#ignore my pencil betraying me in this one

[halsteadlover]

𝐀+ 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Professor!Reid x Fem!Student Reader.

• Requested by anon: Any chance you write Spencer bending you over to fuck you?? Love the way you write him btw 🙏

• Warnings: oral sex f. receiving, dirty talk, unprotected sex (DON’T BE LIKE THEM FELLAS), very much public sex, just straight porn with a tiny bit of plot lmao

• Word count: 2528.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+. I hate how this turned out with every fiber of my being please don’t come at me😭

Falling for your professor was never part of the plan.

And starting an affair with him? Definitely not. But there you were, sitting in his lecture, pretending to take notes while your mind drifted back to the night before, when he fucked you stupid.

Spencer wasn’t oblivious. He noticed the way your gaze lingered on him, how you barely paid attention to his words, too busy fucking him with your eyes. It was almost impossible to ignore the heat radiating off you, the weight of your desire hanging in the air between you.

He tried to focus, tried to stick to the lecture, but his mind kept wandering. And you weren’t making it easy. Not when you sat there looking like that—chin resting on your hand, absentmindedly biting the end of your pencil, shifting in your seat just enough to betray your restlessness.

And he knew exactly why you couldn’t sit still.

His thoughts flickered back to last night, to the way you’d dropped to your knees for him, your lips wrapped around his dick, tears pricking your eyes as he fucked your mouth. The memory alone sent a sharp pulse of arousal through him, and judging by the way you pressed your thighs together, he wasn’t the only one struggling.

Still, his mouth kept moving, words spilling out automatically as he pushed through the lecture. But his focus was entirely on you. And it was your fault. Because you had wrecked him—mind and body—and now, not even a full classroom could pull him out of it.

“…And that’s it for today. Do you have any questions?” Spencer asked in conclusion, but mentally hoping no one would ask him anything. He internally sighed in relief when no one spoke. “Okay, you can go then, I’ll see you next week.”

He returned to the desk, slowly, very slowly, putting away his notes and files that he hadn’t actually used, occasionally looking at you with the corner of his eyes to see what you were doing and waving at the students who were starting to leave.

You, on the other hand, did the same, with almost unnerving slowness, putting your laptop back in its case as you waited for everyone to leave the classroom.

You approached Spencer, a small smile on your lips as you clutched your backpack to your shoulders.

“That was a great class, Professor Reid,” you began, swallowing the lump in your throat when Spencer went to close the classroom door and then leaned on the edge of the desk, his gaze fixed on you,hands in his pockets.

“Oh yeah?” He tilted his head slightly to the side, letting his eyes wander all over your body without any shame. “And tell me, what are your thoughts, Miss Y/Ln?”

Your cheeks warmed, but you refused to break eye contact. In fact, a surge of boldness stirred within you, especially when you caught the way he looked at you. Like a predator watching his prey, just waiting for the right moment to sink his teeth into you.

You took a step towards him, placing your backpack on his desk. You weren’t particularly close, but you were close enough you could smell his scent. “I was lying. I didn’t actually listen to it all to be honest, I was a little distracted.”

His lips curled into a smirk that made you almost faint. “So, would you like me to explain it to you again?”

You bit your lip and noticed how his gaze snapped to your mouth, how his pupils were dilated.

A small gasp left your mouth when his hands suddenly grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him. His arms wrapped around your waist and yours around his neck as your fingers began to play with his hair, just the way he liked it.

“I wouldn’t mind Professor,” you whispered, your nose brushing his as neither of you seemed to want to give in first despite the sexual tension being so high. “Of course, if it’s not a problem for you.”

He shook his head slightly, his hands gliding down your bare thighs, fingertips brushing over your skin until a trail of goosebumps followed his touch. The simplest caress had you squirming, aching for more, and soon his hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of you.

You let out a sigh as his hands lifted your skirt enough to expose your ass and he almost came in his pants when he realized you were not wearing underwear.

“What—Y/n are you trying to kill me?” He almost moaned, groping your ass and making you sigh as he pressed your body against his, rubbing his hard erection against you. In response your fingers spontaneously tightened around his hair, causing him to let out a little groan.

He pressed his lips to the crook of your neck, giving you no chance to respond as he began to lick and suck on your skin, on that exact spot he knew made you lose your mind.

“My pretty little slut, you came here with no panties hoping I would fuck you? If I had known I would’ve stopped class after five minutes,” he whispered nibbling on your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine.

One of his hands slid forward, cupping your pussy. His fingers began to touch you right where you needed them, spreading your wetness along your lips and clit. You moaned and he sucked your moans in as he pressed his mouth to yours. “As much as I love your moans you don’t want anyone to hear us, don’t you baby?”

“Spence… Please…” you begged him as his fingers continued to draw imaginary circles on your clit.

“Bend forward, hands on the desk and legs spread. I want to taste this pussy, it’s been too long.”

And by too long he meant last night.

You obeyed, without even having to be told twice. Your hands rested on the cold mahogany of his desk, the desk on which you had always imagined your professor fucking you since the first day of class. Spencer placed his palms on your naked ass, groping and touching it until he left you breathless and wanting more.

You didn’t know how he did it, but that man was able to unleash a feeling in you that you didn’t even know you had inside, a desire so deep and visceral you didn’t even recognize. He knew how to make you lose your mind, he knew how to make you squirm even with just a touch or a word and this scared you to death.

You tilted your head back over your shoulder—trying to catch a glimpse of him—seeing the way his eyes roamed your body, studying and devouring every inch of you. The intensity of his gaze alone nearly unraveled you. It felt like he was seeing you for the first time, even though this wasn’t the first time you’d found yourself in this position, completely at his mercy.

“I can see you dripping from here baby, is this all for me?”

“Yes, God, yes. I’ve been wet ever since you walked in the classroom,” you breathed out, not caring how desperate you sounded.

“What a sight you are Y/n,” his hands kept touching you, “I could sit here all day and just at look at you… You’re so perfect you could make me come in my pants just like this,” he murmured and your insides twitched in anticipation as you saw him lean behind you out of the corner of your eye.

A throaty moan escaped your mouth as his lips traced a long, slow line on your pussy and the groan he made against your folds was the sexiest and hottest sound you had ever heard in your life.

Spencer fucking Reid knew how to eat a pussy and fuck how grateful you were to be the woman who had the chance to experience it. He devoured you, his lips and tongue making you feel what the real pleasure was.

“Fuck Spence, fuck you’re so good,” you cursed breathlessly, clamming a hand over your mouth to stop the moans that were now completely out of control. His arms wrapped around your trembling thighs, holding you firmly on his face as his lips licked and sucked on your clit, sending you further into oblivion.

The orgasm hit you suddenly, so hard you thought you were actually blacking out for a moment.

Death by orgasm, that would’ve been a good headline.

You were so dazed you didn’t even realize Spencer had stood up until you felt his body pressed against your back. “If you think I’m done with you, you’re mistaken baby.”

“Do whatever you want with me.” And you meant every single word.

He chuckled and you heard him fumbling with his belt, your insides literally twisting in anticipation. With one slow thrust he penetrated you from behind and—not giving you time to getting used to him or even recover from your orgasm—started to fuck you like his life depended on it.

You tried to keep your moans under control, biting your lip, but it was so hard—especially when his dick hit and stretched out every inch of your pussy.

“You’re so tight you’re driving me crazy,” he hissed, trying to keep up with his gasps and sighs but the soft groans that escaped his lips came out on their own.

“Oh fuck—Spence…” you babbled, his hand squeezing your hips as he thrust in and out of you mercilessly. Your palms instead rested on the hard, cold wood of the desk, even though your skin was hot as lava.

“Shhh baby you don’t want them to hear us do you?” he suppressed another moan. “Can you be quiet for me, yeah?”

“I’m trying—fuck… You feel so good inside me Spence,” you sighed, your head spinning in pleasure. Spencer slid his hands down your back, under your shirt before leaning over you and cupping your breasts. He touched them, took your nipples between thumb and forefinger and pinched them, while his dick continued to slide in and out of your pussy with a brutal, unrestrained rhythm that almost made you faint. “Yes baby fuck my pussy like that oh my god…”

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath and he had to concentrate not to come right there and then.

You turned your head to the side and in that same instant he grabbed your face with one hand and kissed you, sliding his tongue into your mouth and sucking the life out of you. It was a voracious, passionate, messy kiss, only interrupted by your moans and sighs mixing together.

“I’ve been waiting for this since I saw you this morning,” you sighed in between the moan, your lips brushing his, “you have no idea—holy shit… yeah just like that oh my god…” you trailed off when Spencer gave a particularly deep thrust that almost knocked the wind out of you.

“Look at you, my pretty little slut,” he moaned in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I can’t get enough of you.. So perfect you make me lose my mind.”

He kissed you again—or at least he tried to given your constant moans. He slid the hand that was on your face into your hair, twisting it into a fist and pulling until your head fell back. That alone made your walls clench around him until he let out a peculiarly loud moan.

“Shit— baby, if you do that again I’m going to come right now,” he sighed as his other hand ended up around your throat, squeezing not enough to knock out your air but enough to make your head spin.

It was too much, too intense. The pleasure was so overwhelming, you genuinely thought you might pass out. The way he fucked you, God, how could someone who seemed so gentle have this much control over your body? How did he know you so intimately—every sensitive inch, every spot to touch, every filthy word to whisper—he could push you to the edge and pull you under, making you come until you were trembling and spent?

You felt another orgasm building inside you and at this point you were a complete mess, moaning so much Spencer had to cover yogurt mouth with the hand that was previously your throat. “You know I’m jealous right? You know how crazy I get just at the thought of someone hearing what only I can do to you? So shut up.”

These words were your downfall and you exploded in an orgasm that blinded you for a few moments, so overwhelming you lost your strength and almost fell on the desk if it hadn’t been for Spencer who was holding you up.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed and those words were so strange coming from his mouth but yet so fucking sexy. “I’m coming, ah—I’m coming yes…”

He pulled out and let his come mark your ass and a little bit your back too, before he took a moment to pull himself back together.

His eyes focused on that vision for a few seconds—his chest rising and falling as quickly as if he’d run a marathon—his mind snapping millions of pictures of your ass covered in his cum and thanking his eidetic memory.

He leaned over you again and left soft kisses on your shoulder before whispering in your ear, “Are you alive?”

You hummed a nonsensical sound in response to which he chuckled. “Come on princess, we need to get out of here before someone sees us.”

“I don’t think I can feel my legs anymore.”

Spencer helped you up and cleaned you off with some tissues. Your face was still flushed, your skin visibly hot, your hair ruffled despite your attempts to run your fingers through it to style it, but you were still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Are you listening to me?” You asked with mirth, noticing he wasn’t listening to any of your words. His arms were wrapped around your hips while your hands rested on his chest, before running them through his equally messy hair.

“What?” He muttered, seeming to finally come back to earth, “sorry I was distracted.”

“What were you thinking?”

“You. You’re breathtaking.”

You blushed and smiled, not used to compliments. “For a super genius you get so easily distracted Professor.”

“Oh absolutely,” he didn’t even try to deny, his hands caressing your back. “When it comes to you there isn’t a single brain cell working.”

“Maybe I should go then so I don’t distract you from your academic responsibilities anymore,” you murmured as you continued to stroke his hair, his eyes half closed for a moment, enjoying your touch.

“Mmh,” he hummed in agreement but showed no signs of letting you go. “Yes, you are so distracting.”

“You’re not even listening to me, maybe it’s best if we stop seeing each other.”

In response he slapped your ass, making you gasp in surprise. “We both know this will never happen so don’t ever say it again.”

You giggled, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “Then we’ll see each other around, Professor.”

He kissed you again, this time with more depth and passion. “You can count on it Miss.”

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[sh4nksslvt]

Surgeon’s Strategy

Law explains a battle plan, his hand brushing yours as he leans close, his smirk carrying a dangerously playful edge.

Law x reader | ONE SHOT tags: fluff, sfw, teasing a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe n akward word count: 1.8k masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The Polar Tang’s map room was a sanctuary of sorts, a quiet corner of the submarine where the hum of machinery faded into a distant murmur, and the world outside seemed to pause. The walls were lined with charts and maps, some pinned haphazardly, others meticulously organized, reflecting the duality of Trafalgar Law’s mind—chaotic genius wrapped in calculated precision. A single overhead lamp cast a warm, amber glow over the large wooden table at the center, strewn with papers, compasses, and a half-empty mug of coffee that smelled faintly of roasted beans. You stood there, leaning over the table, studying a map of the next island on the Heart Pirates’ route, your fingers tracing the coastline as you tried to make sense of the scribbled notes in Law’s angular handwriting.

“You’re holding it upside down,” came a low, amused voice from behind you.

You froze, glancing over your shoulder to find Law leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, his signature spotted hat tilted slightly to one side. His golden eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and something else—something that made your pulse quicken. He was dressed in his usual polo shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the inked patterns on his forearms, and his sword, Kikoku, rested against the wall nearby, a silent reminder of his ever-present vigilance.

“I am not,” you retorted, though you quickly double-checked the map, heat creeping up your neck when you realized he was right. You flipped it with a huff, avoiding his gaze. “Maybe your handwriting is just terrible.”

Law’s lips curved into a smirk as he pushed off the doorframe and sauntered toward you, his boots clicking softly against the metal floor. “My handwriting is impeccable,” he said, stopping just beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “You’re just distracted.”

“Distracted?” You raised an eyebrow, turning to face him, your hands planted on your hips. “By what, exactly?”

His smirk widened, and he leaned forward slightly, resting one hand on the table next to yours. “You tell me,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, teasing drawl. “You’ve been staring at that map for ten minutes, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t read a single word.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat as his hand brushed against yours, a fleeting touch that sent a jolt through you. It was deliberate, you were sure of it—Law never did anything by accident. His fingers lingered just long enough to make your skin tingle before he pulled back, picking up a pencil to annotate the map.

“Let’s focus,” he said, though the playful edge in his tone betrayed his attempt at seriousness. “We’re docking at this island tomorrow, and I need you to understand the plan.”

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was still racing. “Right. The plan. Go ahead, Captain, enlighten me.”

Law shot you a sidelong glance, his eyes narrowing slightly at the playful lilt in your voice. “Don’t get cheeky,” he warned, but there was no real heat in his words. He tapped the map with the pencil, pointing to a cluster of buildings marked near the island’s port. “This is the main town. Intel says there’s a Marine outpost here, small but well-guarded. We need supplies, so we’re avoiding direct confrontation.”

You leaned closer, your shoulder brushing against his as you studied the map. “So, stealth mission?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him. His face was close—too close—and you could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his eyes flicked briefly to your lips before returning to the map.

“Exactly,” he said, his voice steady despite the tension crackling between you. “You’ll be with me, scouting the market for medical supplies while the others handle food and ship repairs.”

“Me?” You blinked, surprised. “You usually take Bepo for scouting.”

Law’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “Bepo’s great, but he’s not exactly subtle. You, on the other hand…” He paused, his gaze sweeping over you, lingering just a moment too long. “You blend in. Plus, I trust you to keep up.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, though you tried to play it cool. “High praise from the Surgeon of Death,” you teased, nudging his arm lightly. “Careful, you might make me think you like me.”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that did nothing to calm your nerves. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said, but his hand brushed yours again as he reached for a marker, and this time, his fingers lingered, curling slightly around yours before he pulled away. “Pay attention.”

You tried—really, you did—but Law’s presence was distracting. He explained the layout of the town, pointing out entry points, escape routes, and potential hazards, his voice calm and authoritative. But every time his arm brushed against yours or his fingers grazed the back of your hand as he adjusted the map, your focus wavered. He was doing it on purpose, you were certain, and the smug little smirk playing at the corners of his mouth only confirmed it.

“—and if we get separated,” he was saying, “you head to this rendezvous point.” He tapped a spot on the map, then glanced at you, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not listening.”

“I’m listening!” you protested, crossing your arms. “Rendezvous point, got it.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Repeat it back to me.”

You hesitated, racking your brain for the details you’d only half-absorbed. “Uh… head to the… north side of the town square?”

Law sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Wrong. It’s the old lighthouse on the eastern cliffs.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “If you get lost, I’m not coming to find you.”

“Liar,” you shot back, grinning. “You’d tear the island apart looking for me.”

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the playful banter faded, replaced by something heavier, more intense. “Maybe,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But let’s not test that theory.”

Your breath caught, and the air between you seemed to thicken. Law was close now, his hand resting on the table just inches from yours, his body angled toward you. The map room felt smaller, the walls closing in as the tension grew. You could smell the faint scent of antiseptic and sea salt on him, a combination that was uniquely Law, and it made your head spin.

“Law,” you said, your voice quieter now, “are you trying to distract me?”

He tilted his head, his smirk returning, though there was a heat in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “If I were trying to distract you,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you’d know it.”

“Oh, really?” you challenged, stepping closer, your chest almost brushing against his. “Because it feels like you’re doing a pretty good job right now.”

His smirk faltered for a split second, replaced by a flicker of surprise, but he recovered quickly, leaning in until his face was mere inches from yours. “Careful,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Your heart was pounding now, but you refused to back down. “Maybe I like dangerous,” you whispered, your eyes locked on his.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the tension between you taut like a drawn bowstring. Then, slowly, deliberately, Law reached out, his fingers brushing along your jaw, tilting your chin up slightly. His touch was light, almost tentative, but it sent a wave of heat through you, making your breath hitch.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice rougher now, laced with something that sounded almost like affection. “You know that?”

“You’re one to talk,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re the one who keeps touching me.”

His thumb grazed your lower lip, and his eyes darkened, his smirk replaced by something more intense. “You’re not complaining,” he pointed out, his voice low and husky.

“Maybe I’m just being polite,” you teased, though your voice trembled slightly, betraying the effect he was having on you.

Law chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Polite, huh?” He leaned closer, his lips hovering just above yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. “You don’t strike me as the polite type.”

Before you could respond, a loud clang echoed from somewhere in the submarine, followed by the unmistakable sound of Penguin and Shachi arguing over who broke what. Law’s hand dropped, and he stepped back, the spell broken. His smirk returned, though there was a lingering heat in his eyes as he shook his head.

“Saved by the idiots,” he muttered, turning back to the map. “Let’s finish this before they burn the ship down.”

You let out a shaky laugh, trying to steady your racing heart. “Right. The plan.”

Law resumed explaining, his voice returning to its usual calm, authoritative tone, but the air between you remained charged. Every time his hand brushed yours or his shoulder bumped against yours, you felt it—a spark, a promise of something more. He was focused now, pointing out the finer details of the mission, but you caught the occasional glance, the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought you weren’t looking.

As he wrapped up, he leaned back against the table, crossing his arms. “Any questions?”

You shook your head, still trying to process the last few minutes. “Nope. Crystal clear.”

“Good,” he said, but he didn’t move, his eyes studying you with that same intensity that made your skin prickle. “You’re with me tomorrow, so don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t,” you promised, then added with a grin, “As long as you don’t get distracted.”

His lips twitched, and he stepped closer again, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “Keep talking like that, and we’ll see who’s distracted tomorrow.”

You laughed, pushing him lightly on the chest. “Focus, Captain. You’ve got a mission to lead.”

He caught your wrist, his grip gentle but firm, and for a moment, you thought he might pull you closer again. But instead, he released you, his smirk softening into something almost fond. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You’ll need it.”

You nodded, turning to leave, but you paused at the door, glancing back at him. “Law?”

He looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you dodging my question earlier,” you said, grinning. “You totally like me.”

His smirk returned, sharper this time. “Get out of here,” he said, but there was no hiding the amusement—or the warmth—in his eyes.

As you left the map room, your heart still racing, you couldn’t help but smile. Tomorrow’s mission was going to be interesting, and you had a feeling Law’s teasing was only the beginning.

[dilfluvrr10]

Hello can you write a smut about virgin joost x virgin reader? Thankss

I wrote this pretty quickly so ignore any errors but this one's for all the horny bastards out there. I see you.

Stolen Glances ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

CW: Nsfw, age gap

word count: 2.5k

(I was writing from 1st person than kept randomly switching to 2nd person when I was thinking of Joost's pov, she's a little messy sorry)

My thoughts ran wild as I chewed on the end of my pencil. I was supposed to be revising for my biology exam tomorrow, but how could I when a man as heart throbbing as Joost was sat right in front of me. My father was a well-established manager who had represented the biggest musicians of my time. He had reached out to Joost after his breakthrough single ‘Friesenjung’ and together they had boosted Joost’s international stardom to new levels. My father always had a good eye for talent. They had developed a close bond over the short time they had worked together, my father, a clever and creative man who never stifled Joost’s artistry. Ever since I was a little girl I’ve always been involved in his work, going on tour, tagging along for press and having a string of musicians over at our house constantly. But this was different. Maybe it was just hormones or whatever, a part of growing up, or maybe it was because father was particularly fond of him, or maybe it was the way he always acknowledged me. I don’t know what it was, but he made me feel things I’ve never felt before.

He sat directly in front of me, discussing marketing for his next song, a favourable topic for both Joost and my father. They had been at it for hours, going back and forth intently at our dining room table when I walked in- deciding I wanted to do my work in more ‘natural light’. Of course, I just wanted to be around Joost, his entire demeanour utterly intoxicating to me. I sat at the end of our long dining table, and with my father’s back turned to me, I couldn’t resist stealing glances at Joost every chance I got. In a daze, I admired the way his brows subconsciously furrowed a little in concentration, the way he talked so expressively with his hands. His hands. My mind gradually became clouded with thoughts of his hands roaming my body, what his hands would look like around my neck. I bit down harder on the pencil, almost touching lead. Discreetly, I crossed my legs and squeezed my thighs together, feining for any pressure down there.

