unnervingly direct. “Psychology is not for the faint-hearted. If you think you can skate by, I assure you, you won’t. Now, open your textbooks. You’ll need them.”

As the lesson progressed, [Name] couldn’t shake the feeling of being observed. Glancing around, she caught the blond boy with the pink tips watching her again, his smirk still firmly in place. Then she noticed Reo glancing her way briefly before refocusing on his notes. Even the boy with the glasses looked over at her once or twice, adjusting his frames with a thoughtful expression.

[Name] shook her head, determined to focus on the lecture. It was going to be a long day.

As the lecture continued, Itsuki leaned over his textbook, visibly struggling to work through a particularly tricky question. [Name] noticed his furrowed brow and whispered softly, “Do you need help with that?”

Itsuki glanced at her, his dark-ringed eyes lighting up briefly with hope. “Uh, yeah… If you don’t mind—”

Before he could finish, Mr. Luna appeared beside their desks, his hand pressing firmly down on Itsuki’s textbook. “Figure it out yourself,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his piercing eyes. “If you can’t, you won’t meet the requirements for this course.”

Itsuki froze, his hands tightening into fists under the desk as the professor’s words hung heavy in the air. [Name] frowned, her instinct to protest bubbling up, but Mr. Luna was already walking away, his smile unbroken as he moved back to the front of the room.

Leaning closer to Itsuki, she whispered, “Don’t worry about him. You’re doing fine. Just take your time, and if you still need help, I’ll find a way to explain later.”

Itsuki nodded slowly, his tense posture easing slightly as he muttered a quiet, “Thanks.”

The class carried on with lectures and notes, the scratching of pens and shuffling of papers filling the room. [Name] was fully engrossed in her notebook when she felt something soft hit her shoulder. Startled, she looked down and saw a crumpled paper ball sitting on her desk.

Turning her head, she caught sight of the blond guy with pink-tipped hair sitting a few rows behind her. He leaned back in his chair with a smug grin, snickering as he pointed at the paper ball, clearly proud of his childish attempt to get her attention.

Suppressing a sigh, [Name] picked up the paper and carefully uncrumpled it. The message inside made her roll her eyes:

"You’re really cute. What’s your number?"

Without missing a beat, [Name] crumpled the paper back into a ball and tossed it into the nearby trash can. The blond boy let out a soft “Tch” sound, but his smirk didn’t falter, as if he found her reaction amusing.

Unbothered, [Name] turned her attention back to her notes, resolutely focusing on the lecture. If he thought she’d be an easy target, he was in for a surprise.

As the lecture concluded and students began to gather their belongings, the usual bustle of chatter filled the room. [Name] neatly packed her notebook and pens into her bag, eager to move on to her next class without further distractions. Just as she zipped her bag, she felt an imposing presence behind her. Turning slowly, her gaze met with a mischievous smirk and striking pink-tipped blond hair.

It was the same guy who had thrown the paper ball earlier.

“Well, well, fancy seeing you here,” he drawled, his cat-like pink eyes glinting with amusement. His voice was smooth but carried a cocky undertone. “Name’s Ryusei Shidou. And you, princess, caught my eye.”

[Name] blinked, her brows furrowing. “Princess?” she echoed, her tone flat. “What do you want?”

Leaning against her desk, Ryusei folded his arms and grinned wider, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Just wanted to say hi. You know, I couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked ignoring me earlier. Thought I’d give you another chance to talk to me.”

[Name]’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Another chance? Wow, you really think highly of yourself, don’t you?” She stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Look, I don’t have time for this, so if you’ll excuse me—”

Ryusei sidestepped, effectively blocking her path. His grin turned feral, and there was a wild energy in his eyes now, like he was enjoying some kind of game. “You’re feisty. I like that,” he said, tilting his head to examine her closely. “Bet you’re not used to a guy like me, huh?”

“Used to what?” [Name] snapped, folding her arms. “Guys who think they’re all that just because they can talk a big game? Please. I’ve seen it before, and it’s not impressive.”

That struck a nerve, but Ryusei masked it quickly with a low chuckle. “Ouch. Got some claws, don’t you? Makes me want to see what’s under all that sass.”

[Name] shot him a glare, her heterochromatic eyes narrowing. “What’s under it? A very annoyed person who’s two seconds away from walking right past you.”

Ryusei’s smirk twitched, his excitement bubbling up further. “See, that’s what I mean. You’re not like the others. They’d either run away or be all over me by now.” He stepped closer, invading her personal space, his grin widening to reveal his sharp teeth. “But you? You’ve got bite. I like a girl who makes me work for it.”

[Name] took a step back, her patience thinning. “I’m not some prize for you to win. And for the record, your ‘charming bad boy’ act? It’s not working.”

Ryusei laughed, the sound loud and unrestrained, drawing the attention of a few lingering students who quickly turned away when he shot them a sharp look. “You’re killing me, princess! God, you’ve got no idea how much fun this is.”