Joost could feel your eyes swallowing him whole. It was nothing new to him now, you always had your beautiful doe eyes plastered to him. He had no problem with the admiration you gave him, he understood your young curiosity. He also understood he could never act on it, could never betray his manager like that. Touching his daughter in all the places she daydreamed about, taking a bit of her sweet innocence away all for himself. No. He’d stay out of your way, be kind to you in other ways, like helping with your school work (even though he was hopeless in his own high school days) and making sure you weren’t too stressed with exams by making you laugh whenever he could. You had been staring at him for quite a while now, you must’ve been particularly horny today, he thought to himself. A slight smirk nipping at the corners of his mouth. He leaned back in his chair and adjusted his pants around his crotch knowing you’ll catch it.

I nearly threw up as he moved in his chair, legs spread as he leaned back adjusting his pants. My eyes grew wide with embarrassment when I noticed Joost’s gaze flicker towards me, evident he knew the affect he had on me. In a panic I hurriedly ran to my room. Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of Joost realising how I felt about him, all he’d ever been to me was kind and now he’s going to think of me as some naive girl with a hopeless crush on him. I cried, regret and humiliation in every drop that soaked my pillow. How could I have been so careless with my feelings?

A light knock at my bedroom door had awoken me from my tear-fueled slumber. Vaguely disorientated, I searched around for my phone. The bright, white light illuminated the room: 9:15pm. “Shit” I wasn’t meant to sleep all day. Groggily, I got to my feet and shuffled over to the door, questioning who it might be.

Joost could tell you had been crying, your eyes red-rimmed and still slightly swollen. He hated seeing you like this, “oh, I’m sorry did I wake you?” his voice soft and concerned.

“Joost…no, no it’s fine...everything okay?” the back of my throat burned, and my voice was faintly raspy.

“You left your things on the table, I just thought I’d drop them off before I went to bed,” he handed me my textbook and laptop but lingered in the doorway as if he had something else to say.

“Are you okay? You’ve been in your room since lunch, tell me what’s going on,” Joost always carried a comforting energy, I felt like I could tell him anything. But not this.

“Oh yeah I was up late last night, got really tired I guess,” followed by a small awkward laugh. Joost stood tall in front of me, having to look up to talk to him filled me with dirty thoughts. He wore a white tank, plaid pyjama pants and his night prescription glasses. His hair scruffy, signalling he had already been in bed. I began questioning the intentions of Joost’s visit, did he really just want to return my things? This late at night? No matter how guilty I felt, I couldn’t shake the butterflies growing in my stomach at the tension between us.

He looked down at you, you were avoiding eye contact now, your leg bouncing nervously and your fingers tapping the door where you held it open. Oh how shy he made you, how vulnerable and yielding. He felt bad after what had happened today, he contemplated for hours in bed if he should make it up to you tonight or just let it be. But seeing you now made it an easy choice.

“You know, I really don’t mind” he almost whispered, tilting his head and stepping ever so slightly closer. I glanced up once again, confusion and anticipation coursing through me. “Mind what?” I asked through a clueless façade. He shook his head, slowly stepping forward until he was completely in the confines of my bedroom, closing the door gently behind him. Just me and him. “I see the way you look at me…I’ve seen the way you cross your legs in the process” a wild smile danced over his lips, that’s when I realised this was all wildly funny to him. The entire time I’ve been losing my fucking mind over this man- he had been totally and utterly aware and amused. I scoffed at his upfront words, “God, what are you talking about Joost. You’re crazy, what are you getting at-” I was abruptly cut off by Joost’s huge hands firmly placed on my arms, pushing me back towards my bed.

“Sit.” With your lips still slightly parted with the ghost of whatever bullshit you were carrying on about, you obeyed, looking down into your lap and fidgeting with your fingers. Your surge of false confidence had been his last straw. He was going to give you whatever you wanted, all you had to do was tell him. He traced a tender finger along your jawline, he glimpsed your eyelashes fluttering from his angle, felt your breath hitch. He lifted your chin with his index finger, Those gorgeous eyes shimmering wide with unspoken desire.

Already, I was going to absolutely crumble under Joost’s very minimal touch. His fingers barely grazing my skin were well enough to send shivers cascading down my spine. I was timid and taken aback but at the same time I craved more; I wanted to feel him everywhere. “What were you saying?” he flashed another one of his cheeky grins I loved so much. His sly comment made me laugh this time around, turning the tense atmosphere surprisingly warm. He sat down next to me, causing fleeting touches of our arms and thighs. I was enveloped in his familiar scent, calming my nerves further. He placed a hand on my thigh, his tattooed finger drawing delicate circles as he spoke. “Let me give you what you want” his voice was low and hummed a beautiful harmony. I’d imagined this scenario countless times ever since I first laid eyes on my Joost. He had no idea what I’d let him do to me.

“Just be gentle,” the sweet sound of your consent aroused Joost more than he ever could’ve imagined. He wrapped his other hand around the back of your neck and pulled you in inches from him. With his thumb he caressed your bottom lip, your breathing heavy and erratic against every move he made. “I wouldn’t be anything else for you” he uttered softly, his words dripping with reassurance before grabbing your face and placing a light kiss over your needy lips.

For me, this small kiss was a revelation. The taste of him, the feeling of a mans lips pressed against mine while his hands caressed my body, it was a rush of sensations I’ve never experienced before. He lightly pecked my lips once more before smashing hungrily into me, kissing and sucking. With his hands still cradling my face and his lips still glued to mine he urged me to lay down. I wrapped one arm around his neck, and one hand curled around his bicep beside my head as he ruthlessly attacked my lips a while longer.

Heavenly whimpers escaped both you and Joost, still being cautious not to wake anyone. Pulling away and seeing your lips so swollen and kiss-bitten made Joost so proud.

My body ached for him, “I can’t take much more of this” I whined as he left a trail of kisses down my neck. He lifted my shirt up over my head and continued down my stomach, his hands eagerly grabbing the sides of my waist and tits. He stopped at the edge of my pants, sat up and came to rest his back against the head of the bed. “Come here baby” he softly instructed me while patting the space in between his outstretched legs. He held me steady while I took up position, my close to bare back comfortably leaning into his chest, the difference in size apparent. His arms draped down to my thighs, his fingers never failing to caress every inch. Waves of comfort came with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he lowered his tongue to the nape of my neck, licking a long stripe up to my ear.

“Just relax,” he breathed, making the hairs on my neck stand straight. His hands ventured back to my pants, pulling them off with deliberate slowness, I lifted my hips to help and kicked them off the bed. “You’re so beautiful,” each word warm against my skin. His tantalizing hands resumed their careful journey as the cool air nipped against my newly exposed skin. I sucked in an audible breath as his fingers trailed up my inner thigh, “Is this okay?,” he said pausing just before my underwear to gauge my reaction. A weak nod was all I could muster up, I couldn’t resist slowly rocking my hips back and forth against him from the thrill of his touch. With my eyes closed tight I buried my face into Joost as the pad of his thumb brushed over the delicate fabric along my wet slit.

You squirmed into Joost ceaselessly, as he applied more and more pressure, unknowingly giving him a massage of his own through his pants. Your panties were becoming increasingly more damp, to the point where they clung to you leaving nothing to the imagination. Joost took this as a sign you were ready for more. You hadn’t opened your eyes since he started, your head was turned to the side, buried in his chest resulting in your neck being awfully exposed. A hot half moan escaped your lips in surprise as Joost’s mouth worked skillfully on your sensitive neck, his tongue flicking against your skin before he sucked ravenously, drawing out even more of those sweet, breathless sounds. At the same time he slipped his hand underneath the waistband of your underwear. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders and mouth wide open as he stroked your swollen clit and folds. You were involuntarily trembling and bucking against him as he fingered you to the edge. Every muscle inside your body was quivering aggressively. Deep tremors formed in your core and rippled outward. All composure was gone under his overwhelming touch.

My breaths came in heavy, uneven gasps. My chest rising and falling rapidly. I was completely at his mercy as his fingers worked me closer and closer. Every nerve in my body was aflame, my senses so desperately flooded by the delicious friction and heat of his touch. I was right there, teetering on the edge, ready to dive into the abyss of ecstasy he had created. Then his hands pulled away.

The abrupt halt left me gasping, my body trembling with unfulfilled need and anguish. My eyes flew open to meet his, “Joost, why would you stop?” He ignored my question and kissed me in compensation. “Not yet” was all he gave me. I kissed him open-mouthed and needy, my heart ponded in my chest, tension lingering in my aching body. With our lips still attached I wrapped a hand around the firm forearm draped around my waist and guided him back to down to the hot mess he had left me with. Desire still burning hotter than ever.

“You need me that bad baby,” his accent a seductive melody. “Please,” the desperation in my voice so evident- my cheeks burnt red. He gave no resistance to the tiny hand around his wrist, full of urgency and insistence. This time your eyes never left his, the intensity of longing clear to him. He found his hand back where you needed It most, your hips arched, silently begging for his touch. The moment his fingers made contact once again, a shudder ran through you, a suppressed moan released. “Don’t stop,” you commanded. You had a certain feralness to you the second time around, showing him exactly where and how you wanted him. Never letting go of the tightening grip around his wrist. Your body was pressed tightly into Joost’s, using him shamelessly like a toy. You needed him to finish what he had started, and you weren’t afraid to show him how much you wanted it. The reserved nature he knew you by was overcome by an insatiable desire. He pushed his tattooed fingers deep into your gushing entrance, frantically pumping in and out of you. “Fuckk,” tears spilled down your cheeks as you finally came.

Joost’s touch softened immediately, noticing you were overstimulated. You turned to your side still heightened with emotions and riding out the orgasm. With tender care Joost cradled you in his arms, running his hand through your hair, soothing you through the storm. “You’re okay.”

Nestled into the curve of his arms, you felt a soft blanket envelop you, and with a sigh of content you allowed yourself to surrender to sleep.

----------♡--------------------♡--------------------♡--------------------♡

(And he never even took any cloths off)

Also just realised I never actually stated she was a virgin

[haikyu-mp4]

April

word count; 764 – f!reader

As the school year came closer to its end, more and more people made their way to the library. Miya Atsumu was one of them, but he certainly wasn't there to study. Much to your annoyance, he and his friends decided to take up almost the whole table you had chosen for the day. Atsumu was more of a social guy and took part in raising the volume inside the library considerably. His friends occupied most of the table, and he sat on it with half an ass supporting him. They conversed loudly until Agnes came around the corner and silenced them, which is why Atsumu, unfortunately for you, decided to occupy the seat beside you instead.

"Hey, gorgeous," he whispered to you with a smile that wasn't close to his real one. You could see it was plastered and had no interest in taking up the conversation. "I'm Atsumu. What are you working on?" Atsumu was already persistent in his pursuit of getting you to talk to him.

"Don't think you would understand it anyway. I've never even seen you in here holding an actual book," you jabbed back with an uninterested sigh. However, this didn't make his smile falter; you just became even more interesting.

"So you have noticed me?" he asked. You looked up, frustrated but also mildly amused. He was annoying, that's for sure, but then why were you intrigued to keep talking?

"You're so loud! It would be impossible to ignore you. This isn't a park, Atsumu." You twirled the pencil in your hand to emphasise that this meant the library.

"I totally thought it was. Look at all these plants!" He wasn't saying it in a challenging manner, but rather like he wanted you to laugh, which you did, and a more genuine smile fell on his lips at the sound.

"Sure, Atsumu. Why don't you spike a ball across the room and see what happens." This time, he was the one laughing.

Somehow, hearing you say his name made him feel something. People say my name all the time... "Maybe I will!" His smile and raised eyebrows had you bursting with butterflies, which annoyed you to no end. "W-" His next words were interrupted by one of his friends grabbing his shoulder.

"We're getting out of here, dude. You coming?" The friend, presumably Suna Rintaro, looked at Atsumu expectantly, but he just looked at you. You had turned back to your schoolwork, so he admired your side profile.

"Nah, I think I'll stay a little longer. Text me later, though." They did a small handshake, and the whole group of noisy students left your table.

"Why don't you go with your friends?" you asked him without looking up.

"What's your name?" he answered with a different question, not even acknowledging yours.

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, you looked up with a straight face. "Y/n. Now, please, just let me work."

"I'm here to study too, y/n." Atsumu turned around and grabbed the first book he saw out of the shelf.

"You're studying Latin history?" you questioned the title of the book. Did your school even offer that? He took a moment to look at the book like it betrayed his trust before answering.

"I am now."

Thus, you and Atsumu suddenly sat in silence and read your separate books. Whether Atsumu was reading or not was questionable, and his thoughts were more related to what he should say next to keep the conversation going while he kind of had your attention.

Unfortunately, you could not focus either when he kept pushing your foot under the table. Atsumu closed his book and leaned back in his chair, not minding the sound it made even though some people turned to glare at him. You rolled your eyes instinctively, trying not to lose your word on the page in the process.

"Hey, y/n?" After a second, you looked up to meet his eyes, trying to look as annoyed as possible while lifting a hand to use your pointer finger as a temporary marker of where you were on the page. Your annoyance only made Atsumu’s closed-lip smile widen. "Wanna go out with me and some friends tonight? I kind of have to leave now, but I'm sure they wouldn't mi-" Realization struck, and you looked at the clock.

"Oh, I forgot! Shit, shit, shit."

"Whew, language! Is that a yes?" he asked jokingly.

"I have somewhere to be, sorry." Rushing out, you left Atsumu behind with a frown on his face. You could have just said no...

The Schoolyear Series ║ masterlist

[laviefantasie]

[ Starry Eyed Barbie ]

Pairings: Highschool Senior Student! Gojo Satoru x Highschool Senior Student! Reader

Summary: When you are head over heels for Gojo since middle school, he can’t understand why it suddenly bothers him when you start to avoid him.

| Masterlist |

Gojo Satoru had given up a long time ago trying to figure you out.

He rolls his eyes as he feels you squeeze his arm before letting go, as if warning him you’d do so, and raising your hand. The professor gives you the right to answer whatever it is that he asked, making you smile brightly with glimmering eyes as you thrive in the attention given. Staring at the clock he debates whether sleeping is possible, knowing you it was; you had always been a teacher’s pet, tending to ask as many questions as possible before hurrying to discuss every little thought on your pretty head with your teacher.

Maybe he had once thought it was adorable, but then you had started clinging to him and his thoughts had changed.

Sighing, Satoru gives an exasperated look to Suguro before spreading his thighs to lean more in his chair. You haven’t stopped talking. He drums a finger on his desk before glancing at you. You look ecstatic, starry bright eyes shining as you hear every word the teacher is saying. You probably have no idea that you are making the whole class sleepy.

It was annoying. Such a know-it-all.

You nod and smile brightly before thanking your teacher, smoothing your pink leather pencil skirt before sitting back down besides him, making sure to wrap your arm around his again, giggling and blushing as you do so.

“Toru, how does going for some boba later sounds? I heard this new place opened close and I thought you’d probably lo—”

“Can't”

There’s bite in his answer, also a hint of annoyance, but that’s not his problem. You’re not his girlfriend, not even his something, so he sees no need in playing along to your little game.

Your sweet smile remains but the bright light in your eyes dims slightly, before coming back brighter than ever.

"Then, we go tomorrow”

"Oh, look at that! We have a presentation soon” he says, nodding to the teacher.

He was just trying to get you off of him, but it was a cheap trick, especially with how much of a nerd you actually were.

You giggle softly, “No, silly! He was just talking about the Laws of Thermodynamics. You’re not listening again, have you even written any notes?”

Why would he when you never fail to send him your rainbow-colored ones?

He sighs, leaning his face on his hand. He was too tired to deal with you for longer than needed and the day had barely started.

The bell rings and he waits not even a second in getting out of his seat, not caring about the gasp that escapes your lips or the hurriedly way you try to grab your things as you ask him to wait for you.

Suguru analyzes the situation before shaking his head in disappointment once Satoru reaches him. So, instead of letting Satoru keep walking, his hand grabs his backpack string making him halt. Groaning as your arm latches onto his, he realizes his best friend betrayed him by giving you the time you needed to catch up.

Geto deliberately ignores the glare Gojo sends his ways, as you hum contentedly at his side.

You all make it to lunch where Shoko waits for you since you don’t share that class together. Utahime and Mei Mei are at her sides, as well as Nanami and Haibara.

They all smile at you as you invite yourself over to sit at his side.

With an excited smile you get out your pink bento box and matching water bottle. He frowns as he feels you get even closer to him.

“Hey girls! Guys!”, you smile brightly at all of them.

Satoru rolls his eyes at your perkiness, taking a sip of his strawberry Ramune drink. You pout in an adorable before taking it away from him, ignoring the ice cold look he gives you and the silence that surrounds you now.

“Don’t give me that look, this has too much sugar!” his glare deepens making my your shoulders drop, “Look… it’s bad for your health. You drink so many of them, even though you eat a thousand of sweets a day!”

He scoffs making you slightly panic. Playing with your fingers as you feel yourself become anxious; you turn to your bag looking for the Digimon bento box you made for him and the matching bottle.

“Here” you smile brightly “Made you some homemade food… and sweets” you slide the bento towards him, “Some Daifuku… also made you a strawberry and blueberry smoothie…”

He hates that his hands reach to grab both things and how his eyes brighten once he sees the strawberry and chocolate flavored Daifuku you made.

“Oh!” You gasp, looking through your bag until you get another pink container out “I also brought some chocolate chip cookies and strawberries for everyone!”

Haibara cheers while Utahime and Nanami thank you kindly; Shoko and Geto smile at you as a thanks, while Mei Mei settles for winking flirtatiously in your direction.

Satoru, on the other hand, eats the sweets you made him quietly.

“Is it good?”, you ask him eagerly, eyes all bright as your hands fiddle with your hair nervously.

It’s not the first time you bring him food or sweets for the matter, so he doesn’t understand the need to ask his opinion every single time.

He settles with shrugging with indifference.

Suguru hits the back of his head from beside him making him groan, nevertheless he ignores the pointed look he gives him. He’s not in the mood to play your little game.

Instead of deflating as everyone around you expected, you smile softly before grabbing a tissue and softly cleaning his mouth with it, getting rid of the white powder.

You don’t expect the way he smacks your hand out of the way, as he had never once done something like that.

“YOU FUCKI—”

Your hand reaches for Utahime’s as she stands to defend you, smiling sweetly at her to tell her it’s okay.

Satoru frowns slightly as he realizes what he did. He had never done something physical against you, did this mean he was reaching his limit?

Shoko clears her throat, “You guys heard about Sukuna’s party?”

Mei Mei smirks, “Obviously. Heard there’s gonna be good booze. All in?”

“But…” you tilt your head, “Isn’t it today? It’s Thursday” 

Mei Mei smiles sweetly at you, loving your naivety. You eye each of them only to see all of them not really caring about partying on a school night.

Was this what being a senior meant?

“I don’t know, there are a few assignments I have to work on and midterms are happening soon” you hire your lip, turning to Satoru “Are you going?”

He shrugs, “Sukuna’s booze is good, why not?”

You scoff slightly before turning to Nanami, “Are you going too, Kenti?”

The blond teenager sighs, “Lost a bet to Haibara, so yes, sadly”

“How could you not go? Yuri is here representing her school, she’s gonna see us there!” Haibara exclaims with excitement.

You see them all smile at the reminder making you shift uncomfortably in your place. Hinata Yuri was a childhood friend of them. She wasUtahime’s closest friend. They all were inseparable, yo had known that since you had met them during your last year in middle school. Sadly, Yuri had gone to high school in her mother’s district since her parents divorced.

They all had history. One which you weren’t part of.

Playing with your food you consider attending, it felt kind of intrusive considering it was a reunion, but you missed Yuri too.

Satoru knocks your thigh with his, “Pick you up at eight”

You smile brightly, nodding in agreement. Any hesitance in going disappearing as soon as he touched you.

You were so excited, humming to yourself as you ate, that you didn’t notice Utahime’s worried gaze on you nor the way she glared ferociously at Satoru.

Eight rolled around rather quickly and you found yourself sat on Satoru’s black Acura Integra, rich boy privilege. He buckled you in as you were too busy fixing the skirt of your Bellini Bustier pink mini dress that you had paired with a white cardigan.

You start fixing the pink bow that ties your half updo as you thank him, almost choking on your own saliva as you see him.

He looks god made.

His black shirt was illegally stretched across his chest, his pecs shamefully bulging out, his arms immorally straining on the sleeves of his shirt. His grey pants fit perfectly against his muscular thighs and—

Flustered, you look away. It was too much, he was too much.

You play with your hair and nervously move your ballerina flats around during the drive. Trying to hide the way your face became red with each glance you stole.

The party was already at full swing when you both arrived, the blasting music and the many swaying underage teenagers making it a given. The two floored house had its windows flashing in neon lights. The outside was pretty empty, aside from the cars haphazardly parked by irresponsible teenagers and some of those said irresponsible teenagers puking in the bushes.

You scurry next to Satoru the moment you get out of the car, groaning as you try to keep up with his long strides.

He opens the door and heads inside, not noticing the way his strength makes the door close in your face. You push the door for yourself as fast as you can, ignoring the pain in your nose, afraid to lose him in the crowd. Thankfully you manage to grab his arm in time.

He leads you inside and you struggled to avoid being pushed around by sweaty party animals. Maybe you should’ve worn heels instead of flats, maybe then you wouldn’t feel so small.

Finally, you find yourself sitting with the whole group in the terrace. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, you let your shoulder drops in relief.

“You okay, doll?” Yuri smiles kindly at you, hugging you tightly before offering you one of the drinks in her hands.

“Oh! I’m so happy to see you!”, you exclaim, giggling before letting go, “I’m fine. What’s this?”

“Well… if you keep being the innocent cutie you’ve always been, it’s just fruit punch” she smiles brightly with mischief, “Unless you grew some thorns, little rose, and want something to spike it up?”

You laugh while shaking your head, taking a sip after doing so. Yuri had always been kind to you, and seeing her reminded you to the many time she’d make sure you felt at home in the group.

Sadly, you also remember how close Satoru and her used to be once you see him give her a hug and how flustered she becomes.

Oh.

You take another sip of your drink as you try to remind yourself they were just friends. Really close friends. Begging yourself to forget the way Satoru used to have his attention on her every second of the day during middle school, even when you were always there.

No, you were going to have fun and catch up with your friend.

And you did. You weee truly enjoying chatting with everyone and hearing Yuri’s stories. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place when the childhood memories started to surface. You weren’t friends with them during your youth, you had officially joined them at the end of middle school.

You hugged yourself as you listened to them laugh as they recall their shenanigans. It was honestly sweet to watch, yet you couldn’t help to feel slightly bitter. You shake your head to get rid of those feelings.

Sighing, you look at your empty cup. Maybe you should get another drink.

You stare at how crowded the inside of the house is before grabbing Satoru’s sleeve, wanting him to go with you.

“Toru, I need a refill”

He shrugs your arm off, “Then, get a refill”

“Will you come with me?”  

Satoru’s jaw tightens, glancing at Shoko and Geto before harshly turning to you and whispering, “Could you not be annoying for just one second? I’m not your damn babysitter”

Your hand that had been trying to reach for him once again halts, frozen midways before falling to your thigh. You look away as you feel your eyes sting and your nose itch, you were about to cry.

“Fine”, you whisper, head hanging low as you stand up

Satoru resumes his conversation with Yuri, Geto and Shoko. You frown as you see the way he smiles at Yuri, biting your lip as you feel the way your chest clenches.

You turn around, prohibiting yourself from crying in front of them. Satoru already thought you were annoying, you weren’t gonna give him more reasons to think so. You had always known you went to far in the ways you showed your affection, but you just couldn’t help it.

You sigh as you brush the tears that had fallen down your cheeks, slipping your way downstairs.

The party was even more alive than when you had arrived. You see Sukuna in the kitchen drinking a line of shots against Choso, which makes you frown in pity. Silently, you look for a bottle of water before heading out.

You were knocked around as you went, but thankfully you soon managed to get out of the suffocating atmosphere.  

The night breeze softly kisses your skin making you shiver, yet you smiled softly as you take a deep breath. You stare at the starry night, loving the way the stars shine brightly against the darkness that surrounds them.

Sighing, you let yourself sit on the stairs of the porch, taking a drink of your water as you keep on staring at the night sky. Your chest ached.

“Party became too much for you?”

You gasp, startled.

Smiling slightly at your reaction, Nanami sits beside you, “Sorry if I startled you”

“Uh… it’s okay” you stutter, “I’m good, just… wanted to cool down. I was planning to go back”

“Sure about that?” He asks knowingly, making your shoulder drop, “It’s a nice night”

You smile, hugging yourself, “It is”

“You like the stars?”

You nod, “Used to watch them with my dad when I was young. That one…” you point at the brightest one, “is called Sirius, like the character from the Harry Potter books. It’s part of the Canis Major constellation, its name means glowing”

“You seem to know a lot. It’s impressive” he nods softly, “What other stars make up Canis Major?”

“Muliphein, Mirzam, Wezen, Aludra, Adhara and Furud” you point at each one as you named them, “it’s special because it has many bright stars, as well as Sirius, the brightest”

“Wow”

Your smile falters as you hear something break inside, reminding you where you are. Nanami notices making him sigh before pushing himself to stand up.

“How do you feel about going for a drive?”

You look at the water bottle in your hands, tightening your grip on it before standing up with determination.

“I think that sounds like a great idea”

He offers a hand and you take it. His Range Rover comes to view and he hurries to open the door for you. You halt in surprise before smiling softly.

“What?”, he raises a brow.

You shake your head, giggling softly, “Nothings. It’s just, you’re really a gentleman”

“This is the bare minimum”, he states, “You shouldn’t expect less”

Your smile falters, but he doesn’t mention it.

Nanami drove around while you told him every little fact about the stars that came to mind. His interest in it as he asked questions made you get more excited with time, making you rambled nonstop.

You were really having fun.

It was on the way back to the party that you realized that if you went back your mood would turn sour, so you kindle asked him to drive you back home if it wasn’t too much trouble. He kindly agreed.

You smiled at Nanami once you got out his car, “Thank you, Kento, really. I had fun”

“I had fun too, Y/N. Thanks for the Star facts”

He waited until you got inside your house before leaving, making you smile softly to yourself feeling your heart warm because of his sweet nature.

You take off your shoes and quietly go to your room, taking off your clothes before going to your private bathroom and jumping in the shower to quickly clean yourself. Once you are dressed in your silk pink pajamas, you grab your phone from your purse and connect it to the charger.

Turning around to lay down, you halt as you hear your phone ring to announce a text.

Toru <3: Where are you?

Y/N: Home.

Toru <3: What?

Toru <3: Who drove you?

Toru <3: You should’ve told me if you wanted to leave.

Y/N: Didn’t wanna annoy you.

Toru <3: You can’t leave without saying something.

Toru <3: You have to let me know.

You frown. You dont know if it was the emotional or the physical exhaustion, but you found yourself punching letter by letter of the message, not second guessing before sending it.

You don’t even bother checking if he texts back, locking your phone before throwing yourself on your bed.

Y/N: You’re not my boyfriend, I don’t have to do anything.

Satoru frowns as he stares at the text you just sent him, writing and deleting as he tries to decide what to text back. But end up with his mind totally blank.

You were right. He wasn’t your boyfriend, you didn’t have to tell him if you wanted to leave or give him an explanation for the matter.

So, why was he feeling so… weird?

He scoffs. He didn’t need to dwell on it too much c tomorrow everything would go back to the way things were.

Except they didn’t. You weren’t in his usual parking space when he arrived. He frowned, looking around, before shrugging. You must have fallen asleep, you weren’t used to going out on weekdays after all.

He nods at Geto and Shoko once he gets to his first period, letting himself fall in between them.

“Where’s Y/N?” Shoko asks, looking at the door expecting your smiling face.

“Late” he shrugs.

Nanami and Haibara join them as soon as the words leave Satoru’s lips, making a small smile grow on Nanami’s face.

“Sure about that?”

Satoru frowns, but it is Geto who asks, “What you mean?”

Nanami shrugs, serious face back on as he starts getting his books out.

But Satoru didn’t appreciate his secrecy. He had been kept in the dark by you last night, he wasn’t in the mood for that anymore.

And then it clicked.

“You were the one who drove her home, am I wrong?” Gojo asks Nanami, almost accusingly.

Nanami raises a brow, “And if I did?”

Satoru rolled his eyes but he stayed quiet.

Shoko and Geto share a look before glancing at Gojo. But Satoru had never been easy to read, always nonchalant and charismatic, never wavering. So it was a shock when they both realize the way his jaw tighten slightly before letting go.

Interesting, they thought.

You had been nowhere to be found by lunch, but Nanami had appeared with your usual pink container full with treats, smirking as he stared you sent them.

Suguru and Shoko had been eyeing Satoru warily as he seemed a second away from snapping with each second that passed. He kept bouncing his leg, without pausing, and clenching and unclenching his hand and jaw.

Everyone at the table remained silent as Haibara’s old words of reassurance of you probably being sick were squashed by Nanami’s appearance.

“Why isn’t Y/N here?” Shoko decides to ask.

Nanami grabs one of the brownies you made them this time, “She said she was gonna eat with the girls in her baking club. Was waiting near my locker with the treats”

Satoru’s hand clenches tightly. You had look for Nanami, but hadn’t even bothered to text him?

He hated this.

He hated more not knowing exactly why he hated it so much.

He saw you in Chemistry, but you didn’t cling to him as you used to. You only smiled at him from your sit beside his before burying yourself in your book. Asking questions and sneering them as usual. Taking colorful notes as usual.

But, not even glancing at him as usual.

What was going on?

He took a deep breath. It was Friday, he wouldn’t even remember this bitter taste during the weekend, which would make him go back to normal by the start of next week.

It’d be fine.

Except that by next Wednesday, he couldn’t handle it anymore. He had spent the whole weekend staring at his phone waiting for one of your texts reminding him to eat well or one scolding him to do his school work; he’d even accept one of your random visits to bring him a sweet you’d bake.

And it had already been three days since the week started and you kept ignoring him. Even when you decided to have lunch with them, you sat beside Utahime now.

His personalized Digimon bento box made by you had disappeared and only the container with sweets for everyone remained.

It was… upsetting.

He felt his chest ache and a sting in his eyes the more he thought about it. What had happened? What was going on with him? Why couldn’t he stop shaking his leg? Why did he kept glancing at the door for pastel colors when Nanami had told them you weren’t eating with them today.

“Satoru”, Geto calls him softly, “You okay?”

No. He wasn’t okay.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Shoko and Geto share a look, before the brunette sighs in defeat, “Hey, Nanami”

The blond one stops conversing with Haibara to listen to her.

“Did you see Y/N today?”

Nanami frowns, “Yeah… she said she wasn’t coming to lunch”

Shoko rolls her eyes before pointedly nodding towards Satoru’s lost gaze in his food and relentless fidgeting.

Nanami sighs, “She mentioned how she wanted to try the new vintage Library-Café near campus for lunch”

His legs stops moving, his jaw and hands unclench just as his foot shifts. Yet Satoru remains sitting.

Geto smiles faintly, before rising from his place nonchalantly, “I gotta go review for Calculus, midterms are soon after all”

Haibara’s eyes widen, “Oh, crap! I don’t understand a thing”

Nanami sighs, standing up as well, “Then, we’ll be joining you, Geto”

Suguro nods before guiding both boys out of the cafeteria with him.

“I need a smoke break”, Shoko whispers before leaving.

Utahime crosses her arms in defiance, understanding what all her other friends were doing but refusing to participate in it.

Mei Mei, though, was finding the situation really amusing.

“Let’s go shopping, ‘Hime”

“HUH?!”

Utahime is dragged by Mei Mei as she relentlessly voices how they can’t go shopping when they still have classes.

Satoru wasn’t stupid. He knew what they were doing, but he couldn’t find it in himself to truly care. Not when his body basically jump out of his seat as soon as Mei Mei and Utahime disappeared from view. Feeling ridiculous as he ran outside.

You thanks the waitress as she leaves the tray on your table. You smiled contently at the view. A Matcha Frappuccino, a blueberry cheesecake, and the new book you had just bought.

It was truly a sight for sore eyes.

You grabbed the fork quickly before taking a piece out of your cheesecake, hurrying to try it.

You moan in pleasure at the flavor, closing your eyes as you do so. You definitely needed to try to bake this one, it was true perfection. Not too bitter, but not too sweet, just right on the spot.

“That good?”

You squeaked in surprise, which Satoru found extremely endearing.

Grabbing the tissue and cleaning your mouth, you frown as your eyes meet his celestial blue ones.

“What are you doing here?”  

“Am I not allowed to come here?”  

You shake your head and scoff before lowering your gaze to your hands, playing with the rings on your fingers.

He never accepted to try any of these spots with you, so why would he come to them?

“You hate places like this” you mutter, “You never seemed to stop reminding me how dull they are, nor how annoying it is to have to sit in a place as you try not to bother others”

“Never said any of those things” he squints his eyes as if trying to remember, “Doesn’t ring a bell”

“I doubt you came for the books, who why are you here, Satoru?”

That stings.

And maybe is that pain that makes him sit right in front of you with the most sincere look in his face you’d ever seen.

“Not for the books, you’re right”, he taps his finger nervously on the table, “I actually came for the starry eyed Barbie”

You stare at him, dumbfounded, feeling your face slowly heat up before shaking your head.

“Why would you come for someone that’s always annoying you?”

He flinches at the reminder of his last words to you, “I… I didn’t meant that”

You scoff, “Yeah, right. I’m not blind, I know I annoy you. Which is why I don’t understand why when I finally leave you along, you decide to bother me”

His gaze moves to his fingers.

Silence.

Your appetite is now gone, so you grab your book and your bag before standing up. You give one step before being stopped by his hand on your wrist.

“I-i’m s-sorry” he softly stated, head lowered, “I didn’t mean it. I really I’m s-sorry, I just—I’m an idiot. I didn’t know what it was like—how it’d feel—I hate it… please, just—I’m sorry…”

You hug him, hating how his breathing grows in speed and how he starts to stutter as he tries to explain everything.

It wasn’t perfect, things weren’t just magically okay, but it was the right track.

That’s how next week on Wednesday during lunch, when raising their heads to say hi as they heard Satoru’s loud voice saluting them, Shoko and Geto freeze midway, before smiling, at the sight.

Because fire the first time ever, instead of them seeing you clinging onto Satoru’s arm desperately, he had it wrapped around your waist lovingly.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 10

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Author Note: So... I wrote the story outline until the ending. I didn't expect the story to turn dark. Prepare yourself.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

Bucky awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words. “Well, my mom is quite… eccentric.”

Even her own son admitted that Lydia was quite eccentric. She certainly acted like a woman from a wealthy family. She had also caused quite an uproar in town when people saw the wedding invitation that stated her husband would take her last name instead of the other way around.

In a small town, that decision was unique and controversial. Many husbands had their opinions, but no one dared to say it directly to Lydia. Everyone was somewhat afraid of her.

There was a rumor that the marriage wouldn't last long because it was one-sided love. But it's an old rumor.

“If her stares could kill, I’d be dead by now. I don't know what I did to make her hate me,” you muttered.

Bucky hesitated before speaking. “It's…”

“You know the reason?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

He walked closer to you, making you step back a bit. “If we become besties, I’ll tell you.”

'Best friends with you? Hell no!' You gave him a fake smile. “No, thank you.” Then you turned and left, determined to keep your distance from him.

“I knew you’d say that.” He pointed at you while chuckling. Then he whispered, “But why does it still hurt?”

🎨

While you were shopping at the grocery store, minding your own business in the sauce section, you heard a familiar voice, “I'm sorry.”

You pushed your shopping cart and saw a man kneeling down, picking up cans of beer from the ground. It looked like he had knocked over a beer display. From his hair and the pencil behind his ear, it was easy to figure out that it was Steve.

He looked as awkward as he had back in high school. Nobody helped him. You could have chosen to ignore him, but damn, your heart was getting soft.

Steve quickly picked up the beers, sensing someone was beside him. He assumed it was a store employee. “Sorry, I made more work for you.”

“You need to pay for all of this beer,” you said.

Steve realized it was you and looked up, surprised. “Could you pay it for me? I don’t have the money,” he said jokingly.

You rolled your eyes and picked up the last can of beer, fixing the display.

“Phew… I couldn’t have done it without you,” Steve said, relieved.

“Hmm,” you replied. Then you noticed the amount of beer in his shopping cart. “Having a house party?”

He looked back at his shopping cart. “Nah, just for me.”

“All of that…?” you murmured. Then you looked at his face. He tried to smile, but he looked sad, like you could see a dark cloud and rain pouring over him.

Steve sighed. “Hey, do you have some spare time?”

“Sure,” you replied.

Both of you finished shopping and then found a nearby café, settling into a quiet corner. Steve fidgeted with his phone, avoiding eye contact.

“The art school already replied,” he said, his voice tinged with disappointment. “They told me my portfolio doesn’t fit their criteria.” He looked dejected, his shoulders slumping as he spoke.

“Let me see the portfolio,” you said, reaching out your hand.

Steve hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone and showing you the pictures of his artwork. You took the phone, studying each piece carefully. As you scrolled through his work, you noticed the intricate details and the passion evident in every stroke.

Steve watched your face anxiously, trying to read your expression. His hands fidgeted on the table, betraying his nervousness.

“This is impressive,” you said, looking up at him with genuine admiration. “Coming from someone who frequently visits modern art museums, I can tell you these pieces are outstanding.”

Steve’s eyes lit up slightly, a flicker of hope returning. “Really? You think so?”

“That art school must be insane to reject this kind of art,” you affirmed.

You picked up your phone and called an art gallery owner who was one of your clients. After a brief conversation, the owner expressed interest in Steve’s work and wanted to meet him.

Steve looked astonished. “That was quick.”

“When you have status and connections, you can achieve a lot,” you said, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“Noted. Thanks,” Steve replied, his gratitude evident.

“In just a brief meeting, you’ve changed my life. You’re more thoughtful than anyone else I’ve ever met,” Steve said, his voice sincere.

You gave a small nod, internally wondering why you had helped him. Was it an act of charity?

Not really. Perhaps deep down, you felt that Steve reminded you of your old self. If you had never met Ransom, who opened your mind, you wouldn’t have known the real world outside of this town.

You weren’t close with Steve, but you had some similarities with him. Both of you were raised by single fathers. However, the difference was Steve’s father loved him, while your father, Tom, was an absent father.

Steve’s father loved him too much, not wanting to be separated from him. Mr. Rogers became paranoid after his wife died.

To summarize, Steve lived pretty much in a cage.

“It’s not free, though. I’ll charge you later after you sell your artwork,” you said, half-smiling.

Steve smirked. “I agree.”

🏎️

A few days later, on the weekend, you decided to drive around and find an automobile repair shop. The air conditioning in your dad's car wasn't working, and although Tom didn't seem bothered by it, you were. So, you took it upon yourself to get it fixed.

After driving around town, you finally found a repair shop. You got out of the car and went to the front desk, where a woman appeared to be engrossed in her phone and clearly bothered by the presence of a customer.

You knocked on the table to get her attention.

“I need to change the air filter for my air con,” you said.

“Wait in line,” she replied without looking up.

You looked around and saw there was no one else there. Was this really how they treated their customers?

You sighed inwardly. “Just give me the air con filter.”

Her eyes remained locked on her phone as she reached out and grabbed a box, handing it to you.

You clicked your tongue and handed her the money. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

Just as you were about to leave, the back door opened, and someone tall and imposing walked in. Instantly, your instincts kicked in, making you feel on guard.

Unexpectedly, you came face to face with one of Bucky's group, the biggest of them all. Thor. Like his namesake, he stood tall like a Greek god.

The cashier, who had previously ignored you, quickly brushed her hair and looked at Thor with puppy eyes.

Thor didn't even glance at her; his attention was on you. “No kidding. You’re back,” he said.

You gave a small nod. Back then, both of you were not friends. Thor was the loudest to laugh when you were made fun of. Standing tall like a tower, he was always the first to tell Bucky and their group when you were near.

He was known around town as a future NASCAR driver. Although you weren’t interested in car racing, a small part of you was curious whether Thor had made it to NASCAR or not. Maybe you’d ask Steve later.

“Something wrong with your old man’s car?” Thor asked with a smile.

You showed him the box you bought. “Just needed some spares.”

Thor stepped closer, his presence looming. “Need any help with that?”

You hesitated, feeling the awkward tension in the air. “I think I can manage.”

He chuckled, an awkward sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You always were stubborn.”

You gave a tight-lipped smile. “And you were always…persistent.”

The cashier was still eyeing Thor, trying to catch his attention, but he seemed oblivious to her attempts. The silence grew uncomfortable, the memories of high school taunts and laughs hanging between you.

“Well, if you change your mind,” Thor said, gesturing to the repair bay, “I’m around.”

You nodded, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you walked back to the car, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of discomfort and nostalgia. Thor’s presence brought back memories you’d rather forget, but it also reminded you of how far you’d come.

You got into the car, placed the filter on the passenger seat, and drove off, the encounter replaying in your mind. Some things never change, but you have. And that was enough.

🚗

You drove home quickly, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you pulled into the driveway. Finally safe at home, you were drenched in sweat from the broken air conditioning. “Shit. This damn air-con,” you muttered, frustrated. Why hadn’t your dad used the money you sent to buy a new car?

Determined to fix it yourself, you looked up a YouTube tutorial on how to change the air filter in a car. Despite the step-by-step guide, you were still confused, struggling to follow along.

You heard a familiar voice behind you as you fumbled with the instructions. “What 'cha doing?”

You didn’t have to look to know who it was. “Changing the air filter,” you replied, exasperated.

He heard the voice from the YouTube video. “Do you know how to do it?” Bucky asked.

“...No,” you admitted reluctantly.

“Let me help you. It’s really easy,” he said confidently.

“If you say so,” you sighed, stepping aside to let him work.

Bucky changed the air filter quickly and efficiently, his movements smooth and practiced.

"So, you went to Thor's shop?" Bucky asked while fixing it.

"How did you know?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. You also found out that shop belongs to Thor.

"From the filter box," Bucky said with a grin. "Nah… just kidding. He called me."

"Yeah, I went there," you admitted.

"Did he make you uncomfortable?" Bucky's tone grew more serious.

"The same as our first meeting," you said bluntly, not sugarcoating your words.

"Ouch," Bucky said, pretending to be hurt, clutching his chest dramatically.

"Well… it's done," he said, stepping back and wiping his hands.

You looked at the air filter, noting how easily Bucky had changed it. He was right—it was simple once you knew what to do. You turned on the car and felt the welcome rush of cold air. It was a relief after driving around in the heat.

"Thanks," you said, genuinely appreciative.

"That's what friends are for," Bucky replied with a teasing smile.

Giving him a fake smile, you shook your head, your expression firm. "We. Will. Never. Be. Friends."

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, a hint of a smile still playing on his lips. "We'll see about that," he said, walking away to help your father like usual.

You watched him go, shaking your head in disbelief. What made him think you would ever want to be friends after everything that had happened?