“Fun? I’m not here to entertain you,” [Name] retorted, her voice icy. She gestured to the exit. “Move.”

He didn’t budge, his playful demeanor shifting slightly into something more intense. His pink eyes bore into hers, the smirk on his lips softening but not fading entirely. “You’ve got this fire in you,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone. “It’s rare. Makes me wonder... what’s it gonna take to make you notice me?”

[Name] stared at him, her expression a mix of disbelief and irritation. “Notice you? You’re standing in front of me, making a scene. Congratulations, I’ve noticed. Now what?”

Ryusei leaned in just enough to make her flinch but not enough to touch her. “Now... I figured out how to keep you interested.”

[Name] took a steadying breath, clenching her fists to keep her composure. “Here’s a tip: Start by leaving me alone.”

Before he could respond, she sidestepped him and walked toward the door, her pace brisk.

“Feisty and smart,” Ryusei called after her, his grin returning. “You’ll come around, princess. They always do.”

[Name] didn’t look back, her steps echoing in the hallway as she muttered under her breath, “Not in this lifetime.”

As she disappeared around the corner, Ryusei stood in the now-empty classroom, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. His heart raced—not with frustration but with exhilaration.

“She’s different,” he murmured to himself, running a hand through his messy blond and pink hair. “Hard to get, huh? That just makes the game more fun.”

For [Name], the encounter left a sour taste in her mouth, but for Ryusei, it was only the beginning.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] trudged toward the history classroom with a heavy sigh, her steps dragging as though the weight of her dread was physically pulling her down. History, of all things, she thought miserably. The one subject she couldn't wrap her head around, no matter how hard she tried. Dates, events, and figures—all of it blurred together in her mind like a dull, repetitive reel.

Sliding into a seat toward the middle of the back row, she dropped her bag onto the desk and slouched, letting out a groan. “Please let this be easy for once,” she muttered under her breath, staring at the clock ticking closer to the start of class.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a cheerful voice. “[Name]-san?”

Looking up, she spotted Akira walking into the room, his sharp outfit slightly disheveled but still exuding his signature charm. A small smile tugged at her lips. “Akira-kun! You’re in this class too?”

Akira took the seat next to hers, flashing her a warm grin. “Looks like it. Lucky for you, right? I can tell this isn’t your favorite subject.”

“You can say that again,” she replied, slumping further into her chair. “I’m terrible at history. It’s like my brain just refuses to hold onto any of it. Honestly, I don’t know how I’m going to survive this semester.”

Akira chuckled softly, adjusting his tie. “Good thing I’m here, then. History’s one of my better subjects. If you ever need help, just ask me.”

[Name] perked up slightly. “Really? You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he said, leaning back casually. “I mean, you’re already in my debt for your number earlier, so what’s a little more tutoring?”

She laughed, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Oh, please. You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he teased, winking.

Their lighthearted banter was interrupted by the arrival of more students filing into the room. One of them, a tall boy with dark skin and long, intricately braided hair, caught [Name]’s attention. He walked to the front left row with a quiet confidence, his white, circular eyes scanning the room before settling into his seat.

Akira noticed her gaze. “That’s Agi,” he explained, leaning closer so his voice wouldn’t carry. “He’s kind of a history whiz. A little intense when it comes to analyzing things, but he’s a good guy.”

[Name] tilted her head, intrigued. “He seems... interesting.”

At that moment, Agi turned his head slightly and caught her looking. His eyes widened a fraction, and a faint blush dusted his cheeks. He gave her a small, awkward wave, which [Name] returned with a friendly smile and a wave of her own.

Akira smirked, noticing the exchange. “Looks like you’ve already made an impression.”

“Stop,” [Name] said, rolling her eyes but smiling despite herself. “I was just being polite.”

Agi quickly looked away, focusing on unpacking his notebook and pens with a slightly flustered expression. He muttered something under his breath, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The room continued to fill, the hum of voices growing louder as students greeted each other and settled into their seats. [Name] felt a little more at ease knowing Akira was there and that Agi seemed approachable. For a moment, she even forgot about how much she disliked history.

Akira nudged her arm. “Don’t get too comfortable. If Agi starts answering every question, you’ll have to deal with his teacher’s-pet energy.”

[Name] stifled a laugh. “Well, at least someone’s enthusiastic about this stuff.”

As she glanced around the room, her eyes lingered on Agi once more. He seemed to be in his own world, focused and ready to tackle whatever the class threw at him. ‘Maybe history won’t be so bad with people like this around’ she thought, allowing herself a small glimmer of hope.

The sound of the classroom door shutting drew everyone’s attention as another student entered, and [Name] glanced at the clock again. Only a few minutes left before the lecture would begin. She braced herself, determined to make the most of it—no matter how much she despised the subject.

As [Name] and Akira continued chatting about their mutual disdain—or expertise, in Akira’s case—for history, a voice from behind them broke through their conversation.

“Forgot to save me a seat, Endoji?”

Akira turned in his chair, his face lighting up. “Reiji! I didn’t think you’d make it on time. You’re usually late.”

[Name] looked up, and for a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Standing behind Akira was the most breathtakingly handsome man she had ever seen. He was tall and elegant, his long black hair tied neatly into a bun that accentuated his sharp features. His all-white irises gave him an otherworldly aura, and beneath each eye were twin moles that added to his almost ethereal charm.

Reiji Hiiragi’s gaze swept the room briefly before landing on [Name], his lips curving into a smile that was equal parts welcoming and enigmatic. “And who might this be?” he asked, his voice smooth and deliberate as his eyes lingered on her.

[Name] quickly straightened in her seat, her heart skipping a beat. “Oh, I’m [Name] Sanzuku,” she said, her voice steady despite the warmth creeping up her neck. “Nice to meet you.”

Reiji chuckled softly, his gaze sharp and calculating as he seemed to inspect her every move. “A pleasure, [Name]. I’m Reiji Hiiragi.” He held her gaze for a moment longer before adding, “I see Akira has found himself an interesting seatmate.”

[Name] blinked at the comment, unsure whether it was meant to be a compliment or a casual observation. Either way, she felt a strange pull toward him, like his presence demanded attention.

“Reiji’s one of my roommates,” Akira said, breaking the tension with his usual lighthearted tone. “We’ve been stuck together since the semester started. He’s got some… interesting habits, let’s say.”

“Fortune-telling is hardly a ‘habit,’” Reiji corrected, taking the seat directly behind Akira and leaning forward so his elbows rested on the desk. “It’s a science—a skill honed through data, observation, and intuition. Not that you’d understand, Endoji.”

Akira rolled his eyes but grinned. “See what I mean? He’s always like this.”

“Fortune-telling?” [Name] asked, tilting her head. “That’s fascinating. Do you do predictions for people, or is it more of a personal thing?”

Reiji’s smile widened, and for a moment, there was a flicker of excitement in his otherwise composed demeanor. “I do both. People come to me seeking clarity, and most of the time, I deliver. My accuracy rate speaks for itself.” His gaze dropped to her hands briefly before returning to her eyes. “Though I get the feeling you don’t rely much on predictions, do you? You seem more… instinct-driven.”

[Name] blinked, caught off guard by his perceptiveness. “I guess you could say that,” she admitted.

“Interesting,” Reiji murmured, leaning back slightly as if filing the information away for later.

The three of them continued chatting, their conversation weaving between lighthearted banter and more serious topics. [Name] found herself warming up to Reiji, despite the unsettling intensity of his gaze. He was charming and articulate, but there was something about him that felt slightly off—a subtle undercurrent of unpredictability beneath his polished exterior.

Akira, ever the mediator, kept the tone friendly and casual, though he occasionally shot Reiji a warning glance whenever his roommate’s comments veered into overly analytical territory.

“So, [Name],” Reiji said after a while, his tone light but with an edge of curiosity. “What’s your take on history? Love it or hate it?”

She let out a dramatic groan, leaning back in her chair. “Absolutely hate it. If it weren’t a required class, I wouldn’t be here.”

Reiji chuckled, his laughter low and rich. “Ah, a reluctant scholar. Don’t worry—I’m sure Akira will be more than happy to help you muddle through it.”

“Hey! I told her already that I got this!” Akira protested, though he was smiling.

[Name] laughed softly, feeling more at ease despite her initial nerves. The atmosphere between the three of them was surprisingly comfortable, even with Reiji’s piercing gaze occasionally making her self-conscious.

As the classroom continued to fill with students, [Name] glanced at the clock. The professor still hadn’t arrived, but she could sense the anticipation building in the room. For now, though, she was content to focus on her two companions, grateful for the distraction from her looming dislike of the subject.

The classroom chatter was cut short as the door swung open with an authoritative thud, and a tall, imposing figure strode inside. Chris Prince, or as he insisted on being called, Mr. Prince, immediately commanded attention with his presence. His blonde hair, streaked with white, was unkempt but styled in a way that somehow worked for him, and his light blue eyes seemed to scan the room with both amusement and disdain.

“Alright, you lot,” he began in a booming voice, his British accent laced with an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance. “Hope you’ve got your brains switched on today, because I don’t plan on holding your hand through this subject. History,” he said, rolling his sleeves up to reveal his muscular forearms, “isn’t for the faint-hearted.”

[Name] slouched slightly in her seat, dreading every word.

“Attendance first, because I need to know who’s going to make my life a headache this semester.” He began calling out names, marking them on a clipboard with a dramatic flourish.

When he reached [Name]’s name, he looked up briefly, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. “[Name] Sanzuku.”

“Here,” she squeaked, immediately regretting how small her voice sounded.

Chris arched an eyebrow, muttering, “Hm. We’ll see how you hold up.” He continued down the list without further comment, but [Name] felt like she’d already been singled out.