Author Note: I imagine this is the fake smile she gives Bucky whenever she talks to him. 😂

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[amalythea]

HIII ITS ME AGAIN MWAUAHHAHAHA

kaeya with prompts “stop moving, i'm almost done!” + “don't smile at me like that!”? maybe we're doing his makeup or something I'm a sucker for that

do your best to make me hate him too pls (I have faith that you will succeed, as always)

「 make-up 」

⤷ info: kaeya x gn!reader || fluff || wc: 450

⤷ warnings: kaeya teases reader, who is sitting on his lap

⤷ extra: HI HI IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG

“Stop moving, I’m almost done!” you huffed, the eyeliner pencil in your hand trembling slightly as Kaeya shifted beneath you.

He rested one arm lazily on the back of the chair, the other settling comfortably on your waist. His signature smirk tugged at his lips, and the glint in his eye betrayed his mischief. “I can’t help it when you’re sitting on my lap, darling. It’s hard to focus on anything else.”

You gave him a pointed look, leaning in closer to steady your hand. “Kaeya, if you don’t stay still, this will end in disaster, and I’m not fixing it.”

“Disaster?” he echoed, feigning offense. “You wound me. I trust your skills implicitly.”

Your sigh was sharp but fond, the warmth of his breath brushing your neck making it harder to concentrate. You steadied the pencil once more, your knees bracketing his hips as you tried to ignore the soft chuckle rumbling in his chest.

That chuckle turned into a full laugh when he caught sight of your determined expression. He grinned up at you, his single visible eye full of mirth.

And then, he smiled. That slow, lazy smile—the one that made your pulse quicken and your thoughts stutter.

“Don’t smile at me like that!” you snapped, your voice catching slightly as you pulled back to glare at him.

“Like what?” he asked, tilting his head, the very picture of innocence. Except for the hand on your waist, which tightened ever so slightly, pulling you an inch closer.

“Like you’re up to something,” you muttered, your cheeks warming. “And stop moving. I mean it this time.”

Kaeya sighed dramatically, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Fine, fine. I’m at your mercy.” He glanced up at you through his lashes. “Though, I must say, you look cute when you’re flustered.”

“Kaeya!”

He laughed again, the deep, velvety sound reverberating through you. But, to your surprise, he actually stayed still this time, letting you finish your work without further interruptions.

When you leaned back to inspect your handiwork, Kaeya shifted to catch a glimpse in the mirror. “Impressive,” he mused, dragging a finger along the edge of the eyeliner. “But do I look this good because of you, or do I naturally radiate charm?”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “You’re lucky I like you.”

He grinned, his hands sliding to your waist as he held you firmly in place. “Lucky, am I? No, my dear, I’d say I’m blessed.”

Before you could protest, he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The smirk that followed was insufferable, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind—not when it was Kaeya.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[satori-runa]

—Love is only an hypothesis

Prologue: Only an hour per day

Summary: Viktor gets visited by an psychology student with an daring proposal he tries to ignore.

Masterlist | Next

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Viktor was the embodiment of ambition—a man who would go to any length to achieve his goals, driven by an insatiable thirst for progress. Heimerdinger never failed to sing his praises, extolling his assistant as if he were a saint. The professor spoke of Viktor as a beacon of inspiration, an example for aspiring students, including you, to emulate. A simple man from Zaun, rising to become one of Piltover’s brightest minds—it was a tale Heimerdinger seemed determined to hammer into anyone who would listen.

Perhaps it was this very brilliance that made Viktor the perfect target for you.

The scientist froze as the air shifted around him, a prickle at the nape of his neck alerting him to your sudden presence. He hadn’t heard the door creak open, nor the sound of your footsteps, nor even the measured tone with which you called his name. Yet, the moment you entered the room, Viktor felt you— an sudden intruder that smashed his focus in pieces.

“Mister Viktor.” Your voice was smooth, polite, the faintest smile tugging at your lips as you clutched a stack of papers and folders tightly to your chest. The gesture seemed innocent enough, but Viktor’s sharp gaze caught the hunger behind your façade. It wasn’t interest that filled your eyes—it was greed. He didn’t miss the subtle cues your body betrayed, the ones that screamed louder than words ever could. The way your knuckles turned white as you clutched the papers against your chest, as though they were the only thing tethering you to composure. The faint, restless twitch of your foot, as if grounding yourself in the moment might somehow steel your resolve. Viktor’s sharp gaze took it all in, dissecting each movement with clinical precision.

He knew people like you—driven, calculating, and desperate enough to mask their intentions beneath a veneer of politeness. And he couldn’t say he liked those people. After all, none of these ever respected him as a person.

The man turned slightly, his unease masked by a calm exterior. “Pardon me, but I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” he murmured, sparing you only a glance before returning to the runes scattered before him. He doesn't need your name to know that you are probably just wasting his time. Jayce is the social butterfly of this lab, why would Viktor step up to that position himself now? His fingers twitched, tracing invisible patterns in the air. Something was missing—a piece of the puzzle that eluded him, leaving his work at a frustrating standstill. Your presence only worsened the irritation.

“And,” he added, voice cool, “I don’t believe barging into someone’s lab is appropriate behavior.” He was still polite too, mirroring you, but with a sharper edge to his tone.

“Ah, forgive me, Mister Viktor,” you replied, your tone bright with feigned enthusiasm. “Professor Heimerdinger suggested you might assist me with my work.” Your words were honeyed, rolling from your tongue with practiced ease. But to Viktor, they grated—an unwelcome distraction wrapped in false cheer.

He frowned slightly but composed himself, the tension in the room thickening as he weighed your intentions. “Eh, did he now?” he asked, his voice a low murmur, the edge of suspicion unmistakable.

“Indeed, he did,” you replied, your smile unwavering, even as you felt the weight of Viktor’s disinterest pressing against you like a cold wall. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before continuing. “I’m a psychology student working on a long-term social experiment for one of my classes. My hypothesis explores the moment when strangers stop being strangers—when potential feelings start forming in the human mind. For that, I need a partner. A stranger. Someone with a disciplined mind and a unique perspective—someone like you, Mister Viktor.”

Viktor’s pencil halted mid-sketch, the graphite tip hovering just above the parchment. His hand lingered there, frozen in place. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, his sharp, calculating eyes narrowing slightly as he processed your words. “A social experiment,” he said, his tone flat and unyielding. He tilted his head ever so slightly, as though examining an odd specimen. “And you think I am… suitable for this?” A hint of genuine surprise sneaked into his tone but left as quickly as it came.

“Yes,” you answered firmly, gripping the papers in your hands just a little tighter. Your knuckles whitened under the strain, but you pushed through the nerves. “Your reputation speaks for itself. I know you’re logical, methodical, and—above all—dedicated to understanding things on a deeper level. That’s exactly the kind of person I need.”

You were, in truth, reciting a version of Professor Heimerdinger’s high praise for Viktor, hoping to appeal to the man’s intellect—or perhaps his pride. Flattery, you believed, had a way of softening even the toughest exterior. Surely Viktor wouldn’t be an exception.

But he was.

A dry, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. His brown hair caught the faint glow of the lab’s overhead lights as he regarded you with a faint smirk. “And you think compliments will convince me?” His words carried an edge, a sharpness that made you wince inwardly. He looked through you. “Miss…?”

You stammered, quickly offering your name, your voice faltering for just a moment.

He repeated your name on his lips, his tone clipped and formal, “I have no interest in your experiment.” He leaned forward slightly, tapping the edge of the parchment with his pencil. “My work on the HexTech requires my full attention. I see little value in spending time on something so… trivial as a study in a field that I'm not part of.” His gaze flicked back to his work, as though you had already ceased to exist.

“But—”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone more suited to your needs,” he interrupted without looking up. “Perhaps Jayce. He seems far more… enthusiastic about social endeavors.”

Your jaw tightened. You fought the urge to snap back, forcing yourself to breathe through the frustration bubbling in your chest. Your project was already dangerously behind schedule, and Viktor was the only person who could add real credibility to your research. Without him, you might have to resort to asking random strangers on the street.

“I didn’t come here lightly, Mister Viktor,” you said, keeping your voice steady, though your hands trembled slightly. You took a hesitant step closer, holding out your papers as if offering him a tangible piece of your determination. “I believe you could bring something to this experiment that no one else could.”

Viktor’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t even glance at the papers you were holding. “And yet,” he said simply, “I am declining.” His words were calm, almost dismissive, as though this conversation was little more than a fleeting distraction.

Your shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of rejection settling over you like a heavy cloak. Still, you forced a polite smile, taking a step back toward the door. “I understand,” you murmured, your voice softer now. “But, if you ever reconsider, the offer will remain open.”

As you turned to leave, your eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, silently hoping he might change his mind. After all, having Viktor’s name on your project would make it shine in ways no one else’s could.

He didn’t respond. His attention was already back on the intricate sketches spread across his desk, his pencil moving once more with smooth, calculated strokes.

You stepped out of the lab, the door closing quietly behind you. For a moment, you stood there in the dim hallway, staring at the floor as frustration and determination wrestled within you. Finally, you straightened your back and clenched your fists.

This wasn’t over. Viktor may have dismissed you now, but you weren’t about to give up so easily.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The following day, Viktor was hunched over his workbench, the glow of his lamp illuminating the scattered blueprints and prototypes littering his desk. The rhythmic scratching of his pencil filled the quiet lab as he worked tirelessly, his mind consumed by equations and mechanical schematics.

A soft, deliberate knock on the lab door broke his concentration. Viktor frowned, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. “Enter,” he called, his tone distracted as his focus remained on the half-drawn sketch before him.

The door creaked open, and the familiar sound of measured footsteps echoed in the room. “Ah, Viktor, my boy!” Professor Heimerdinger’s cheerful voice broke the quiet like a beam of sunlight through a clouded sky. Viktor sighed inwardly, already sensing where this was going.

“Professor,” Viktor greeted politely without looking up, his pencil resuming its careful work. “What brings you here? I am quite occupied at the moment.”

“Yes, yes, I can see that,” Heimerdinger replied, his bushy eyebrows twitching as he surveyed the cluttered workspace. He was used to Viktors behaviour by now. “But even the most brilliant minds need a break now and then.” He hopped onto a nearby stool, his small stature barely bringing him to Viktor’s eye level.

“I do not have time for breaks,” Viktor said curtly, turning the page of his notebook. “There is much to be done, and no one else will do it.”

“Ah, but that is precisely why I am here!” Heimerdinger clapped his hands together, his bright eyes sparkling. “You see, a fellow professor approached me with a rather fascinating project yesterday. A psychology experiment, no less!”

Viktor’s pencil froze for a moment, though he didn’t look up. “I am aware,” he said, his voice neutral. “Their student came to me with her request.”

“And?” Heimerdinger leaned forward, his ears twitching with curiosity.

“I declined,” Viktor replied simply. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “It is not my area of expertise, nor does it hold any relevance to my work.”

Heimerdinger’s expression softened, and he stroked his long mustache thoughtfully. “Ah, Viktor, always so focused, so disciplined. But sometimes, the most unexpected endeavors can lead to the greatest discoveries.”

“I fail to see how studying the emotional whims of strangers would contribute to the advancement of technology,” Viktor said, a hint of irritation creeping into his tone.

The professor chuckled warmly. “Perhaps not directly, but there is value in understanding people, Viktor. After all, technology is meant to serve humanity, is it not? To improve their lives?”

Viktor’s gaze flicked to Heimerdinger, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. “I serve humanity by solving practical problems, not by indulging in frivolous studies.”

Heimerdinger tilted his head, undeterred by Viktor’s resistance. “And yet, this project may provide you with a fresh perspective—one that could inspire new ideas, new solutions. Sometimes, stepping away from our usual pursuits is exactly what we need to move forward.”

Viktor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Professor, I respect your wisdom, but I have no interest in this.”

Heimerdinger hopped off the stool, his expression thoughtful. “Perhaps not now, but I do hope you’ll reconsider. This student is quite determined—and determination, my dear boy, can be a powerful thing. She sees something in you that perhaps you cannot see in yourself.”

Viktor said nothing, his eyes drifting back to his sketches.

With a knowing smile, Heimerdinger began to make his way toward the door. “I’ll leave you to think about it. But don’t forget, Viktor—even the sharpest tools need sharpening from time to time.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, Viktor sat in silence, staring at the half-finished design on his desk. His mind wandered back to the previous day, to your determined expression and the way your voice had wavered, just slightly, as you tried to convince him.

He shook his head, pushing the thought aside. He had work to do.

But no matter how hard he tried to focus, your words lingered, an unwelcome echo in the quiet of his lab.

The lab grew quieter as the hours stretched on. The faint hum of machines and the occasional scrape of pencil against paper were Viktor’s only companions. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to drown himself in his work, his thoughts kept returning to the professor’s visit—and to you.

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling sharply. The pencil in his hand spun idly between his fingers, his mind no longer on the schematics before him.

“Even the sharpest tools need sharpening.”

Heimerdinger’s words echoed in his mind, irritatingly persistent. Viktor frowned, his sharp gaze drifting to the blueprints spread across his desk. Technology, innovation, progress—these were his domains. He had little patience for the unpredictability of human emotions or the nuances of social interaction. And yet...

He set the pencil down with a sigh, the sound of it rolling across the desk breaking the silence. He hated to admit it, but perhaps Heimerdinger had a point. If understanding people could somehow refine his work, perhaps there was merit in stepping outside his comfort zone.

The thought lingered, refusing to be dismissed.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next afternoon, campus life was in full swing. Students hurried between classes, their conversations blending into a low, bustling hum. The crisp breeze carried the scent of freshly cut grass, and sunlight dappled the stone pathways.

You were sitting on a bench outside the psychology building, reviewing your notes with a furrowed brow. The project was progressing slower than you’d hoped, and Viktor’s rejection had left you scrambling for alternatives.

“Miss.”

The familiar voice made you freeze. You looked up, your heart skipping a beat as you saw Viktor standing a few feet away. He looked slightly out of place amidst the bustling campus, his posture as bad as ever, the way he clinged onto his cane. He wore a neutral expression, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

“Mister Viktor?” you asked, your voice laced with surprise. You quickly stood, clutching your notebook to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I have reconsidered your proposal,” he said, his tone calm and measured. His hands rested behind his back, and his gaze remained fixed on you, sharp and assessing. “Your professor and Heimerdinger believe this experiment could be of… benefit, and I find the reasoning difficult to ignore.”

Your eyes widened, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to process his words. “You mean—you’re agreeing to help me?”

“For the time being,” Viktor replied, tilting his head slightly. “But I have conditions.”

“Of course! Anything,” you said quickly, nodding fervently.

“I expect structure,” he said. “A clear outline of objectives, timelines, and goals perhaps. If this experiment is to occupy my time, it must be efficient and purposeful.”

“Absolutely,” you said, your excitement bubbling over. “I’ve already prepared a detailed plan—I can show you right now!”

Viktor held up a hand, silencing you with a slight gesture. “Tomorrow,” he said firmly. “I will meet you here, and we will review it then.”

“Tomorrow,” you echoed, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events.

He gave a curt nod and turned to leave, his brown hair swaying lightly in the breeze as he walked away.

“Miss.” He called you once more.

“One hour per day, that is the time I can offer you.”

As he disappeared into the crowd, a grin spread across your face. You couldn’t believe it—Viktor had actually agreed.

Little did you know, Viktor’s agreement was not purely out of interest in your experiment. There was a part of him, buried beneath the layers of logic and discipline, that was curious—curious about how this unpredictable detour might shape his understanding, of both people and himself.

[sethcertified]

「 SCREAM FOR YOU ! 」 . . . 📂 EPILOGUE

scream: billy loomis & stu macher

w.c: 2.1k

⊹˚.⋆ synopsis . . . Waking up from a coma, the events that followed the Macher house massacre are revealed to you by a familiar face. Except, they’re not how the story actually went…

⊹˚.⋆ starring . . . billy loomis, stu macher, & male reader

My name is [Name] Riley.

I am 17 years old.

I am sitting in a hospital bed.

I miss my bed.

My butt hurts.

I miss my home.

...

I miss my sister.

I shook my head as I threw down the pencil onto my lap with a frustrated sigh. My fingers ached from the force I held the pencil with while writing in my newly appointed journal. Mr. Ryder, the psychiatrist that had been appointed to me, had given me the journal to document my mental state since the massacre at the Macher party as I way to make sure I was doing okay, yet it felt more like torture than a way to check up on how I was feeling mentally.

The only relief it gave me was a false sense of company. I hadn't spoken to anyone since I had been put into this room except the nurses that came and went, my doctor, and my psychiatrist. I ignored the outside world's efforts to get me to face the people I had betrayed despite the knocks on my door and the letters slipped into my room. It was lonely, no doubt, but I was too much of a coward to face the reality of what I had done.

What they had done.

The blood on their hands. The blood on mine. It stained. Stained my mind with guilt of what I had done; the path I had chosen. 10 people had died that night, and I could've prevented all 10 of them if I hadn't been so caught up in my own feelings.

In the end, I prevented one. One death. Yet the guilt didn't diminish in the slightest. The blood didn't wash away. Everything remained the same. Everyone remained dead. Except me.

I had hoped I would die that night whether it was on the floor or on that stretcher, but fate had refused to show me pity. Fate decided I needed to be punished for what I had done by keeping me alive. But that wasn't punishment enough; fate felt the need to punish me even more. Fate had kept them alive as well.

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher were alive and all because of me. I had saved them from death that night but sacrificed some of the people I loved the most. It was a fair price to pay for my actions, but I didn't realize that the transaction would actually happen. That they would actually be dead. Even as I thought that, my brain couldn't process the fact that they were dead. That they were all dead.

Tatum was dead.

Dewey was dead.

Randy was dead.

Gale was dead.

Dead, dead, dead, and more dead.

I coughed awkwardly as I averted my attention away  from the journal and my depressing mindset to the hoard of pity gifts resting around my room. They had been gifted to me from all sorts of people; relatives, friends, even people I had never even talked to. I hadn't bothered reading a single one. They saw me as a hero. A survivor. I couldn't face them knowing that I was anything but those things.

The bright pop of colors of the gifts contrasting against the plain, white walls of my bleak hospital room was distraction enough from my thoughts, but just staring at the huge array of them made my mind reel in guilt. With a sigh, I leaned my head back against the plush pillow, shutting my eyes. Sleep called out my name begging for me to relax into the bed just as it had been It was routine at this point. Ever since I arrived here, sleep was all I seemed to do. After all, it was the only distraction from my horrid thoughts.

As my mind began to turn off, a knock at the door resonated from the far corner of my room, but I payed no mind. Knocks were frequent and expected at this point. As I learned from experience, they usually leave after about a minute or two of knocking, so I expected the same routine to follow. At least until the knocking persisted for minutes on end after the first knock. My brows flexed in annoyance as my patience drew thin. "Can't you give a guy some peace?" I yelled out.

A muffled voice yelled back out to me in response, "[Name]? It's me, Sidney! Please open the door." My eyes shot wide open as I tumbled out of the hospital bed, rushing to open the door. I hadn't heard from Sidney since I instructed her to fake her death many weeks ago. While one of the nurses had told me Sidney visited while I was stuck in my coma when I first barely woke up with a teasing, "Your girlfriend came around. She was so worried! How cute! Yada yada," but refused to tell me anything I actually yearned to know about her visit.

I had been hoping she would come back to see my now that I wasn't unconscious, so to hear her voice from the other side of the door was liberating. Exciting, even. I launched the door open to see to Sidney standing there, "Sid-"

"[Name]."

"You're alive," I gasped with relief. Sidney Prescott was alive. My grand scheme had succeeded. I wrapped my arms around Sid's waist as I pulled her into a hug; her head fell into the crook of my neck, mumbling, "I thought you died."

"I thought you died," I said. Sidney chuckled weakly as she pulled away, yet still keeping her hands on my shoulders. Her eyes shown under the fluorescent light with a hopeful gleam. "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked, genuinely confused. I had done nothing, in my opinion, that was deserving of a thank you from anyone, Sidney especially. I wasn't aware of how far back her knowledge of what actually went down was, but I didn't think twice about underestimating her. For all I could know, she knew everything that I had done alongside Billy and Stu.

"For saving my life?" Sidney joked but her tone held sincerity underneath the layer of sarcasm. My confused expression slipped away into something morbid as guilt overcame me once more. Although, in truth, I did save Sidney's life; it didn't feel right for her to thank me. I had betrayed her trust, friendship, etc under the guise of my "investigation." I had went behind her back about Cotton Weary, got together with her boyfriend who happened to be the actual criminal behind her mother's brutal murder, killed her father, and helped the same murders with their plan to kill her.

I brushed her hands off my shoulders as I headed back to my bed. How could I face her knowing she thought of me so sincerely? I sat on the edge of my bed with my head resting on my palms. My eyes stared holes into the white tile of the ground. The sound of shoes tapping against the floor made me shut my eyes. Sidney was heading my way without a doubt, and I dreaded every click of her shoe against the time.

The clacking stopped as the spot next to me was occupied by Sidney, "Are you okay?" I nodded weakly as I turned to her. I couldn't let my emotions get in the way; something I learned the hard way. "How are you here, Sid? Doesn't everyone think you're dead? And what about Billy and Stu? If they know you're alive, they'll come after you." My voice was urgent and a tad bit frantic. These were questions I had been asking myself ever since that nurse told me Sidney came by, and I truly did need them answered.

"They really haven't told you anything?" Sidney asked with shock laced in her tone. My brows furrowed as I thought back to the authority figures that had been taking care of me. Was there really something they've been hiding from me that was so important? Is that why the nurse refused to tell me anything about Sid's initial visit? "What do you mean?"

Sidney grasped my hand in hers. Her eyes were scanning my face, making my stomach churn with anxiety. She was looking for something. I didn't know what it was nor if she would find it. Hell, I didn't even know what "it" was. Sid's eyes shone with pity, "Everyone knows I'm alive, [Name]. They know about you saving me too."

"What?!" I asked as my chest began to swell with anxieties. What happened while I was in my coma? What happened to Billy and Stu? I gasped for air as my head raced, "How?"

"Hey, hey, calm down," Sidney rested her other hand on the back of my shoulder, trying to keep me steady. "Let me explain." I nodded as I took some breaths. I wasn't going to get anywhere by having a panic attack.

"I did as you said and hid away. I was heading to sneak into the police car when I saw your mom by the garage." My eyes widened at that. My mom had came? But my shock quickly washed away into despair as I remembered she probably saw Tatum's blood staining the garage door. I wasn't sure if Sidney sensed my sadness, but if she did she payed no mind. "She was upset- but she was just asking if you were safe. I told her about your plan, and she took me home with her."

I nodded, eager to hear the rest of what she had to say. Sidney took my nod with a stride as she continued, "We all thought you were dead. Week after week, the doctor would say the same thing, so your mom wanted to ensure you and Dewey and Tatum and everyone else got the justice they deserved. She got this lawyer and was determined to arrest Billy and Stu after I had told her everything that they had done."

My fingers twitched against my leg as I froze. Billy and Stu hadn't visited me once... Was this the reason why? Were they seriously locked away while I was in this coma? But those questions only led to one; one question I couldn't wrap my head around. Why would they keep my innocence intact?

Love? No way.

"Did they?" I asked. Sidney nodded as she wrapped her arms around me. "We don't have to worry about them, anymore. They can't terrorize us nor our families anymore." I smiled as she wiped the leaking tears out of her eyes. It was a fake smile. My mind was elsewhere, and I could not be happy for either of us in the moment.

Sidney sensed that and backed away from me. Her eyes scanned my face before she stood up. "It's a lot to digest, so I'll give you some space. See ya later, [Name]." I waved bye at her as she excited the hospital room, but my happy facade was gone as soon as her presence was out the door.

Billy and Stu were arrested? And I'm now a hero? What? I felt the migraine take over my body as I bit my lip. What had happened? My thought process was interrupting once more as a knock came from the door. I rolled my eyes. "Come in!" I yelled. Yet no one did. My brows furrowed as a small slip of presumed paper slid out from under the door.

I stood up from the bed to observe the small, folded piece of paper. Bending down, I grasped the paper gently before unfolding it. The words on the paper made me freeze and my blood go cold.

I know what you did.

✎ notes . . . So many people were asking for it, so I finished off the epilogue that had just been collecting dust in my drafts 😭 but this does kinda make it OFFICIAL that scream for you isn't over although I gave up on it. It's gonna be awhile before the sequel is out and I'm focused on other projects rn as well as my requests on my tumblr. That being said, I have a discord server! Pls join its very empty rn and there's definitely some of u who I think r rlly cool and would like to know better!

https://discord.gg/f8YBEjzz

Thank you for all the love even tho this book sucks. It's crazy to see how big it has gotten and 500 followers!! I'm gonna shed a tear. Thank you for all the comments, I adore every single one. Thank you for the notes. And thank you for enjoying my work.

©️ sethcertified 2023 10.5

[kisscastellan]

BURNING TOUCH | C. STEWART

pairing ➵ cole stewart x fem reader

synopsis ➵ you’ve only ever seen him in flashes of golden, cropped hair. cerulean blue eyes glazing over the room but never quite meeting yours. you crave his attention, but when you finally get it in the form of a partner Op mission, is it truly worth it?

wordcount ➵ 12K

content warnings ➵ major secondhand embarrassment at times, mean!!!!! cole, mixed signals, reader lowkey doesn’t know how to drive, reader is so down bad it’s pathetic, cole is aware of your feelings the whole time and kind of takes advantage of that, cole being a manipulator??? you might dislike him so much you probably won’t root for them anymore lol…takes place before never fade, character death, suggestive scenes and mentions of s*x, cole stewart is warning enough

a/n ➵ this took so much out of me. i was writing this for the better part of the week, long nights of staying up and having my eyes burn and fingers cramp from writing. this better not flop or i’ll literally cry. i didn’t reread and fix any mistakes after 7k words in and i dont have a beta so if you see any mispelling or sentences out of wack, ignore it pls. i swear my fingers had a mind of their own and i barely planned this fic out and yet it came together?? i didnt notice how hard it would be to write a fic this long and not keep repeating the same phrases/words so sorry in advance, i hope you enjoy!

i know theres not a lot of us the darkest minds fans but to the few that are, i did this for you!!!! i hope there will be others coming across this fic that like it enough to dive into the world of tdm and join the fandom because we need more ppl

p.s i am obsessed with this song and i feel like it fits their situations so please listen to it wherever in the fic you see fit!!!

YOU’RE UNSURE WHY Alban has called you into his office. The sound of your ballerina flats echoes off the league’s facility walls. You wipe your sweaty palms on your pencil skirt, and when that doesn’t work to calm you, you curl your fingers into your palms, leaving crescent shape marks on your skin.

Did you do something? You don’t remember doing anything to break league policy. You were just some nerdy, IT girl! All you did was stick to the computer labs, hacking away for any information the league needed. You know they rescued you, and the other researchers from the quiet, leda corp base in Oregon. You know they needed the little research you guys had on IAAN—so much so they offered you a place at the league in exchange for your loyalty and skills, but did they finally have a reason to boot you?

You thought you were doing good, amazing even. You were the most qualified person down at the labs! They can’t just kick you to the side and let you fend for yourself after you literally betrayed the government for them.

And if they did..you wouldn’t see him again.

Ugh here you go, always having your trail of thought go back to that stupidly annoying, stupidly beautiful, stupidly everything you’ve ever wanted; the man of your dreams.

When you first saw him, you’re a hundred percent sure time stopped. No, literally, the time had stopped. The field agents that broke into the leda corp base you were stationed at had froze all the clocks in the facility and set them back at least fifteen minutes, giving them ample time to get in and out with the packages (aka the kidnapped researchers) while not alarming the actual leda corp workers, deceiving them into thinking they had more time on their lunch break.

You remember him carrying you when your legs gave out from all the running, which reminiscing back, you’re really embarrassed about. But that didn’t deter him one bit, he looked back at your crumpled body and hasted you onto his. Eyes jumping side to side as he takes turns in the facility’s building, watching out for any security or leda corp. It was like you weighed nothing to him, which was probably the case. Your evidence? His strong, muscled body rippled against yours as he ran to the league’s SUVS outside.

You never really saw him frequently after that. If his non official title of “league’s golden boy” was anything to go off of. Which meant he was always ever on the field, constantly being given ops to lead and complete.

But you were content! Especially when you see him all dirtied and bruised coming back from an op, sweat clouding his temple as he bit his bottom lip in controlled pain, a little stumble to his step as he made his way to get bandaged up. You think you might’ve died and then got resurrected when his gaze trailed across the room, and set his eyes on you. It was only for a second of course! But you swear you almost started stripping right then and there and possibly traumatizing a couple of psi teenagers along the way.

You reach Alban’s office, lightly knocking twice to signal your arrival. You wait for his voice to call out a “come in!” And let yourself twist the doorknob.

“Good morning, Miss ____. I hope you found your way quite well. If you may,” Alban stated, arm out to point you to the only other empty seat in front of his desk.

It was now you realized there was another figure in the chair next to yours, and to your sheer luck, it was him.

Did you manifest this? All those days of you quietly trailing him as he made his way around the base, hiding quickly behind walls and pillars when he turned with confusion at your aforementioned footsteps behind him.

Okay fine, maybe you were a little stalkerish. And okay, maybeeee you were a little creepy. But he saved your life! He was quite literally your knight in shining armour, or in his case, black tactical gear.

You realized you might have been gaping a little too obviously, lips parted in barely concealed adoration as you watch his charming, white smile falter in a little awkwardness at your blatant staring. Bemused blue eyes, looking between you and Alban, sending him a look presumably meaning ‘are you catching this?’

Alban clears his throat to break your trance, cutting the silence with conversation to ease the weird tension in the room. The weird tension you caused.

“I suppose you already know Cole?”

Cole goes to introduce himself, hand out to shake yours. When you touch him, you swear you almost let out a whimper. His hand, so firm and filled with aged callouses, held yours so gently you might delude yourself into thinking he wants you to have his babies.

“I’m Cole Stewart, and you must be the famous ____ Alban has been telling me about. I have to say, he didn’t mention you were so adorable.”

Ahh, there it is. That southern hospitality. Growing up, you weren’t particularly attracted to accents. You thought it was a bit cliche when you saw girls your age fawn over British accents of celebrity heartthrobs, but the way his words roll off his tongue, sweet like cornbread, you turn putty into his hands.

Which—you’re still shaking by the way. You let go of his hand, and bring your gaze from his lips. God, can you get any more embarrassing?

“I know I’m Cole! I mean, you’re Cole. I know you’re Cole! We, we met before. You and the league went on a covert op in Portland to rescue the kidnapped researchers and I..I was one of them! So yeah we met before. You actually saved my life, and I didn’t get to thank you for it—and I am still talking, okay, I’m going to shut up now!”

Apparently..you could.

Cole purses his lips and you swear he seems a little mildly uncomfortable. His cheeks look a little red but that could be due to the terrible air conditioning the league has.

Great, first words you speak to your self proclaimed soulmate and he already thinks you’re a grade A freak.

“Okay….,” Alban chokes, clearly experiencing a wave of second hand embarrassment. “Now that introductions are wrapped up, I wanted to tell you exactly why I called you in.”

You sit up straighter when you hear Alban go from friendly, to serious. Aware that this is no laughing matter.

“We know you were with Leda Corp for quite some time before we picked you up. Now, I know you’re not a field agent but because of this, I’m aware that you know your way around one of their facilities, and how they work. How they move.” You can hear the emphasis in his voice with how he makes the words he says leave a purpose.

“Cole here will be going on a solo op, deep undercover at one of Leda Corp bases in Pennsylvania . And I want you to go with him.”

You emit a squeak as you take in everything he’s saying. From the corner of your eye you can see Cole sending you a glance from the sound you made, and you can clearly see him doubting your part in this op.

Alone…he wants you to join Cole…alone. Pennsylvania ? That’s at least a little under two days from California, not counting the stops you’ll need for fuel and sleep, and said undercover mission at the actual base.

You’re going to be alone with Cole for at least a few weeks, and you don’t know whether to jump for joy or walk out this office, straight into the armory where the league keeps their guns, and shoot yourself.

Before you can celebrate, you hear Cole huff from beside you. Apparently, not happy with this arrangement at all.

“Alban, you know I’m not an idiot. I don’t need a partner for this. I know my way around computers and I’ve done undercover ops before with ease. Frankly, I think it’s dangerous if ____ comes along. She’s not trained and that could cause a hindrance.”

Damn, way to completely block your feeble chance at romance.

Alban fixes a stare at Cole, conveying him to back down. Not to argue with him.

Cole looks like he just might not listen, lips opening and closing before he finally licks them, and swallows. He slumps against his chair, and rolls his eyes so far back he resembles a bratty teenager.

“Of course. I’ll go with Cole and help in any way he needs. Not that, he needs any help other than for the mission of course—,” you whip your head to Cole who’s staring at you in perplexity from your accidental innuendo. “I mean, I’m sure you don’t need help for the undercover part either. That wasn’t some dig at you. I’m just letting it be known I’ll be of help. Yeah, that’s what I wanted to say.”

You’re out of breath by the end of your word vomit, observing back and forth between Alban and Cole. Praying to God to let the earth swallow you whole and never let you see the light of day, since distinctly, you cannot act like a normal human being.

Cole gets up without one last glance at you, and swiftly exits the room. Without a doubt thinking to himself you were the most incompetent, and bumbling fool to ever exist.

You’re not so sure he thinks you’re adorable anymore.

Alban sighs and raises his eyebrows in contemplation. Seemingly regretting his previous instruction.

“You’ll be heading out come morning, so pack light and have a conversation with Cole on your route. The league will be giving you a car and a couple of hundred for a few stays at a motel. Once in Virginia, there’ll be a safe apartment where you two will reside and you’ll both go from there.”

You nod and get up from your seat, tripping over the carpet below you. Your hands drop on his desk to steady yourself and you look at Alban sheepishly, who now is wondering how on earth you’ve survived in the league so far.

He stares across your shoulder at the door, indicating you to leave.

You make your way to the door, and walk out.

This day will haunt you for eternity.

“There’s no way you did that.” Vida grimaced, olive toned hand coming to brush through her electric blue locks. Sometimes, you find yourself jealous of the teenager. She didn’t care for what other people thought of her, and expressed herself freely. Something you’ve always wanted to do, yet you were caught up in your awkwardness.

You were the only adult Vida was friends with—other than a certain Cate Connor. Similarly, Vida was the only person you were friends with in the league. Everybody else were mere coworkers.

You sighed and grabbed your face in your hands, stomach churning in shame and anxiety, and to be honest a little bit of lust at the thought of your encounter with Cole. God, were you a masochist?

“Sadly I did, and sadly, I can’t take it back. Just please comfort me and tell me everything will be okay and that he doesn’t hate me. Oh my God, what if he hates me? He probably thinks I’m the biggest freakazoid to step foot in the league!” You cry out, fingers gripping down on your lower eyelids.

Vida’s face morphs into one of disturbance as she watches the pinks of your eyes fill your face.

“First off, stop doing that with your face. Before he walks in and really thinks you’re a freak,”

You gape at her as you follow her instructions, arms crossing in defiance.

“Second, it probably wasn’t even that bad. I haven’t met Cole but from the way these idiots act he seems like he’s pretty nice. I don’t think he took anything personally.”

You bite your lip as you think over Vida’s sentence, hands coming to cradle your abdomen.

“No, no it was definitely bad. He seemed annoyed and I made an INNUENDO! Vida, can you believe it? I literally made it seem like I’d offer up my feminine aspects! I don’t think you understand, Vida! I MADE IT SEEM LIKE I WAS OFFERING SEX.”

The blue haired girl jumps back at your volume, and lifts up her arms in an ‘okay.’

“Again, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. It was a simple mistake.”

You cry out as you shout, “IN FRONT OF HIS BOSS.”

Vida finally allows herself to express her true thoughts on the matter, unable to comfort you in your situation. Her expression is one of horror as she says, “honestly, yeah, that’s downright fucking terrible. I’m actually feeling sorry that you exist right now.”

You dramatically slide down the wall of her room, basically sobbing to your heart's content.

“I don’t think I can do this..I never want to face Cole ever again.”

She watches you bitch and moan until she rolls her eyes and gets up from her bed, sitting across you to grab ahold of your shoulders.

“____, it’s okay. In a few days time he’ll forget about this and you’ll be skipping your way across the United States, hand in hand, eloping on the east coast.”

You sniffle, hands coming to wipe the snot from your nose. “Really?” You hopelessly mutter, face filled with pathetic love.

“No! Who forgets a first impression like that? I honestly pity the both of you.”

Your jaw is hanging open as you view Vida, she smiles innocently and brings up her ring clad hands to push up and close your jaw. Shrugging in mock sorry.

You don’t stop crying that night.

You feel a wave of deja vu wash over you when you see one of the familiar black, league suvs parked in front of the facility. A pretty blond sits on the hood of the car, arms folded across themselves as he waits patiently for somebody.

That somebody being you.

While Alban had insisted on you and Cole conversing over the plan for the op, tying up any loose ends to be as quiet and neat as possible, you two actually hadn’t seen each other since the meeting. Which you were partly grateful for and partly not. You were glad you didn’t have to see more of Cole yesterday after that horrific encounter, but now you have to face him with no idea on how to go from there.

Cole was dressed in all black, chest covered in a t-shirt and legs clad in jeans. His sparkling belt twinkled in the sunlight if you paid close enough attention, which you always did to anything pertaining Cole and finally the star of it all—his beautiful leather jacket. He really did look like he walked out of every teenage girl’s bad boy fantasy.

When he spotted you, he sent a dazzling smile. That honestly surprised you.

Did he forget about yesterday? Maybe Vida was wrong, maybe he didn’t care. Maybeee He had an epiphany and realized you’re the love of his life and he definitely dreamt about you last night too.

Cole hopped off the car and walked towards you with the posture of someone who has never felt a day of insecurity in their lives. Spine straight, shoulders back, head held high. Once he was in front of you, he moved to grab the duffel in your hand, and motioned for you to follow him to the backseat of the SUV for you to place your backpack filled with necessities.

Once he placed your pathetic excuse of luggage in the back, he swung the door closed and dusted off his hands together. “Well, that should do it.”

You eye him as he opens the passenger door for you and he watches as you buckle in, a glint in his eyes when he hears you mumble a “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he smirks. And closes the door after him.

You survey him from the windshield as he makes his way to the driver seat, buckling himself in and inserting the key to start the ignition.

He turns his head to you and gives you a pointed look.

“Ready?”

You’re ashamed to say you gawked for a few seconds before stuttering, “y..yes.”

Cole whistles out an elongated ‘okay,’ and drums his fingers on the wheel, before turning to you again and releases out,

“As much as it is flattering, no more innuendos, K?”

Your mouth drops to form an “O” and you continue to stare at him, petrified, as he nonchalantly pulls out of the driveway without a care in the world. Starting your route across the continental United States.

He did not forget about yesterday. Vida was right, and he did care. He didn’t have some sort of epiphany and you are not the love of his life. Instead of dreaming about you, he probably had a nightmare.

When you and Cole finally talk, it’s sunset. Eight hours into your journey. You’ve crossed two state lines now, California to Nevada, and now, Nevada into Utah.

It wasn’t hard getting past government checkpoints, since you were both adults and weren’t hiding possible psi teenagers in the car. So everything went relatively smoothly.

Cole had turned on the radio about thirty minutes ago, humming along to the song that was playing. Surprisingly, the track that was on was one of your favorites.

Wow, can he get any more perfect? Beautiful and great taste in music. Talk about a killer combo.

Cole clicks his tongue before he glances at you, blinking a few times before bringing his eyes back to the road.

“So, how old are you?” he probes, tone sounding seemingly disinterested.

“Twenty-five, although I’ll be twenty-six soon.”

He nods and contemplates answering your unspoken question, your overt curiosity of his age hanging in the air.

He appears to drop the conversation, and you believe that’s the end of your short lived schizophrenic romantic tension.

Until you notice the way he fidgets in his seat and his sultry voice fills the car.

“I’m twenty-one. Just turned though.”

Twenty-one?! There is no way this casanova of a man is TWENTY-ONE. You can’t believe you’ve been acting a fool for a younger man. Five years wasn’t a big difference, but you’re still feeling like a cougar.

“Oh.. you’re, you’re a little on the young side.”

You curse yourself for stammering.

“Well don’t let my age stop you now, sweetheart.”

You’re sure he can see you short circuit from his peripheral vision from the pet name he uses. You clasp your hands together in caution to keep them away from the button of your jeans, in case you start taking off your pants in a pink clouded judgement.

“Relax, sweetheart. You’re so jumpy it kind of makes me antsy.”

When you don’t reply, Cole continues.

“You know your behavior rubs off on people right? So, if you’re chill, I’m chill. Got that?”

You try to focus on his words, but your brain locks onto the word ‘rubs’ and shuts off. You know what you want to be rubbing on.

You bring a hand up to your hair, skillfully looping it around your fingers in an attempt to calm yourself.

“Sorry, I’m just a little awkward.”

“A little?” He deadpans.

“Okay, a lot. I wasn’t the most popular growing up so I didn’t have much peer socialization and I guess that stuck throughout the years.”

He bites his lip in thought, “I can see that.”

Wow, way to kick a girl while she’s down. Now that you’ve exchanged approximately a hundred and eighty-one words with Cole (yes, you’ve been keeping count), it’s safe to say he’s a bit of a jerk. He’s not the rudest person on earth, no, but he weaponizes his sweet smile and southern charm, to appeal to others when he’s really a hidden asshole.

“Sorry, not everyone wants to be a perfect Cole Stewart.” You reply, scoffing.

“Not everyone can be.”

You narrow your eyes, what the fuck is this? Gossip girl?

Does he think you’re in a shitty 2000s drama? Because if you were, it wouldn’t be gossip girl. It would be pretty little liars, and Cole’s devilish ass would be A.

If Cole notices he’s upset you, he doesn’t show it. And frankly, you’re not sure he cares.

“You’re a bit full of yourself. Has anyone told you that?”

Cole gives you his award winning smirk, blue eyes snapping to you and back to the road all in a second.

“Only everyone who’s ever met me, yeah.”

“Well it’s not cute.”

He throws his head back in laughter, and kisses his teeth in small confusion. Unsure of where your sudden hostility came from.

“Down girl, I’m kind of missing you from a day ago. Innuendos and all.”

And just like that, you’re back to that blushing, ridiculous mess he’d had you in since the moment you saw him.

Missing you? Oh my God, he said he misses you? Of course he’s teasing, but you’ll lock that sentence away for the next time you daydream about him. Maybe in a scenario where he comes back from an op, touch starved and a lonely mess. Begging for you and—wait, you still haven’t answered.

“W..what? You, what are you, huh..?”

He lifts his eyebrows in mock surprise. Looking at you and shaking his head, “didn’t know it’d be that easy to get that version of you back.

“Say, do you act like this around any other guys? Because I’d say I get pretty jealous, and I don’t like to share.”

You think your heart skipped a beat. No, no you’re sure your heart skipped a beat and you haven’t felt it pulse since you noticed and how are you still alive, is your heart still beating? Maybe you should tell Cole to stop by the hospital, wait, no, that’s dangerous. Maybe he can give you a once over? If your heart stopped you’d think he know, would he give you cpr? His large hands pressing repeatedly down on your chest, big enough to maybe cup one of your boobs? Oh god, now you’re thinking of him breathing air into your lungs and now you really want Cole to administer cpr—

“…Yahoo? Earth to easily flustered girl? Are you there? Or did I break you?”

And as quick as he had you, he lost you again with that.

BREAK YOU?