Once attendance was over, Chris set the clipboard aside and turned to the board, picking up a piece of chalk with a theatrical air. “Right. Let’s dive in, shall we? Today’s lecture is about the Battle of Hastings. 1066. A date that should be etched into your memory, unless you’ve been living under a rock.”

He began writing “1066” in large, bold letters on the board, underlining it twice for emphasis. “This wasn’t just any battle, folks. This was the clash that shaped the course of English history. The Normans versus the Anglo-Saxons. William the Conqueror versus Harold Godwinson. A battle for the throne, power, and legacy. Sound dramatic? It bloody was.”

[Name] scribbled in her notebook, her pen moving faster than her brain could keep up. Chris’s lecture was like a freight train—fast, intense, and unforgiving.

“Now, who can tell me,” he said, spinning around to face the class, “why the Normans had an advantage over the Anglo-Saxons? Anyone?” His gaze swept the room.

Several students avoided eye contact, but a boy in the front raised his hand. It was Agi, the teacher’s pet.

“They had cavalry, sir,” Agi answered confidently.

Chris nodded approvingly. “Good man. Yes, the Normans had cavalry. They used it to devastating effect. Meanwhile, the Anglo-Saxons? They were stuck in their bloody shield wall, which—spoiler alert—didn’t end well for them.”

As Chris continued, [Name]’s head started to spin. He was throwing out terms like feudal levies, Housecarls, and flanking maneuvers at breakneck speed.

“Now, what about tactics? Why did Harold’s shield wall eventually break? Anyone?” Chris scanned the room again, his eyes narrowing. “Miss Sanzuku,” he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

[Name] froze, her pen slipping from her hand.

“Yes, you. Enlighten us.”

She stammered, her mind a complete blank. “Uh… um… maybe… because they… uh… weren’t… strong enough?”

The room erupted in a few muffled snickers, and Chris raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Not strong enough? Brilliant deduction. By that logic, they should’ve just hit the gym, eh?” He smirked, leaning against his desk. “The correct answer, for those of you who don’t want to embarrass yourselves like Miss Sanzuku, is that they broke formation to chase after the Norman forces, who were feigning a retreat. A classic bait-and-switch. Schoolboy error, really.”

[Name] wanted to melt into the floor. She buried her face in her hands before letting her forehead hit the desk with a quiet thud. Akira leaned over, whispering, “Don’t let him get to you. He’s just a jerk.”

Chris’s voice boomed again, pulling her back into the present. “Right, moving on! What was the significance of the Bayeux Tapestry in documenting the battle? And don’t you dare say it’s just a bloody rug!”

[Name] groaned internally, her brain already fried. Akira passed her a quick note with a scribbled answer, but she was too mortified to even consider raising her hand again.

For the rest of the lecture, she kept her head down, occasionally sneaking glances at Akira’s notes to make sense of Chris’s rapid-fire explanations. By the time the class ended, her notebook was filled with barely legible scribbles, and her confidence had taken a serious hit.

As Chris dismissed the class with a final, “Next time, come prepared, or don’t come at all,” [Name] sighed deeply, feeling like she’d barely survived a battlefield of her own.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The lunchroom buzzed with the usual chaos of students chattering, laughing, and clattering their trays. [Name], Hitomi, and Ruka sat together at a cozy table by the window, the sunlight streaming in to cast warm patterns on their trays. [Name] slouched in her seat, poking at her rice with her chopsticks, still reeling from her mortifying experience in Mr. Prince’s history class.

"I swear," she groaned, "if history class is a battlefield, then Mr. Prince is a dictator. I fumbled so hard he probably thinks I don’t have a brain in my head." She dramatically rested her forehead on the table, earning a sympathetic pat on the back from Hitomi.

"Don’t be too hard on yourself, [Name]," Hitomi said gently. “Everyone knows he’s a perfectionist and thrives on making people squirm. You’ll get used to his style.”

“Used to it?” [Name] said, sitting up and huffing. “I’d rather not be roasted alive every class.”

Ruka chuckled and gave her an encouraging smile as he leaned back in his chair. “Prince’s class is tough, yeah, but you’ve always been a fast learner. You’ll bounce back. Besides,” he added with a glint of mischief, “if he gives you too much trouble, just let me know. I’ll have a word.”

[Name] rolled her eyes. “No need for the knight-in-shining-armor act, Ruka. I’ve got this.”

“Alright, alright,” Ruka said with a smirk, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But seriously, how were your other classes? Any better than the war zone?”

[Name] sighed but smiled faintly as she thought back to her day. “Lavinho’s class was actually fun—he’s so energetic it’s impossible to hate him. Plus, I met Kira and Gagamaru. They’re… interesting, to say the least.”

“Oh, Kira’s a good guy,” Ruka said. “And Gagamaru—well, he’s definitely one of a kind.”

“Economical Biology wasn’t bad either,” [Name] continued. “Aryu’s in there, and he’s really nice. Also, I helped Isagi a bit, so that was cool.”

“See? Not everything’s doom and gloom,” Hitomi said with a warm smile.

[Name] nodded, though her expression soured slightly as she moved on. “Psychology was okay, I guess. Luna’s a character, though—kind of a mix of strict and smug. But at least the lesson itself wasn’t too bad. I even made some new friends: Tokimitsu and Itsuki. They’re sweet, though Tokimitsu is so nervous he looks like he’s about to faint half the time.”

Hitomi laughed. “He’s like a puppy, isn’t he?”

“Totally,” [Name] said, grinning briefly before her face darkened. “But you know who isn’t sweet? Ryusei Shidou. I can’t stand him.”

The moment she said his name, Ruka spat out his drink so violently that it sprayed across the table, narrowly missing [Name]’s tray. He coughed and thumped his chest as Hitomi frantically handed him a napkin.

“What the hell, Ruka?!” [Name] exclaimed, leaning back to avoid the aftermath of his dramatic reaction.

Ruka wiped his mouth, his expression shifting from shock to outright alarm. “Ryusei Shidou?” he repeated, his voice laced with disbelief. “You have Shidou in your class?!”

“Yeah,” [Name] said slowly, frowning at his over-the-top response. “Why? What’s the big deal?”

Ruka’s jaw tightened, and he looked genuinely worried. “[Name], that guy is bad news. Like, flashing-red-neon-sign bad news. You need to stay far away from him.”

“Trust me, I’m already doing that,” [Name] replied, crossing her arms. “The guy’s a total creep. He threw a paper ball at me during class, asking for my number, and when I ignored him, he cornered me after class trying to impress me. It was pathetic.”

Ruka groaned, running a hand through his hair. “That’s exactly what I was afraid of. Shidou doesn’t take rejection well, and he’s got a reputation for being… unstable.”

“Unstable how?” Hitomi asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

“Let’s just say he’s not above using intimidation or worse to get what he wants,” Ruka said grimly. “He’s obsessive, unpredictable, and has zero boundaries. If he’s got his sights set on you, [Name], you need to be careful.”

[Name] blinked, taken aback by the seriousness in Ruka’s tone. “I mean, yeah, he’s annoying, but he doesn’t scare me. I can handle myself.”

“[Name],” Ruka said firmly, leaning forward, “this isn’t a joke. Shidou is not like the other guys you’ve dealt with. He’s... dangerous. Promise me you’ll avoid him as much as possible.”

Hitomi placed a reassuring hand on [Name]’s shoulder. “He’s right. It’s better to be cautious, especially if someone like Ruka is this worried.”

[Name] hesitated but eventually nodded. “Okay, fine. I’ll keep my distance. Not that I wanted to be near him anyway.”

Ruka relaxed slightly, though the concern in his eyes didn’t fade entirely. “Good. Just... don’t let your guard down, okay? And if he gives you any trouble, you come to me immediately.”

“Got it, Mom,” [Name] said with a teasing smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

Ruka sighed but smiled faintly, ruffling her hair. “Just looking out for you, kiddo. That’s what cousins are for.”

As the tension eased, the trio continued their lunch, though [Name] couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling creeping into the back of her mind. If Ryusei really was as dangerous as Ruka said, she might be in for more trouble than she’d anticipated.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] and Hitomi walked into the business classroom, still buzzing with conversation from lunch. Ruka’s parting warning lingered in their minds, but [Name] brushed it off, eager to get through the day. As they entered the room, [Name]’s eyes scanned the rows of desks—and immediately froze when she spotted a familiar figure sitting near the window.

There, with his cyan hair catching the light and his soft features even more striking than she remembered, was Yo Hiori, her childhood best friend.

“Yo-kun?” [Name] called out, her voice laced with surprise and excitement.

Yo looked up, and the moment their eyes met, his face broke into a warm, delighted smile. “[Name]-chan!” he exclaimed, standing up to greet her. “It’s been forever!”

[Name] hurried over, pulling him into a quick, affectionate hug. “I can’t believe you’re here! Why didn’t you tell me you’d be in this class?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Yo admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “Looks like it worked.”

Hitomi, standing a little to the side, gave a small wave. “You must be Yo Hiori. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Yo nodded politely, offering her a friendly smile. “And you must be Hitomi. [Name]-chan’s mentioned you before too. Nice to finally meet you.”

The trio quickly found seats together near the middle of the room, [Name] insisting on sitting between Yo and Hitomi. As they settled in, Yo turned to [Name], his gaze softening.

“So, how’s your day been so far?” he asked, his tone gentle but filled with genuine curiosity.

[Name] groaned, slumping dramatically in her chair. “Don’t even get me started. History class was a train wreck. Mr. Prince is brutal, and I made a complete fool of myself in front of the entire class.”

Yo frowned, his brows knitting together in concern. “That doesn’t sound like you, [Name]-chan. What happened?”