Cole is roaring with laughter right now. Finding large amounts of humour in your current predicament.

“It really is that easy with you, wow. I can’t lie, I am greatly amused right now.”

He’s driving with his right hand as he places his left elbow on the window, head placed on his left palm.

“Man, I’m beat,” he yawns. “Let’s grab a stay at a motel tonight. Although we don’t have enough funds to get two rooms, so please, keep your hands to yourself. Alright?”

“As if I’d ever put my hands on you!”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Booking a room at Rosa’s Inn was fairly easy. You and Cole posed as obsessed, newlyweds. Stumbling into the lobby, playing perfectly drunk on love with each other. It took a bit of convincing on his end, ‘we can’t let them be even a little bit suspicious, I’m not that old, remember?’

Living in a post-apocalyptic world where young people are scrutinized and taken to camps sure does suck.

Cole steps out of the room’s bathroom, hot steam pouring out from his even hotter shower. His skin is a hue of a rosary shade of pink, stray water droplets falling down his bare chest. He doesn’t seem to mind his semi-clothed state, as he tightens the towel wrapped around his waist and makes his way to his backpack. Pulling out a fresh pair of pajama pants.

“Hello? Put a shirt on as well!” You call out, face blooming into a blush.

Cole moves to face you, hands on his hips as he takes you in with his eyes. You’re bundled up beneath the blanket with a book on your lap. He’s not sure which number it is, but he thinks you’re reading Harry Potter.

“This is how I sleep, sweetheart. Don’t like? Don’t look. However, I really doubt the fact you don’t like it.”

You slam your book shut and place it on the nightstand, sticking your nose up to him.

“You sure do have a chatty mouth.”

Cole crawls onto the bed you now realize is not as big as you had originally thought, body mere inches from yours.

“Yeah, yeah. You should see my brother’s.”

You tilt your head.

“Brother?”

Cole winces, and you realize he didn’t mean to let that slip. You wonder if you should do the good samaritan move and let it go, but after all his bitchy remarks today—you won’t.

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

He leans back against the headboard and closes his eyes, “there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

You study his face. Not caring at the fact he can feel you analyzing him.

“How old is he?”

Cole swallows so slowly, you fear he might have a lump stuck in his throat.

“He’s seventeen. My liam, he’s seventeen.”

You're afraid Cole can make out the pity in your voice you try to drown out. “Seventeen? That would mean…do you know if he’s safe? Is he in a camp?”

Cole sits up and avoids eye contact, his tone clipped when he says

“Yes! No.., I don’t know. Last I heard he was in Caledonia. A camp in Ohio. There was talk of an escape but most of the prisoners were killed in the process.”

You bring your hand out in an attempt to comfort him, freezing in the air when you see him move away from your touch. You steadily bring it back down into your lap.

“I’m sure wherever he is, he’s fine, Cole. If he’s anything like you.”

Cole lets your words seep into the room. The fingers on his right hand fiddling with each other.

“What about you? Any siblings?”

You shake your head no and pause when you realize he probably can’t see you facing the other direction. Though with the way Cole acts, he has eyes and ears everywhere.

“No, no siblings. I’m an only child.”

Cole quietly chuckles, no sign of humor in sight.

“Must be nice, huh. No younger siblings to worry about with psi, old enough to not be inspected with paranoia in public. Lucky you..” you don’t take offense to the blatant bitterness he venomously spits out.

You move a little closer to him on the bed and you swear he takes a sharp inhale of breath.

“You’re old enough too, Cole. A few years older than the age cut off of IAAN.”

You survey him as he looks back at you and grins, the kind of fake one people do when they’re hiding something bigger.

“Right. You’re right. I was old enough.”

He lays flat back on the bed and pulls the covers up his body; you take that as a sign to shut off the lamp and follow suit.

While he faces up, you face towards him. On your side.

“Do you think our world will go back to how it used to be?” You say so softly, you’re unaware if he’s heard it.

Your breath hits his neck and if the lights were on, you’d see the goosebumps trailing his anatomy.

He turns his figure to face you and you’re so close you can practically taste him if you dream hard enough.

In the dark, your eyes make out his dead blue ones on yours. And it’s like you can finally witness all the traumatic wounds he’s acquired in his lifetime.

“It’s never going to happen.”

And just like that, your fantasy comes crashing down.

Because you know Cole isn’t talking about your world.

He’s talking about the two of you.

When he turns his back to you, you wait at least thirty minutes before you let yourself cry. Tears soaking the pillow beneath you. You try your best to conceal your sniffles, a few ugly snorts leaving your voice box.

If your eyes weren’t soaking in tears, you might’ve seen a not so asleep, and very much awake Cole tense up. His body seeking a path deeper into the comforter.

Two hearts breaking that night.

Ten hours and a state line later, you’re closer to Colorado than you are to the rest of Wyoming. Cole was speaking to you freely, last night’s blues long gone from his mind. You were even driving now, taking over to let his cramping arms rest. You suppose it’s for the best that he doesn't entertain you…entertain a relationship..a relationship with you. He doesn’t need you distracted for the mission and you need to be prepared for anything.

His attitude towards you now has mellowed you out a bit—you think. He hasn’t said a word to purposely fluster you and get your panties in a twist, which was progress in of itself.

The forest’s greenery is all you drive by on the deserted highway, misty air fogging the pavement.

Cole is curled on his seat, leather jacket off his shoulders; instead, it’s laid across his body—acting as a blanket.

He might be napping.

Or he might be avoiding an exchange with you.

Who knows? You’re just glad you don’t have to look him in the eye, because you’re not confident in your ability to hold back your tears.

Cole twitches in his sleep, eyeballs hastily moving underneath his closed lids.

You try to ignore his weird movement and focus on the road, but Cole’s soft breaths went from slow, to a heavy drag. Lungs pushing out more air than in.

He’s shivering now, not so much to wake actually wake himself.

There’s a car on the road. You admire the shining color of the ruby red sedan in front of your SUV.

You drive for minutes longer until you cannot ignore Cole anymore. What started as a shiver has transcended into consistent compulsing. Worry trickling your voice as you attempt to lure him from his warring slumber.

“I’m sorry,

I’m sorry…I don’t

…claire.”

You struggle to make out the words he’s articulating, his dialogue thick with sleep.

You’re scared and you don’t know what to do, don’t know how to wake him up without having your gaze leave the windshield. Hell, you don’t even know why you’re driving! You’ve never been a good driver to begin with. Cole is shaking so hard now you’re terrified he’s having a seizure. He speaks clearer now, still stuck in a state of sleep.

“Liam don’t leave, they’ll help us. You can’t leave. You can’t leave me. You’re all I have left now.”

You lift your eyes to him and let one hand grab him, shaking him to awareness.

“Cole! Cole please, wake up. It’s just a nightmare. It’s not real!”

You’re dubious as to if he can hear you from within his little comatose state, so you try again. Harder.

“Cole, goddamn it, wake up!”

You look back at the road and literally scream in fear as you almost hit the red sedan from earlier and pull off on the gas to create some distance.

“Fuck you, Cole! This is all your fault. If you don’t wake up, I’ll never forgive you. Wait, I take it back. I’m sorry! I will forgive you. I do forgive you. Whatever is happening right now in there, you got through it. So, please just wake up. You’re scaring me and I’m not good with this kind of stuff. I need you…so just please—”

His eyes splinter open, then immediately shut, flinching from the blinding, penetrative light of the outside world. He sits up in his seat and his jacket falls from his body.

“Alright, alright, woman. You can stop screaming now.”

You rotate to him in glee and relief, “Cole! Thank God you’re awake. You scared me—”

You should’ve paid more attention to the way Cole’s sleepy face goes from fatigued, to down right horror-struck. And you definitely should’ve paid more attention to the road as you whip back so fast you almost break your neck, but it’s too late. In all likelihood, you’re positive you lost your voice from the unholy screech you bestowed into the car. Your SUV collides with that same red sedan and slides off the road; into the highway’s ditch.

It’s soundless for what feels like forever, the only audible thing being yours and Cole's haggard breathing.

Soon, he breaks the tranquility.

“What was it you were saying about needing me?”

Eventually, you’re back on the road. This time, with Cole in the driver’s seat.

It’s been two days and a half since your early visit to the grave and you are at last in Kansas, 3,000 miles into your journey.

Cole mentioned stopping at a grocery store to stock up on quick food (and to siphon gas from nearby cars, which you were impressed with the first time you saw him doing it)

Your legs ache from being in a vehicle for more than twelve hours each day, but you couldn’t complain. Not after the shit you got you both into.

Cole parks behind the store, the car hidden from view. He twists the key and slips it into his now blue jeans pockets, turning to you to say,

“Go on ahead and find some food for us to eat. I’m gonna go and do my thing.”

You listen without a fuss, and keep conscious of your surroundings. Making yourself acquainted with the cars parked in front.

There’s one car, two cars, red car, blue car—hold up, why were you reciting Dr. Seus? You must be losing your mind.

As you continue walking you abruptly stop. Red car? You leisurely twirl around and really look at the aforementioned tincan.

That’s definitely the same sedan you crashed into!

Call it a coincidence or fate, you just hope they don’t recognize you and demand a bill for reparations.

You’re in the abandoned supermarket, browsing the aisles as you pick anything that sounds even remotely filling. Stomach grumbling in anticipation at the calorie filled “dinner” you’ll be having with Cole tonight.

Hehe, like a date!

You’re giggling to yourself without a care in the world until you fix your gaze up and make eye contact with brown eyes. Eyes that are definitely not Cole’s. Eyes that flash blue and you’re sent thrown back, spine colliding into the very sharp edges of the shelves.

“Fucking shit…” you groan, eyes rolled back into your head from the pain. Stupid fucking super-powered kids, now teenagers are even more pains in the asses.

“C’mon let's go, Priya. Just—just leave it there’s no time!”

You move to sit up and again, you are sent down. Face pushed into the floor.

“Dude! What’s your deal? I won’t snitch!” You bark, teeth grinding against each other to stop the moans of pain from leaving your throat.

“Yeah right, like I’d believe anything an adult says.” The brown skinned boy snarls, his emotions so strong the veins on his neck are protruding from beneath his skin.

The girl he called out too, Priya, grabs his arms and pulls him back. Head shaking in disagreement at the unnecessary amount of force he’s using on you.

“Let’s just go, she’s not worth it.”

And with that, they disappear out of the store. A car’s ignition fading out of sound as it drives off.

You’re still on the floor rubbing your back when Cole walks in, his boots crunching on chip bags and soda cans in disarray. When he sees you he tilts his head in skepticism.

“What…,what happened here?”

You close your eyes and lay on the ground, in a moment to ground yourself.

“You don’t even want to know blondie.”

You wish that was the last time you encountered those kids who thoroughly kicked your ass, but of course the universe wasn’t on your side.

Maybe this is what you get for being nosy. You should really mind your business sometimes. Better yet, glue yourself to Cole’s back so he doesn’t have to wind up in the messes you cause.

It’s a day later when you see Priya and the boy again, their striking red car now outside of a stranded mall.

You were only supposed to walk in, do a look around for anything you needed and walk out as Cole siphons gas again.

In spite of that, you couldn’t ignore the sobs coming from above you as you sneakily hid behind many of the damaged counters. Climbing your way up the dead escalators with the sound of a mouse.

“It’s okay Priya, I’ll get us out of these. He won’t be back until a few minutes. Please, stop crying.”

Priya doesn’t respond and continues to choke on her own spit, the fear evident in how she breaks her voice bawling.

“After everything..we’ll go back again. I don’t want to go back to that stupid camp. Where we’ll be separated.”

The boy lets out a whine at Priya’s agony, desperately trying to say anything to help her feel better.

“We won’t! We won’t! Don’t worry, I’ll save us. I will.”

He stops his reassurances when he hears your footsteps. You know they’re thinking you’re probably the skip tracer who caught them, and you’re feeling extra bad you haven’t announced your presence otherwise.

The boy glares when he sees you and you haven’t seen a look of hatred that bad since you accidentally stole Callie’s science books in the fourth grade.

“You!” He hisses, anger taking over his senses.

“Me?” You exclaimed

“I knew you were a good for nothing skip tracer. You’re all such pathetic, lowly cunts.”

You bring your hands up in offense

“Woah, I’m no skip tracer. I’m actually going to be your white knight because I am releasing you.”

You walk over behind Priya and undo the knots in the rope, the girl immediately rushing to her friend’s side to mirror your actions.

When she’s done, they both rub at their raw wrists. You know they’re doubting your intentions but you don’t mind. It’s hard being a teenager in this world now.

Priya is the first to speak up. She’s clutching the boy’s arm into her chest from behind him. Her words are basically squeaking out of her.

“Why did you help us…”

You watch for a second and are simply unsure of what to say. You know why you helped. Because it’s wrong and kids should never be in those godforsaken camps. Yet you’re having trouble voicing it out loud.

The boy has enough of your silence and his eyes spark cerulean again, but doesn’t do anything but intimidate you. “Well then, go on. Answer her.”

“It was the right thing to do. Of course I’ll help. I don’t like or trust the camps. And I definitely hate skip tracers even more. So there was only one real option left to do.”

The two give each other a glance and seem to communicate with their eyes. You can see something deeper in them than friendship. The care he handles her with as he grabs her tiny hands into his, the admiration that practically bubbles out of her for him.

They look at you and give you little smiles, well at least Priya did. Curly haired boy just curled his lip.

“Well, whatever it was, thanks. You saved our asses right now.”

“Yay, time for celebration.” You joke as you pump your fists in the air, but that’s short lived as you hear the sound of frequency fill the room. The teenagers crumpled to the floor in pain, screams of terror in the air.

You turn to look at your intruder and get pistol whipped across the face, the force of it reeling you on the ground.

You can’t even bring yourself up to defend you and these vulnerable kids because you have a gun now pointed at you, with a very trigger happy man behind it.

“You bitch! These are my captures. My rewards. I’ll be damned if I let some thieving bitch steal my money.” He spits, saliva spraying your face.

“You are one sick son of a bitch, you know that?”

He eyes you with mock pity, thin lips frowning in sarcasm.

“Whatever darling, you should’ve stayed out of my way.”

He maneuvers around you to get to Priya and her boyfriend, and you just can’t. You can’t let anything get in between this sweet boy and his even sweeter girlfriend. They’re just kids. They don’t deserve to get seperated. And you don’t know what compels you. Maybe this moment takes you back to the night at the hotel. Cole opening up for the love he has for his brother Liam, the suffering he endures from the separation of his brother. You see the same look of love in Priya’s eyes, in her boyfriend’s. Not quite the same type of love, but love nonetheless.

That is why you get up, with all your might, and run towards him. Arms stretched out to do something—anything, to get him away from them.

He whirls around and brings his weapon back up, barrel an inch in front of your face

“Oh, no you don’t—”

Bang

You never knew what death felt like. You always thought it’d be something quick and fast, like a flash. Hitting you so hard you cannot recover. Then nothing. Just darkness. Not even misery.

You never knew what death felt like. And today, you don’t have to as you watch the bloodied body of the skip tracer fall to the floor. You’re confused as your hands fly to your face, dabbing it all over in happiness that it wasn’t blown off.

You peek up and see who you now want to be the father of your babies, Cole, standing there with a gun in his hand. A gun he had to use because you couldn’t stay in one place.

He tucks his firearm underneath his jeans, as he trips over to you. Legs moving so fast, he almost loses his balance.

Cole grabs your face in his hands and you’ve never seen him look so scared before.

“What were you thinking!”

It slaps you as you come to the conclusion you could’ve died today and tears well up in your eyes. Small drops of water streaming down your face.

“I don’t..I don’t know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry Cole. I’m such a fuck up. I don’t listen, I get us into car crashes, and now..now,”

He calms down as he considers your crying, hands now falling off your forefront and onto your waist. Pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay. Really, It’s okay sweetheart. I’m not..I’m not mad. Calm down, okay?” He strives to soothe you, but it doesn’t help.

He hauls away from your ear to yell out

“Can somebody turn that fucking thing off?”

Priya and her boyfriend scramble to the device, setting it off. Sighs of relief leave them as their mind and ears recover from the attack.

If you weren’t so busy crying, hanging onto Cole’s body for support, you would’ve noticed the effect the frequency had on him. Almost like it hurt him. Same way it hurt Priya and her boyfriend.

The black boy, who you now know as Kalil, shocks you with a hug. You can feel a wet spot on your shoulder as he thanks you for saving his Priya, for saving him. When he pulls back, he schools his expression.

That tough boy act will never leave him as long as he has Priya around to protect.

When Priya goes to thank you, she squeezes you so tight you can’t breathe. You rub her back until she deems it okay to let go.

Cole waits in the SUV as you say your goodbye to the psi teenagers, and they make their way into their red car. Driving off into the beautiful Kansas sunset. Never for you to see again.

You watch Cole as he angrily paces back and forth in front of you in the rusty, dingy motel you found yourselves in. His shirt is clinging to his form as he lifts his arms to hold his face in his hands, the sleeves straining against his biceps.

You know he’s upset at you. You tried so hard to avoid his line of sight throughout this whole op. You don’t know when his attitude toward you shifted—where that initial southern hospitality went. Well, wherever it is, you hope it finds its way back because you don’t think you can deal with this aggravated Cole anymore.

And you know—you know you should be apologizing for almost getting you two compromised. Your near death probably traumatizing him further. Adding to the already heavy baggage he has to carry. But you can’t help the way your eyes unconsciously rake across his form, his booted feet all but silently stomping inside the room. You always knew Cole was stunning, hell that’s why you have a stupid, school girl crush on him, but the way he looks now, arms littered with scars, old and new, black cargo pants held up with a belt, you just can’t stop yourself. And you know you should be on your knees right now begging for forgiveness, yet here you are now imagining yourself on your knees for something completely different.

“I can’t leave you alone for one second without you getting hurt, can I?” He seeths, teeth gritted together as if he were in pain.

You lick your lips and bite down on your bottom, eyebrows downcast in shame as his disappointment fills you.

“I..I’m sorry, I, I didn’t know what to do—”

Cole cuts you off with a sharp look, boots padding over to stand in front of you. He’s never been this close to you before. Up close, you can see all the scars littered across his skin from years of training. His blue eyes are like the deepest depths of the ocean, light long gone from the world’s beating. You don’t know what’s worse, staring straight into his eyes maintaining the strongest of eye contact you’ve ever held in your twenty three years of living, or staring at his plush pink lips that you know are about to form a sentence that will hurt you deep into your core.

“That’s the thing! You never know what to do. You’re always going around and being reckless, almost getting us caught. God, I should’ve just pushed to do this myself. You’re irresponsible and you don’t know what you’re doing.”

With every word he spits out he takes a step forward, and you take a step back.

“You’re a liability! A nuisance. You could’ve gotten yourself killed, which you almost did. Hell, you could’ve gotten me killed. Do you not think about the safety of your team members?”

He keeps going, and going, and he doesn’t stop. Not until your knees hit the back of the motel’s bed and you drop onto it with a soft plop.

You look up at him and hope he can see the apology in your eyes. The sincere regret you’re trying and desperately failing to convey. Wet eyes shaking back and forth between his as you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“I just wanted to help them. They were scared and they were hurt. And so, so in love. I couldn’t let anything happen to them. I just couldn’t.”

Something in his expression shifts as he watches you come undone at the seams, your face scrunched up in agony as if the mere thought of those two kids losing each other kills you.

Cole doesn’t know what crazy projection you placed onto those two kids, Kalil and Priya, is doing to you. Are you envious of their love? He doesn’t get why a grown woman is losing control over her dignity over an emotion so flickering as romantic love.

Cole knows you have a crush on him. It was fairly obvious the first day he laid eyes on you, wasn’t the first day you laid eyes on him. At least that’s what he thought until he introduced himself and you stammered out an ‘I know I’m Cole! I mean, you’re Cole. I know you’re Cole! We, we met before. You and the league went on a covert op in Portland to rescue the kidnapped researchers and I..I was one of them! So yeah we met before. You actually saved my life, and I didn’t get to thank you for it—and I am still talking, okay, I’m going to shut up now!’

Cole remembered thinking damn, you need an adderall. He also remembered the familiar feeling of burning in his veins, the fire flushing his skin a subtle red—he doesn’t know whether his psi abilities caused his blush, or if his blush—and by extension you, caused the flame to ignite his body.

You were pretty. There’s no denying that, maybe even beautiful. Your complexion was glistening with a little sweat in the dark room, whether that was from the adrenaline earlier, or the warmth of fire radiating off his body he now recognizes as his psi powers reacting to you, he doesn’t know. But that doesn’t stop him from doing what he does next. Maybe he should’ve given it more thought. You were four years older than him; closer to five—which wasn’t a lot but you were already an adult when the IAAN disease broke out. You’ve seen life, probably had your rebellious teenage phase, partying and drinking and all. Yet he felt so much older than you, it felt wrong. He felt the need to protect you, shelter you from broken and dangerous things. He doesn’t know where this feeling came from, but right now, in this room, he is the most broken and dangerous thing.

And as that last thought leaves him, Cole kisses you.

His lips move against yours, hungrily trying to capture all of your taste. He can feel your confusion from the way he went from a hundred to a thousand all in the span of five minutes, but he doesn’t stop. Your soft lips hesitantly start to push back against his and he feels your hands slide up beneath his shirt, onto his waist. He releases a sharp breath from the feel of your cold hands on his chest, palms no doubt feeling the burning sensation circulating his body.

“Cole, Cole you’re heating up..” You try to whisper into his mouth but he lets out a dismissive hum, his kisses distracting you from your remark.

“Ignore it,” he purrs. He should really back off you now, he can feel his control slipping from the hold he has on his red abilities but he can’t stop. He physically needs you against him, on him, he’s sure now that any other woman is completely ruined for him because of you.