“I blanked when he called on me,” [Name] admitted with a sigh. “Completely frozen. It was so embarrassing.”

Yo reached over, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it. Everyone has off days. Besides, you’re one of the smartest people I know. You’ll bounce back.”

[Name] smiled at him, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Thanks, Yo-kun. You always know what to say.”

Hitomi, watching the interaction, stifled a knowing smile but decided to steer the conversation. “So, Yo-kun, how have you been? It’s been a while since you two last saw each other, right?”

Yo nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, it’s been a few weeks. But I’ve been good—keeping busy, trying to balance classes and soccer.”

“Still with soccer, huh?” [Name] said, tilting her head. “I thought you’d given up on that.”

Yo hesitated for a moment, his smile faltering slightly. “Yeah, well… let’s just say I’m still figuring things out.”

[Name] noticed the shift in his expression but decided not to press further. Instead, she changed the subject, her tone light and teasing. “Anyway, you’re going to have to help me survive this class. Business isn’t exactly my forte.”

Yo chuckled, the warmth returning to his eyes. “Don’t worry, [Name]-chan. I’ve got your back. Besides, I’m pretty good at simplifying things. It’s like a game—just break it down into steps and focus on the strategy.”

“Leave it to Yo-kun to make business sound like a video game,” [Name] said with a laugh.

As the conversation flowed, Yo couldn’t help but steal glances at [Name], his heart racing every time she smiled or laughed. She looked so radiant, even when she was stressed or annoyed. He’d always admired her confidence, her drive, and her ability to light up a room without even trying.

In his mind, a small but persistent hope lingered: ‘One day, [Name]-chan. One day, I’ll tell you how I feel’

For now, he was content just being by her side, supporting her in any way he could. As the three of them continued talking, the classroom gradually filled with other students, the hum of voices growing louder.

[Name] felt a sense of comfort she hadn’t felt all day. With Yo and Hitomi by her side, maybe business class wouldn’t be so bad after all.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] and Hitomi continued chatting with Yo, the mood light and pleasant as students trickled into the classroom. The sound of shuffling bags and murmured conversations filled the room, creating a lively atmosphere. [Name] glanced up as the door creaked open, catching sight of a boy with bright pink hair and a single braid hanging by his face. His pink eyes flicked around nervously, and the faint glint of sharp teeth peeked through his slightly parted lips.

“Oh! Kurona!” Yo called out, waving to the boy.

Ranze Kurona hesitated for a moment before nodding shyly and making his way to the seat beside Yo.

“Hi, Kurona-kun,” [Name] greeted warmly, her smile genuine. Hitomi joined in with a polite wave.

Ranze blinked at them, his pale cheeks flushing pink. “Ah… hi, hi,” he mumbled, avoiding direct eye contact. “I-I’m Kurona. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!” [Name] chirped. “I’ve heard about you from Yo-kun.”

Ranze’s blush deepened, and he ducked his head, muttering a quiet, “Thank you, thank you,” before quickly focusing on arranging his materials. Yo gave him an encouraging pat on the back, clearly used to his friend’s bashful demeanor.

The door opened again, and this time, a tall figure with spiky orange hair entered. His confident stride and broad shoulders made him stand out immediately. [Name] couldn’t help but notice the contrast between his intense aura and the calm, almost serene expression he wore.

“That’s Rensuke Kunigami,” Yo whispered to the girls. “He’s… let’s just say he’s one of the good guys.”

Kunigami made his way down the rows of desks, his auburn eyes scanning the room before settling on an empty seat near the end of their row. He nodded politely at the others but didn’t engage in conversation, instead pulling out a pen and notebook with quiet focus.

“He seems serious,” Hitomi observed, tilting her head.

“He is,” Yo confirmed. “But he’s also one of the most dependable people you’ll ever meet.”

As they watched Kunigami settle in, the door opened yet again to reveal a towering figure with spiky white hair that seemed to defy gravity. The sheer height of the newcomer made heads turn, and even [Name] had to crane her neck slightly to take him in.

“Whoa,” she muttered under her breath.

“That’s Haru Hayate,” Yo explained softly. “Don’t let his size intimidate you—he’s actually pretty chill.”

Haru moved to the very back of the room, his long legs making the journey seem effortless. He quietly took the seat in the farthest corner, his calm expression never wavering as he observed the room with a relaxed gaze.

“Tall and quiet,” Hitomi said, raising an eyebrow. “Interesting combo.”

“Pretty much sums him up,” Yo agreed with a small chuckle.

The flow of students continued, and soon another figure caught [Name]’s attention—a boy with chin-length dark brown hair and a friendly smile that didn’t quite reach his sharp red eyes. He exuded a confident, almost calculating energy as he strolled in, scanning the room with a casual air.

“Kuon Wataru,” Yo muttered under his breath, his tone noticeably cooler.

“Friend of yours?” [Name] asked, catching the change in his demeanor.

“Not exactly,” Yo replied, his voice low. “Just… keep an eye on him. He’s not as friendly as he looks.”

Kuon took a seat in the front row, pulling out his materials with practiced ease. Despite his outward calm, there was a subtle edge to his movements, as if he were constantly strategizing.

The room continued to fill with familiar and unfamiliar faces, the buzz of conversation growing louder as the start of class approached. [Name] found herself glancing at each new arrival, wondering who they were and what kind of personalities they brought to the table.

As the chatter reached its peak, the door slammed open dramatically, causing several students to jump in their seats. A hush fell over the room as everyone turned to see who had arrived.

“Well, well, well,” a deep, confident voice drawled. “Looks like I’ve got myself quite the audience today.”

[Name]’s heart sank as she realized the professor had arrived.

As the last stragglers settled into their seats, the room hushed once more. The door opened with a calm, deliberate motion, and in walked a tall man who immediately commanded attention without trying. His light hair was tied back with a bandanna, his sharp, owl-like orange eyes scanning the class as though taking in every detail in an instant. He carried himself with a quiet confidence, his presence magnetic and undeniable.

“Good afternoon, class,” he greeted, his voice rich with a thick Italian accent. His tone was polite but firm, a clear indicator that he expected respect and focus. “I am Marc Snuffy, but please call me Mr. Snuffy, your professor for this business course. For some of you, this might be your first exposure to the complexities of business management, and for others, perhaps not. Either way, I assure you—by the end of this semester, you will understand not just how to build a business, but how to sustain it.”

He paused, letting his words sink in as he walked toward the desk at the front of the room. His movements were smooth and deliberate, his gaze steady.

“I believe in strategy,” he continued, folding his hands in front of him. “Not just in business, but in life. There is no point in rushing ahead if you do not know where you are going or why. So, today, we start with the foundations. Stock markets, investments, building a team… all critical components for success.”

Snuffy’s words carried weight, and even [Name] found herself leaning forward slightly, intrigued despite herself. She scribbled down notes as he began to elaborate on the stock market, explaining concepts like supply and demand, market trends, and the importance of understanding risk management.

To her surprise, the lesson wasn’t as overwhelming as she had feared. Snuffy’s calm and patient teaching style made even the most complex topics feel accessible, and his occasional anecdotes from his own career added a personal touch that kept the class engaged.

[Name] felt herself smiling faintly as she wrote down the details of his latest example, feeling confident that she could keep up with this class. For once, she didn’t feel like she was drowning in jargon.

But then, a strange sensation prickled at the back of her neck. The feeling of being watched.

She glanced up briefly, her eyes flicking around the room. To her left, Rensuke Kunigami sat with his notebook open, pen in hand, but his gaze wasn’t on the professor. It was on her.

[Name] blinked, caught off guard by his focused expression. The intensity in his auburn eyes was unsettling, yet there was no malice there—just something unreadable that made her quickly look back at her notes.

‘Maybe he’s zoning out’ she thought, brushing it off.

But the sensation didn’t go away. If anything, it felt stronger. Her heart skipped as she realized someone was also watching her from behind.

She subtly adjusted her posture and turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of Haru Hayate out of the corner of her eye. Despite being seated at the very back, his wide eyes were trained on her, unblinking and calm.

‘What is up with these guys?’ [Name] thought, suppressing the urge to groan. She hastily redirected her attention to Snuffy, who had moved on to discussing business building and team management strategies.

“Remember,” Snuffy said, his voice breaking through her flustered thoughts, “a successful business is like a team. Each member must understand their role and their value. There is no room for selfishness, nor for weakness. A true leader strengthens the individuals around them while keeping the bigger picture in mind.”

[Name] scribbled down the words, her focus returning as Snuffy’s lecture drew her back in. The professor was captivating, his calm demeanor oddly inspiring.

Even so, the awareness of those watchful eyes didn’t fade entirely. She resolved to ignore it, refusing to let herself be distracted. Whatever Kunigami and Haru were thinking, it wasn’t her problem. Right now, all that mattered was understanding Snuffy’s lessons and making it through this class.

As the lecture continued, she found herself gradually relaxing, the flow of information drowning out the unease—at least for the time being.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The break period offered a much-needed reprieve from the whirlwind of classes. After Hitomi excused herself to handle some obligations, [Name] and Yo decided to make their way to the library. The walk there was quiet yet comfortable, the kind of silence shared between old friends who didn’t need to fill the air with constant chatter.

Upon entering the library, the faint smell of old paper and polished wood filled [Name]’s senses. She glanced around, her eyes landing on familiar faces seated at one of the large communal tables near the back. Isagi Yoichi was hunched over a notebook, scribbling away with focused determination. Sitting beside him were two other students she recognized from passing glances—Nanase Nijiro, with his soft purple eyes and country charm, and Meguru Bachira, whose distinct bob-cut hair made him hard to miss.