He moves back to pull you up with him, off the bed. Cole breathes out a “jump” that you obediently listen to, legs wrapping around his taut waist. He’s still kissing you, not once leaving your form as he moves across the room to push you up against the wall. He can feel your lungs desperately grasping for air, as your hands slide up his biceps, neck, and finally to his head; fingers scratching at the roots of his military cropped, blond hair.

He finally lets go to inhale, head moving into the space beside your head. You take this as an invitation to wrap both hands around his nape, lips sensually placing open mouth kisses on his neck.

And he lets you have this—have the moment you’ve been fantasizing about since you met him. He lets you touch him, kiss him, as you slowly rock against his pelvis. He knows he’s whimpering like a teenage boy; like a pathetic virgin. But isn’t that what he is? Cole is twenty one, which made him fifteen when IAAN happened. And life wasn’t normal after that—he didn’t get to party, didn’t get to be a troublemaker teen. He feels inadequate for you—he doesn’t know how to please you. And God, does he want to please you.

Cole knows you’re experienced, well, enough experience to embarrassingly overshadow his lack thereof; if the way you’re making him feel is enough to go off of. He lets you keep going, wetting his neck and finally making your way back to his mouth, his eyes open in minor shock when you push your tongue down his throat but close again as he lets you lead. Cole can feel the hand he has pressed to the wall start sizzling, eyes opening to the burn mark he’s made on the tarnished wall. He feels you release him to inspect the sound and he can’t let you know he’s a red. It would physically kill him to give you the knowledge that he was unlucky enough to be the exception to the age cut off of IAAN. So what he does next honestly will take his ego a million years to recover.

Cole moves the hand on the wall to the back of your skull, locking you in place as he loudly pants into your mouth to distract you. If he was anyone but Cole, but the man you had an infatuation on, he knows this obnoxious moaning would be a turn off rather than a turn on. And he lets himself relish in it for a second, let’s himself obsess over the fact that anything he does—enchants you. And he allows himself to love it.

Cole tightens his grip on your thighs and hauls your bodies back, sauntering over to the bed.

You can’t actually believe this is happening.

You. Cole. You and Cole. You and Cole kissing.

This must be a reward from the universe for your good deed today. Thank you Kalil and Priya, you chant in your head.

Cole is the most gentle you’ve seen him. Paying extra detail to the way he handles you. He’s hovering above you like a hunter to prey, but in this minute he’s caring for you like no other.

His hands smooth down your sides, reaching the bottom of your shirt. He leans off your mouth to attach his lips to your ear, whispering, “do you mind?”

Mind? Do I mind? You almost tell him he can do whatever the hell he wants with you for as long as he pleases in a love induced hysteria but you choke out a “no” and he pulls your shirt off of you.

You watch Cole breathe you in, his flushed cheeks painting his pale skin. You think he looks a little shy but you brush it off, there’s no way Cole’s ever shy.

Cole grabs your hands and sets it on his hips, wanting you to mimic his actions.

And oh my God, you’re UNDRESSING COLE STEWART.

His shirt is off in the next second, your tops thrown to the ground. You graze up his chest, liking the way his abs constrict with his inhales. You take notice of his light pink nipples, the color complimenting the rest of his complexion.

He stops your gawking with his tongue, teeth clashing in a dominating battle.

What happens that night is both a curse and a blessing.

Something between you and Cole had changed.

You’re not quite sure if it’s for better or worse.

It’s now been a week into your way across the United States. Two days since that fateful night, and five since the beginning. You and Cole have reached your designated safehouse (re: apartment) and already called your rooms.

Now a matter of wait before you embark on Leda Corp’s doors.

Your Leda ID badges were waiting for you on the coffee table, stolen from two Michigan native employees who were supposed to start this month, but had received a call from their Leda to let them know they won’t be needing their services anymore.

That call being from the league. In reality, Leda will be needing services. Just not from those two.

Your ID reads “Inanna Sparks,” one of the mentioned employees. And when you tilt your head to catch a glimpse of Cole’s, you see a “Spencer D. Sparks.”

Huh, they must’ve been married.

You and Cole don’t talk for the two day wait period. It’s awkward and suffocating getting used to live with someone else, even when you know this will all end sooner rather than later.

You’re just begging for your first official day to start.

The first day on the job takes you back to the time of your capture. The ceiling in this base is higher, but all Leda Corp facilities look almost identical. You're dressed in a tight, office pencil dress. The cloth muted in color. Your lab coat hangs off your body almost perfectly, copying the perfect fit of your shoes.

When you had impatiently waited for Cole in the morning, heels repeatedly tapped the ground. You swear he paused from your outfit. No doubt taken aback.

Surveying his clothes, a blue button up tucked into grey slacks. An identical to your lab coat hanging from his shoulders.

“They sure didn’t hold back with your wardrobe.” He commented, blue eyes diverting back to his pockets to fish out the car keys. Undoubtedly trying to conceal the hunger that resides in his chest.

“Can’t say the same for you. You look plain.”

“Haha, very funny.”

You were doing a day’s work, fingers memorizing the smooth feeling of the keys. Everytime your coworkers call out to you to remind you of your break, you let them know you wouldn’t be taking one to appear as if you’d not want to disappoint. When you were really trying your damn best to get into their software.

Fuck, when did their system get so advanced?

You didn’t see much of Cole, or Spencer you should say. Spencer, your husband. Since he worked in another department, but you know you’ll be clocking out together. Making your way to your temporary home.

Twelve days into your op, you hit a breakthrough. You finally broke down their firewalls and made your way into their files containing everything they had on IAAN. And when you say everything, you mean everything.

Quickly log out your assigned computer and stand from your desk. Heels clicking the ground as you make your way out of the lab.

Where did Cole say he worked again?

You maneuver your way through the white halls, the smell reminding you of a busy hospital.

You turn a corner and bump into a solid chest, head banging against it so hard you see stars.

“Sorry!” You murmur, and keep your head down as you attempt to walk by them.

“Sweetheart, it’s me.”

You spin on your heel to face him.

“Cole! I was just trying to find you.”

“I know, I felt your want two miles away.”

You’re offended and lightly shove him back, his hands coming up to stop your wrists.

“I’m being serious. I think I found what we need.”

“You found the,” he stops himself. He analyzes the hallway before deeming it unsafe to conversate. Grabbing your forearm as he drags you to a room he’s somehow acquainted with.

Shutting the door behind him, Cole starts blurting his question.

“The cure. You found the cure to IAAN?”

You nod brainlessly, skull moving up and down in a swift motion.

Cole permits out a sound mixed between a laugh, and gasp. Overjoyed with your share of research.

He licks his lips and runs his hand through his now slightly longer, short hair.

“Okay, okay this is what we’re going to do. We’re going to sneak in through the back tomorrow and download everything we need and then get the hell out of here.”

Cole still looks in shock. You know he’s excited about the information. Already brimming with curiosity.

He notices you eyeing him and you feel sparks fly in the room. Your breathing is the only audible thing ricocheting off the walls.

And then he kisses you. He kisses you so hard your legs give out. That doesn’t deter him though, because he just moves to hold you up by your waist. Lifting you slightly off the ground, a singular stiletto slipping off your feet.

You hear the door swing open and a throat clear. Cole moves away from you after he knows you’re able to hold your own weight. You kneel down to fix your shoe, and move back up to hastily tidy your coat.

The man at the door is slightly older, glasses perched on his large nose. He looks disappointed and disgusted at your unprofessional behavior.

“Please, pick another room next time.”

And he walks out.

Cole spins around to you and feels the need to explain himself.

“I didn’t know what else to do. We would’ve look suspicious—”

You hope he doesn’t see the sadness in your face as you lift your arm up to stop him.

“I know..I know. It’s…okay.”

“..is it?”

Cole rolls his eyes, and you know he’s about to pick an argument.

“So what? You just let me kiss you and we won’t talk about it?”

You’re bewildered and are at a loss for words.

“It was for the mission what is there to say..you’re the one who kissed me.”

His features are enraged, mouth curled into a snarl. You know his fists are closed without even having to take a sneak.

“Oh, so was having sex for the mission too?”

Cole knows he crossed the line when you step so far back away from him, he thinks you’re ready to sprint out the door.

He knows he crossed the line. Distinctly because he’s the one that said nothing will happen between you. He didn’t even have to imply it your first night together. He practically painted a sign and attached it to your figure with the words Hey! yeah I’m talking to you loser! We’ll never be together!!

You purse your lips to hold back the water in your eyes.

You don’t even give him the satisfaction of a reply and walk out the door.

You and Cole don’t make up till the night after your break in of Leda Corp.

You guys make your way back to your apartment and you watch as Cole sews the flash drive into his jacket.

He lifts it into the air with a content smile, displaying a startling resemblance of rafiki with simba.

“And there we go. Covert op finished with a breeze.”

Cole finishes with hesitance, bothered by your lack of enthusiasm.

As if fed up with your attitude, he drops the jacket to stand up. Feet taking him to sit in the sofa across from you.

“Come onnn, what’s it going to take for you to talk to me again?”

“An apology, perhaps.” You glare.

He swings his head side to side and tongues his cheek.

“Okay, totally fair,

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said and I was wrong and I shouldn’t have let myself get so angry.”

You know he’s guilty from the way you see the fidgeting of his right fingers. The noticeable tick you picked up on your first few hours driving together.

You face your lap with your hands clasped together. Not wanting to look at Cole in fear you’ll forgive him.

But he’s persistent, you’ll give him that. As he gets up to kneel in front of you, strong hands making themselves at home on your face.

“Please sweetheart, please forgive me.”

He plays dirty.

He’s aware of your feelings for him and he manipulates himself in ways to appease you. Not ever letting you escape from his grasps.

He plays dirty, yet you don’t care.

You lean in and he waits impatiently for you to connect. Cole smiles into the kiss and licks into your mouth, your tongues binding themselves together.

You kiss, and kiss, and kiss until the loud ringing of a phone pours into the room.

Cole ignores it and proceeds to lose himself in you, but you don’t. You delicately propel his shoulders back, disconnecting with a string of saliva.

“Cole..you should get that.”

He composes himself and nods once, then twice and then for a third time.

“Ye..ah. Yeah I should go do that.”

His feet catch on the carpet, staggering him.

You’re afraid the phone will stop ringing before he reaches it, but are pleased when you hear him answer with a breathless “hello?”

It’s quiet for a few odd moments before an alarmed Cole is practically yelling into the phone.

“Liam? I thought you were at a camp—”

Liam must’ve interrupted his sentence because Cole is quiet again. Eyebrows furrowed in concern for the boy on the other side of the phone.

“Just…stay low. Meet me here at this address. __ ___ ____ ___. Apartment 53. And please, for the love of God. Do not get caught.”

He hangs up and his hands move to play with his hair.

“Change of plans, we have to stay here for a couple days longer.”

When you meet Liam, you thought you were seeing double.

He stands paranoid next to Cole, untrusting of you. His blond hair is lighter than Cole’s. Straws of yellow reaching his ears.

You know he’s only acting this way because he’s down right terrified of adults. League agents in particular.

Cole rolls his eyes with irritation at his brother’s antics. Apparently uncaring of why.

“Lee, stop being weird. You’re scaring her.”

His brother fixes him with a glare so enraged, you’re afraid he’s going to pounce on him.

“I’m scaring her? You brought me into a house with a league agent. I’m the one shitting my pants!”

Again, Cole rolls his eyes and makes his way into his room. Not before calling out, “I’m league too, or did life on the run knock some screws loose little brother?”

You examine Liam as he regards his brother, no doubt pissed to oblivion.

“You are such a jerk.”

“This jerk is the reason why you’re not cuffed up, fifty miles away in a car making it down to a camp. You’re welcome.”

Liam gets quiet after that. Obviously thankful for his brother, but still mad.

Cole is back in the living room with his boots laced on his feet. Keys thrown back and forth between his hands.

“I’m going to go pick us up some food. You two, play nice.”

And with that Cole leaves.

You wished you had stopped him though. You wished you had done anything but call out a quick bye, words covered with fondness.

You didn’t know Liam’s presence would be Cole’s demise

The last time you and Liam saw Cole was when his lean body was shoved aggressively into a government van. Outcome from the fact that Liam was noticed by your nosy, elderly bitch of a neighbor.

You didn’t even get to stop Liam from running away with the wrong jacket.

The jacket with the flash drive.

It wasn’t long before Cole was back at the Los Angeles league base. Safely rescued by the infamous orange Ruby Daly and her blue teammate, Vida Bautista.

Cole was grateful for the rescue. He’s no damsel, but it would’ve been one hell of a pain in the ass if he had to get himself out. He’s glad he’s important enough in the league that they even considered retrieving him. If it was anyone else, he’s sure they would’ve been six feet under by now. Long forgotten by the same organization they endangered their lives for.

Cole was grateful to Ruby for the rescue.

What he wasn’t grateful for were her words of urgency as she kept repeating the same two words, tangles of her mind deep in his.

“The flash drive. Cole, the flash drive.”

And damn, he knows he should be trying his very best to think of that stupid little thing, but he’s finally back and he hasn’t seen a glimpse of you.

Now he’s imaging you. How you’ll react when you know he’s safe and sound. Maybe you’ll do a little squeal and jump in his hands, eyes sparkling with affection for him.

He thinks back to your three weeks together. The fighting, the bickering, the kissing.

When he remembers someone was currently into the depths of his mind, living the memories he’s replaying along with him it’s too late.

He blushes a crimson so red, and stutters out an apology you wouldn’t believe this was the same Cole three weeks ago.

He sees Ruby regard him in disgust and watches her walk out.

He calls out “sorry!” to Alban for his lack of participation in Ruby’s mindhunt and follows her out.

They pass the showers without her noticing he’s trailing behind her and he shoves her into the bathroom with the little force he can muster with his injuries.

Cole draws the curtain and turns on the faucet.

Ruby reminds him of Liam; the way these two are so paranoid beyond belief. He fights her off him when she moves to attack him. Which was his fault really, maybe he shouldn’t have been manhandling traumatized girls.

“Calm down! I’m here to talk about Liam!”

He can tell she knows her jig is up from her attempt to act clueless of this “Liam” he knows they both know.

He listens as she tries to scold him on something about bringing his brother back into the league. The infatuation she has for Liam is so plainly obvious.

He tells her his old address in North Carolina and sends this teenage girl on a wild goose chase for his jerkass little brother.

When Ruby walks her legs to leave, she turns to him with a scornful expression.

“Instead of teasing me about your brother, maybe you should put on your big boy pants and figure out whatever the hell you have with that girl. The girl from your op.”

She sadistically smiles at the way his features drop. He hates that this girl can enter and leave his mind as she pleases—literally.

And with a bounce of her black curly hair, she walks out the showers.

Cole takes this time to himself. Leaning back on the stall.

He doesn’t get to relax for long before the curtain opens again and he sees you.

“What were you doing in here with that girl? You know she’s sixteen right?”

God, how he missed you. You with your feelings, not all of them innocent but all so sweet. You with your jealousy. You with your little bursts of anger.

You could almost punch an already beaten up Cole for the way he laughs at you. Not taking you seriously.

“Relax, I was filling her in about Liam. Showers are the only place not recorded.”

You’re embarrassed at your over exaggeration and drop your shoulders.

“Oh.”

“Yeah..oh.”

You move to place a hand on his shoulder and for the first time, he lets you. You move it to his face and he leans into your touch.

“I’ve missed you.”

You don’t understand why Cole denies himself of this. Of your love for him. You know he wants you too, otherwise he wouldn’t have happily participated in all of your frivolous activities.

You see the moment he pulls back. Shields himself from feeling any longer.

And you can’t take it anymore.

“Why are you like this?”

“…Like what?”

“Like an asshole! Are you playing with me? That has got to be the only explanation. You let me kiss you and touch you, you get mad when we don’t talk about it and when we do, you get mad at that too. So what’s it going to be this time?”

You must’ve hit an already exposed nerve because Cole looks close to strangling you.

“Why can’t you understand we can’t be together.”

“And who’s saying that?”

“I’m saying that. I am. Sweetheart, take a look around. How can we focus on us, when the u.s has turned to shit and we’re fucking with the government every second of the day.”

You stubbornly turn to the water droplets sliding down the wall, your wet clothes sticking to your body. The small container you both are in is fogging up with steam.

“That doesn’t stop other people so I’m not sure why that should stop us.”

He stands to his full height, and he’s still so mad. You don’t like when he’s mad. Especially at you.

“Because other people aren’t reds!”

Chills cover your body despite the heat of the shower. A puzzle scatters in your broken relationship with Cole, yet there is finally that one missing piece, waiting to be put together.

“But..you’re twenty-one?”

He laughs, though he doesn’t find it all that funny.

“Unlucky me.”

You shake your head and motion to grab him, but Cole doesn’t let you. He walks backwards, minding his step to not slip on the water.

“Cole, I don’t care what you are. I love you, and I’ll always love you. And even if you don’t love me back, I don’t care. I just want you to allow yourself to feel what you feel for me.”

Cole’s in torment.

He doesn’t like hurting you, he doesn’t know why he does it. He’s scared of losing control. Every Time he’s angry, he can feel the little flame in his chest waiting to explode in a hot fire.

“I’ll hurt you. Hell, I’ve already been hurting you.”

“Cole, you can hurt me till my heart physically cannot handle it anymore and I’d still choose you.”

You know that’s what breaks him because he runs to you. Pouring all his desires into you as you become one. His bruised hands are roaming on your body, anywhere you’ll let him.

And that’s everywhere.

You love Cole.

Cole saved your life not once, but twice. Your own personal knight in shining armour anywhere you went.

You love his short hair. The color of the sandy beach. And you love his ocean blue eyes even more. His thin lips and high cheekbones, strong arms and long legs.

You love everything about him.

You love Cole.

And Cole loves you.

© kisscastellan | all rights reserved

[yayabee]

study sessions

robin arellano (tbp) x reader

note: this is my first oneshot post, don't make fun of me! lol!

one day, the student council decided to think it was a good idea to start a peer tutor program to help other students that were struggling with certain subjects. so you decided to join, (for the extra credit heh) and got assigned to a student that was struggling with math: robin arellano.

you knew him, he was kinda popular— well, because he was known for being "most toughest kid in school" well, second most, aside from vance hopper of course.

math class had just ended, and your next period was study hall—tutoring time. robin was packing up his things, ready to leave, when decided to talk to him.

robin was packing up his things, and you caught the briefest flicker of irritation cross his face when he glanced in your direction. he knew. of course, he knew.

as he headed toward the door, you stepped forward, calling out before you could second-guess yourself.

"hey, robin arellano, right?"

he stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face you. his eyes locked on yours, and you swore the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees.

"yeah,"

he said, his tone flat but laced with something sharp.

"i‘m your tutor,"

you said, keeping your voice steady, though your heart was racing.

robin scoffed, the sound low and rough, as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

"yeah, I figured. they don’t exactly keep this stuff a secret."

he wasn’t making this easy, but then again, you hadn’t expected him to.

"so...should we get started?"

you asked, gesturing toward an empty table near the back of the room.

for a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. finally, he shrugged.

"lead the way."

it wasn’t much of an invitation, but you took it. as you both sat down, you caught a few curious glances from other students, but you tried to ignore them. robin, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care.

"so, how bad we talking?" you asked.

robin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"bad enough," he said.

you snickered, pulling out your messy notebook and pencil case.

"alright, bad enough doesn’t scare me. let’s see what we’re working with."

as you flipped through your notebook, robin leaned closer, his arm brushing yours lightly.

"you call this organized?"

he asked, gesturing to your notes with a raised eyebrow.

"hey, don’t judge. it works for me,"

you said, narrowing your eyes at him playfully, cheekily smiling.

"if you say so,"

he said, leaning back again, but his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than you expected.

"alright, let’s start with the basics,"

you said, scribbling a quick problem on a scrap of paper and sliding it toward him.

"show me how you’d solve this."

robin stared at the problem, his lips pressing into a thin line. after a moment, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"uh...I don’t even know where to start."

you smiled softly.

"that’s fine. we’ll go step by step. here—watch."

you leaned closer to explain, your shoulder brushing against his. you were so focused on the problem that you didn’t notice how quiet he’d gotten until you looked up and saw him watching you.

"what?" you asked, blinking.

robin quickly looked away, scratching the back of his neck.

"nothing. just...you’re kinda good at this," he mumbled.

you rolled your eyes playfully, a smirk tugging at your lips.

"tsk, I told you to watch me solve the problem, not my face."

robin scoffed lightly, but before he could respond, you added with a teasing grin,

"i know i’m pretty, but your grades are way more important, yeah?"

he blinked at you, momentarily stunned, before a quiet laugh escaped him. "you’re ridiculous," he muttered, shaking his head, but the faint smile on his face betrayed him.

as the session went on, robin started to relax. he even cracked a few jokes that made you laugh, and every time he got an answer right, he’d glance at you for approval, almost like he didn’t realize he was doing it.

by the end of the period, you were both packing up when he reached over and grabbed one of your pens that had rolled off the desk.

"here,"

he said, holding it out.

"thanks,"

you said, taking it from him, your fingers brushing briefly.

robin hesitated, then smirked.

"don’t lose it. you’re gonna need it for our next session."

you raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips.

"confident we’ll survive another one, huh?"

"maybe," he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"you’re not half bad, Y/N."

it wasn’t much, but the way he said it made your chest feel just a little lighter. as he walked out, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. maybe this tutoring thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[earthtooz]

WELL, SINCE YOU DONT MIND~

a scenario in which reader gets writers block and xiao appears and xiao professes his undying love for us and we kiss him and hold hands and share almond tofu under the stars and we get married is a very cute idea and 10/10 plot. definitely the best idea to ever be thought of

FLUFF, xiao being xiao, reader is poet, i've never played genshin ever, i got spammed with this so much that i decided to give up and give in. @sixosix, for you, my little sibling xx

"what are you doing here? it's late." 

the sudden voice shocks you from the leather-bound notebook that you were previously writing in, so caught off guard by the intrusion that your pencil slips from your grasp, falling through the cracks of wangshu inn’s balcony. you’re about to curse out your own inability when a sudden gust of wind swirls around you, followed by a flash of blue. 

then, a pencil is outstretched towards you- your pencil, in xiao’s hand. 