“Yo-kun, look,” [Name] nudged Yo gently and gestured toward the trio.

“Let’s go say hi,” Yo said with a small smile.

The two approached the table, and as soon as they were in earshot, Yoichi looked up, his serious expression softening into a grin.

“Hey, Hiori, [Name],” Yoichi greeted, leaning back in his chair.

Nijiro turned to them, bowing his head slightly in greeting. “Oh, hello there. You must be [Name]-san. I’ve heard a lot about you from Hiori and Yoichi.”

[Name] returned the smile warmly, bowing back. “It’s nice to meet you, Nanase-san. And Bachira-san, right?”

Meguru grinned brightly, waving his hand dismissively. “Just call me Bachira! Everyone does.”

As introductions concluded, Yo and [Name] took seats at the table, settling into the lively atmosphere. While Yoichi seemed intent on continuing his work, Nijiro and [Name] exchanged pleasantries, discussing the challenges of adapting to college life. Meguru , meanwhile, had taken to doodling little monsters on the corner of his notebook, clearly uninterested in the tasks at hand.

“So,” [Name] began, glancing between them, “what are you all working on?”

“Business stuff,” Yoichi replied without looking up. “I swear, Snuffy-sensei makes everything sound simple, but when you try to apply it, it’s like solving a puzzle with missing pieces.”

Nijiro nodded in agreement, chuckling. “I’m from the countryside, so I didn’t grow up hearing much about things like stocks and management. It’s all new to me.”

“Meh,” Meguru interjected, flipping his pencil. “Who cares about boring stuff like that? Let’s do something fun instead.”

As if on cue, he reached into his bag and pulled out a brightly colored deck of Uno cards, fanning them out like a magician.

“Uno?” [Name] asked, tilting her head.

“Yep! Perfect for blowing off steam,” Meguru declared, already shuffling the deck. “C’mon, everyone, let’s play!”

Despite initial protests from Yoichi, everyone ultimately caved, rearranging themselves around the table for a game.

The game started off lighthearted enough, with everyone chuckling as they slapped down cards and exchanged playful jabs.

“Blue,” Nijiro declared, placing a 4 on the pile.

“Not anymore!” Yo smirked, slapping down a color change card. “Red.”

“Why, Yo-kun?!” [Name] groaned, staring at the red in frustration.

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Yoichi replied with a shrug, putting down a card.

The game quickly escalated into chaos when Meguru gleefully dropped a +4 card onto [Name]’s pile.

“Why do you hate me, Bachira-san?!” she exclaimed, her stack of cards growing taller by the second.

“It’s not hate—it’s strategy,” Meguru teased, flashing his toothy grin.

Nijiro, meanwhile, was struggling with his hand, the deck in front of him resembling a small mountain. “I swear, there’s no red or a single number I can use!” he lamented, flipping through his cards.

The group burst into laughter, the volume earning a sharp glare and a “Shhh!” from the stern librarian across the room. They quieted down momentarily, exchanging sheepish glances before the game resumed.

“Skip!” Meguru announced, gleefully skipping [Name]’s turn for the second time.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re making an enemy out of me.”

“Bring it on, [Name]-chan!”

Yo, meanwhile, played strategically, carefully placing his cards without drawing too much attention. His calm, methodical approach eventually paid off when he announced triumphantly, “Uno!”

The table erupted in chaos as Yoichi, Nijiro, and [Name] desperately tried to stop him, but it was too late. Yo placed his final card, earning him the victory.

“Winner, as always,” Yo said with a rare grin.

“I call a rematch!” Meguru shouted, shuffling the deck with renewed enthusiasm.

“Shhh!” The librarian’s sharp reprimand cut through the air again, her glare enough to silence even Meguru for a moment.

Despite the librarian’s repeated warnings, the break period turned out to be one of the most enjoyable parts of the day. The laughter, camaraderie, and lighthearted competitiveness made [Name] feel at ease, her earlier frustrations melting away.

As the group packed up to leave, [Name] found herself smiling. “Thanks for inviting us to play, Bachira. That was fun.”

“Anytime, [Name]-chan!” he replied with a wink.

Yo walked beside her as they left the library, his hands in his pockets. “It’s nice seeing you laugh like that. You’ve had a rough day.”

[Name] glanced at him, her smile softening. “Yeah… I needed that.”

Unbeknownst to her, Yo’s cheeks tinged slightly pink at her words, his heart skipping a beat. One day, he thought to himself. ‘One day, I’ll tell her how I feel.’

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝙲𝙾𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙿𝚄𝚂!! 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝟷𝟾 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛!!!

(Also, quick reminder! The person named Luiza Bogdanova is the SAME person I made for the Russian coach in those coaches x reader one shots I made! I didn't have enough staff members to put in for each class, so I had to improvise for making another staff! I hope you like her!)

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Blue Lock

Navigation

Masterlist

© 2024 Ｖｅｌｖｅｔｅｅｎ 平和な目覚め— do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform without my permission!