“thank you,” you murmur, stunned. 

“like i said, what are you doing here?” the adeptus repeats, demanding for an answer.

retracting your legs that were previously dangling over the edge and closing your notebook with a defeated slam, he notices the look of defeat that graces your expression as you look out at the horizon.

“i’m trying to find inspiration for a new poem,” you murmur. “although i wasn’t very successful, i thought coming up the wangshu inn might have inspired me. sorry for overstepping on your turf.”

glancing up and meeting his golden eyes, you ignore the heavy pounding of your heart and pressurising of your blood rate; two feats that only xiao was able to accomplish. 

unlike your internal meltdown, his hardened expression doesn’t change with your complaints, in fact, xiao doesn’t even acknowledge them, heartlessly brushing over your predicament. “you shouldn’t be out here for much longer though, once it’s night the plagues will be out, and it’ll be dangerous.”

“i know, i know. no need to remind me.”

a beat of silence passes. you don’t make a move to get up. xiao doesn’t make a move to kick you out. instead, he takes a seat beside you, keeping his distance. “i didn’t know you write,” he mutters, the slight tilt in his voice betraying the disinterest he previously showed towards your predicament.

momentarily surprised by his curiosity, you nervously fiddle with the binder of your book. “oh, it’s just for fun,” you murmur, glancing away. “something i do to take my mind off of things.” 

he doesn’t say anything in response, the flicking of delicate paper pages fill the atmosphere instead. you wish you could peer into his mind to see what he is thinking so that you could have the easy conversations that you share with other people. however, for xiao, the only thing to discuss is nothing.

glancing aside, the unfinished almond tofu that you bought from the merchants sit beside you. as much as you’d like to finish the delicacy, your constant frustration with your inability to conjure up words diminished your appetite. there is one solution, but you feel a little foolish asking, “would you like some almond tofu?” to the blue-haired beside you sits up a little.

“i shouldn’t,” he mutters dejectedly when looking at the platter you pass to him. “you have it.”

“i can’t finish it, that’s why i offered. why don’t you help me out by finishing it for me?” you slide it across to him. 

with obvious hesitance, he complies. you look away when he takes a bite, the sight too oddly intimate and rare for some poet like you. how rewarding it is to do something for someone like xiao.

it’s silent once again as you both watch the setting sun, the colours melting into one another whilst dusk’s purple dominates and claims its turn in the sky. it takes the first star to appear before you mention leaving, especially now that the cicin’s are beginning to emerge, but more importantly, you’re surprised that xiao hasn’t told you off.

declaring your departure, xiao mimics you and stands up, tightly holding onto his spear.

“i’ll walk you home.”

“no- it’s okay!” you squeak, surprised by his decision. his golden eyes flicker to you, almost in warning that you shouldn’t argue back because he’s already made up his mind. “i shouldn’t bother you from your duties. thank you though-”

“-you don’t live far. it won’t be too inconvenient. besides, walking you home and fighting off potential demons is still doing my job.” he walks away, but not before turning over his shoulder to reassure that “i’ll protect you.”

he leads you down the inn and walks in front of you whilst leading you home, outstretching a hand in front of you whenever he thinks you might need his assistance down particular staircases or hills. you know you shouldn’t touch him, but the urge is there, and incredibly overwhelming, especially with each subtle flex of his muscles that are illuminated by the moonlight.

(you wonder if he does this with anyone else. judging by the rumours and talk that surround him, his apathy, and uptight front, you wouldn’t think so, yet here you are, being protecting by the legendary and fleeting xiao.)

the night is disturbingly silent, as if the archons had decreed that no inconvenience shall bother the two of you in this moment, but the peace is far from unwelcomed.

when your home appears in your view, you turn to face him with a reluctant smile, a little sad to leave, but very grateful for his time nonetheless.

“thank you for walking me home, xiao. i really appreciate it,” you mutter into the quiet night. 

“don’t thank me. if you ever need me, just call my name and i’ll be there,” he promises. you don’t even get to say anything in response before he puts on his mask and teleports away, all done in the blink of an eye and leaving your mind in a hurricane of questions you want answered.

for a second, you wonder if he was ever there, but the fading blue particles tell you that he indeed was.

shutting your door with a quiet click, you sigh out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding before scrambling to your kitchen table, frantically opening your book to whatever blank page you could find. 

‘i’ll protect you’. 

you definitely need to take your mind off this evening. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[satureja13]

And while Saiwa, Jack and Ji Ho stay at home, Jeb, Kiyoshi and Vlad went to the Temple to help Arturo. All of them silently agree it's best to keep Kiyoshi away from Jack until he healed. It's a long way to go for Jack. Even though he says he's fine. We all know he isn't. It would even be better if they parted ways. But Other Jeb's message makes this impossible. No one wants to take the risk of some of them getting hurt - let alone be killed.

Vlad joined Team Kiyoshi. Jack is Vlad's best friend and this wasn't an easy decision to make for Vlad - but he and Kiyoshi grew very close at Belgraves Institute. They shared a room and ran their penalty laps at the sports ground. They slept next to Jack's pod when he was in his coma. And in the end Kiyoshi had to betray Vlad to the Council to maintain Kiyoshi's camouflage.

Vlad knows that Ji Ho and Saiwa take good care of Jack and that Kiyoshi is having a hard time now since he became a diety, had been banned from Kojin's Temple and lost Jack. And no one, except for Jeb, knows how to deal with him after they learned that Kiyoshi was Jack's Alpha and fated mate and kind of co-responsible for Jack's misery. And that Kiyoshi had been sent by his father to the Lab to torture captured Jack and Saiwa. And rescued them in the end. It hadn't been easy for Kiyoshi either with all his duties for the temple, the resistance and the council. He didn't hurt Jack on purpose. They just didn't know better and couldn't act better. He can't be mad at Kiyoshi. Maybe it was because they were too young and unexperienced or it just wasn't meant to be - yet. Fate doesn't make mistakes and Vlad is determined to help both of them.

Kiyoshi cared for the saplings of his Tree. And when he touched the little one Jack had lit with some kind of magic, it hit him like a bolt - again. This is a sign. Kiyoshi is sure. As a werewolf, Jack isn't capable of doing such magic. This has to mean something. Jack is his fated mate. Kiyoshi will give Jack all the time he needs to heal - but he will never give up on him. He tried it - for decades while he'd been in the tree - futile.

Mood is gloomy and everyone was working in silence lost in their own thoughts. Vlad thought he could try Jack's puppy strategy to light up the mood a bit. So he started to tell some funny stories of the times they hadn't been all together. Vlad: "... and when Jeb and Ji Ho had already left to do their school project at Mount Komorebi, Jack insisted to put me on my gloves! I had been blind then, but I still was capable to put on my gloves. And then I made fun of him because he wore a fur jacket! A werewolf in a fur jacket! And then Kiyoshi said: 'I like fur'. Somehow I knew that something was going on between you two." Jeb was cutting the planks, had the pencil between his teeth and chuckled. He repeated 'I like fur' because he thought it was so cute and funny of Kiyoshi. But since he had the pencil between his teeth, it was gibberish.

Arturo froze: "What did you just say?"

Jeb, gibberish: "I like fur?"

Arturo: "Gods - it sounds like the last words from the Master! 'I like bird'!"

Jeb: "I think everything sounds the same when you have a pencil in your mouth while speaking ^^'" Arturo: "True hahaha." Little Goat: 'Hello?!'' omg...

After their work at the Temple, they sat down to eat. Arturo: "Vlad, why don't you take a plate and give it a try?" Vlad: "Ah, I'm sorry but I'm a vampire and can't digest food. I get sick if I do and live off of plasma packs and fruit."

Arturo: "I aware of that - but I also feel your strong craving for food. Other vampires just ignore it." Vlad: "Oh I'd been able to ignore it all my live - until... I drank Ji Ho's blood... and when I came back from hell after I died, I started to smell the incredible odors and had a hard time not giving in and try some ever since."

Arturo: "A lot of things changed after you drank mermaid's blood, hm? Why not you digesting food? Give it a try." Vlad: "Uhm - ok..." It smelled so amazing, Vlad thought it was worth getting sick.

And this is how Vlad tried his first food!

And it seems he likes it!

Oh my Arturo was right - Vlad yould have eaten food since he bit Ji Ho September 2022! And even though he knew he'd changed a lot and craved for it, he never tried - because he was afraid and convinced it would make him sick. This sounds trivial but made him think a lot. What else could he have experienced since then and never tried? And how much has Ji Ho changed him? But before he could follow his thoughts any further, it hit him! Hot hot HOT!!! Arturo: "Maybe Burmesan Samosa Soup wasn't a good choice for your first meal ^^'"

But it was. Vlad will never forget this - his first meal. And it will remind him to be bolder and try new things and not hide behind his fears! (Hear, Hear!)

After lunch Arturo went for a walk with them. He has an idea wow they can make up with the others.

And after a hard day's work, they gathered at the fire. Arturo was pondering all afternoon about 'I like bird' and 'I like fur'... (Try it yourself, it really sounds the same!) Arturo: "Kiyoshi - who did you think about before you became one with the tree?" Kiyoshi: "Jack. I've never been able to forget him. Even when I felt nothing else anymore, I still felt him."

Arturo: "I have a weird inkling: maybe your last words weren't 'I like Bird' but 'I like Fur'? Because Jack is a werewolf? Or you thought of that experience with the fur jacket?" Jeb: "When Kiyoshi thought of Jack and not of Saiwa before he left and Saiwa isn't his fated mate but Jack... Gods - I urged Sai into this fake relationship with Kiyoshi to bring him back because we thought Kiyoshi's last thoughts were about Sai... Saiwa will kill us all." (Omg... ö.Ö') And there's no way not to tell him because they all agreed to be honest to each other...

'I know your eyes in the morning sun I feel you touch me in the pouring rain And the moment that you wander far from me I wanna feel you in my arms again And you come to me on a summer breeze Keep me warm in your love, then you softly leave And it's me you need to show

How deep is your love? I really mean to learn 'Cause we're living in a world of fools Breaking us down when they all should let us be We belong to you and me

I believe in you You know the door to my very soul You're the light in my deepest, darkest hour You're my savior when I fall And you may not think I care for you When you know down inside that I really do And it's me you need to show'

How deep is your love? - The Bee Gees

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🛺 'Home happy Home' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[mrsxco]

You Looking?

Pairing: FratBoy!Hajun x Park!Reader

[Warnings]: Teasing. Swearing. Fingering. Dirty talk. Pet names. Mentions of Seo-Joon (yes, that's a warning) Note: IM BACK my tumblr did not want to work with like it was being such a hoeeee but guys I'm back and I am proud to say that I have 2 projects coming along. YAHHHHHHHHH! But tell me what's your favourite song from JENNIE's Ruby album? Me: Seoul City, Filter, ZEN Playing: Attention - Doja Cat

════════════════════════════════════ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　 ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹

"Hey, little mouse, got a second?" Ha-Jun called out, poking his head into the study room.

"Just one more page," the soft voice of Park Y/N replied, her eyes glued to the textbook in front of her. She was surrounded by a fortress of notes, her tiny fingers scribbling away on a pad, lost in the world of equations and diagrams. Ha-Jun, the notorious frat boy, leaned against the doorframe, watching her with a mix of amusement and something else—admiration maybe? Her determination to juggle her studies with the chaotic frat house life was something he hadn't seen before.

"It's pretty important," he said, pushing off the doorframe and walking in. The floorboards groaned under his weight, but Y/N barely looked up, her pencil moving faster across the paper. Ha-Jun felt a twinge of annoyance. He was used to being the center of attention, but here she was, ignoring him for... calculus?

Y/N sighed, finally glancing up from her work. "What's up, Ha-Jun?" she asked, her voice strained with the effort of focusing on something other than her exam prep. Ha-Jun grinned, flashing his dimples. "I need your help," he said, his tone casual but the urgency in his eyes betraying his words. Y/N's eyebrows shot up, curiosity winning out over her irritation.

"With what?" she asked, setting her pencil down and closing her textbook with a snap. Ha-Jun leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Remember the party we're throwing tomorrow?" He paused, watching as understanding dawned on her face. "Yeah, I remember," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What's the problem?"

"Well," Ha-Jun began, his voice dropping even further, "I might've gone a bit overboard with the guest list." He held up his phone to show her the screen, which was filled with the names of what looked like half the college. Y/N's eyes widened. "A bit?" she echoed, disbelief coloring her tone. "This is a disaster waiting to happen!"

Her heart began to race as she thought about the potential chaos. The house was already a mess, and they had a strict curfew. If they got caught, they'd be in deep trouble with their landlord and the college. But Ha-Jun just shrugged it off. "That's why I need you, little mouse," he said, his smile never wavering. "You're good with... organizing things."

Y/N looked at the guest list on Ha-Jun's phone, her mind racing through the possible repercussions. "What the hell, Ha-Jun?" she muttered under her breath, her eyes scanning the never-ending names. "You're gonna get us kicked out!"

"Don't be so dramatic," he teased, ruffling her hair. "We've pulled off parties like this before." He stepped closer, his chest brushing against her chair. "Remember the time you had to hide Seo-Joon in the laundry room?" He winked at her, using her ex-boyfriend's name like a hot poker, knowing it would get a reaction. She felt her cheeks heat up and swatted his hand away.

"That's different," she protested, her voice rising. "This isn't just some random bash. This is... This is..." But she couldn't find the words to express the magnitude of his mistake. Ha-Jun just chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You're the brains of the operation, Park. Figure it out." He leaned down, his breath tickling her ear. "Besides, I need you to keep an eye on things. You know how those college bros get when they're drunk."

The mention of Seo-Joon brought a sour taste to her mouth. The thought of her ex at one of Ha-Jun's parties was enough to make her want to cancel the whole thing. But she knew that wouldn't fly with Ha-Jun. He was counting on her, and she couldn't let him down. "Fine," she snapped, snatching the phone out of his hand. "But you're gonna owe me big time for this."

With a smug grin, Ha-Jun leaned back against the wall. "Oh, you know I will," he said, his voice dropping to a seductive purr. "But for now, let's just focus on the party."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the way her stomach fluttered at the way he said it. She knew he didn't mean it in that way, but the way his eyes danced with excitement, the way he called her his little mouse, it all made her feel... something. Something she hadn't felt since she'd walked away from Seo-Joon and his controlling ways.

"Alright, let's break it down," she said, switching gears. "We need to manage the guest list, clean up the house, and make sure we don't get caught." She ticked off the tasks on her fingers. "And you," she pointed at Ha-Jun, "you're going to have to keep your mouth shut about... certain things."

"What certain things?" he feigned innocence, his eyes glinting with amusement. She narrowed her gaze, and he held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine," he said, his smile fading into a more serious expression. "But I'm not the one who has to deal with the aftermath if we don't get this right."

The tension in the room thickened, and Y/N felt a strange thrill at the challenge ahead. They had to pull this off—not just for the party, but to prove that she wasn't just some weak, easily-distracted little mouse. She was capable of handling this, even if it meant dealing with the chaos that was Ha-Jun.

"Okay," she said, her voice firm. "Let's do this." Ha-Jun nodded, his grin returning. "Good. Now, let's talk about the real important stuff. What are we gonna wear?"

Y/N couldn't help but smile at his antics, despite the stress. It was going to be a long night, but she had a feeling that with Ha-Jun by her side, it would be one she'd never forget. And maybe, just maybe, she'd finally get him to see her as more than just his reliable little study buddy.

"You're lucky I'm not going to kill you for this," she muttered, her eyes scanning the guest list once more. Ha-Jun leaned over her shoulder, his warm breath teasing her neck. "Aw, come on," he said, his voice low and playful. "You know you love a good challenge."

"This isn't a challenge," she shot back, swatting at him again. "This is a disaster waiting to happen." But she couldn't deny the thrill that shot through her when he called her his little mouse. It was a pet name she'd grown to love, even if it was born out of his teasing.

"Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while," he whispered, his hand finding hers on the desk. He traced her knuckles with his thumb, sending a shiver down her spine. "How about I let you choose the theme for the next party?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn't ignore the way her heart skipped a beat. "Fine," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "But for now, let's get to work."

They spent hours planning, their heads bent together over the desk, surrounded by a mess of crumpled papers and half-empty cups of coffee. The tension between them grew, tight as a bowstring ready to snap. Y/N's eyes kept drifting to Ha-Jun's hand on her desk, his thumb tapping an erratic rhythm. She knew he wasn't thinking about the party anymore, not with the way his eyes kept dropping to her lips, the way he leaned in closer and closer.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She slammed her hand down on the guest list, making him jump. "What the fuck, Ha-Jun?" she snapped, her voice echoing in the quiet room. He blinked at her, his eyes wide and innocent. "What?"

"You know what," she said, her voice low. "You're driving me crazy." Ha-Jun leaned back, his smile smug. "Am I?" He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, if you're not gonna focus on the party, we might as well do something else."

Before she could react, he'd spun her chair around, pushing her back and straddling her. His hands gripped the arms of the chair, trapping her in place. "What the hell are you doing?" she gasped, her heart racing. But she knew. She could feel the heat between her legs, the ache that had been building all night.

"I'm gonna make you forget about that fucking exam," he murmured, his breath hot against her neck. "And maybe even that asshole Seo-Joon." He ground his hips against her, and she couldn't help but whimper. "You know you want it, little mouse."

Her hands found their way to his shirt, gripping the fabric as she pulled him closer. "Fuck," she breathed, her body betraying her. He chuckled, his hand sliding up her thigh. "That's the spirit."

He kissed her then, hard and demanding, his tongue delving into her mouth as if he owned it. She moaned into the kiss, her hips bucking up to meet his. He tasted like whiskey and the promise of a wild night—everything she'd been craving since she'd stepped foot in this house.

With a growl, he pulled back, his eyes dark with lust. "You're so fucking sweet," he murmured, his thumb stroking her bottom lip. "But I want to taste something even sweeter." He slid off the chair, dropping to his knees in front of her. "Spread your legs for me, baby."

Y/N's cheeks burned, but she didn't hesitate. She knew what he wanted, what she wanted. She parted her legs, and he wasted no time, his mouth on her pussy, his tongue tracing patterns that made her see stars. She bit back a scream, her hands tangling in his hair as he ate her out like a man starved.

The world outside the study room faded away, replaced by the sound of his mouth on her and the feel of his fingers sliding inside her. He talked dirty to her, whispering sweet nothings that made her core clench around his fingers. "You're so wet for me," he murmured. "You love it when I make you feel good, don't you?"

"Yes," she moaned, her voice strained. "More." He chuckled, his mouth moving faster, his fingers working their magic. She was close, so close. And when he started to use pet names—his own twisted version of sweet talk—she knew she was going to shatter. "Please," she begged, her voice a desperate whisper.

"Please what?" he taunted, his teeth grazing her clit. She bucked against him, her eyes squeezed shut. "Please, Ha-Jun," she panted. "Make me come."

He complied, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony. She came hard, her body arching off the chair, her nails digging into his scalp. And as she rode the wave of pleasure, she swore she heard him whisper, "That's my good little mouse."

[blitzosblog]

Muse

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Model!OC

Warnings: Nudity, Profanity, Sexual Acts: Oral, Teasing, Penetration

Summary: Benedict meets a beautiful new inspiration and cannot help but be captivated

Please do not interact if you are under the age of 18, the majority of my content is 18+

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

Benedict sat in the studio frustrated at the news of Anthony's sizeable donation, it made him question everything he knew; was every ounce of knowledge and passion he had gathered for art a lie, or did his family simply humour his interests. His purpose, his education, now a waste.

He stares at his blank canvas, stands from the seat he believed he earned and simply walks out of the class ignoring the calls and murmurs of his fellow artists. Walking not through the city but through the banks of the forested riverside, his supplies were tossed into his satchel hazardously and his head downturned.

Benedict freezes as he hears splashing nearby, as he edges closer to the source of the sound he sees a young woman, only a year or so younger than himself, a lady of nobility judging by her undergarments and her dress ever so neatly laid the side on the grass. She was beautiful, her hair soft and shining in the sunlight, her skin exposed as the water dampened the cloth, with such gentle features and an even gentler touch as she touched the water with the tips of her fingers barely causing a ripple in the surface.

He watches for a few moments before he is struck with inspiration, grabs his sketchbook and pencil and starts to draw her, his hand moving quickly across the page, as he looks up again she is walking away from the water dress in hand. His drawing is unfinished.

Soon Benedict found himself in a routine of wandering down to the riverbanks and having the luck of seeing this woman, however, every single chance he had been given came with the price of an unfished drawing. His evening now filled with staring at said drawings each one as incomplete as the last, a lasting reminder of his lost potential.

Again he drags himself to the riverbank only much earlier this morning as he seats himself just in time to see the woman arrive. His hand stilling as he watches the dark red cloth slip from her body, her feet gently trending along the grass as the water envelopes her, once again the cloth of her undergarment soaking through with a chilling pace. Benedict's hands move quickly to begin drawing, he finds himself desperate to complete.

As he looks up for what feels like the hundredth time he halts, where did she go? Her dress is still neatly laid on the side along with her shoes. No evidence of her in the water, however, he did not hear her movements, where did she go?

He stands his paper now falling to the ground as he looks around.

"So this is what you've been doing" He hears a feminine voice behind him and spins around to see the subject of his recent scribbles holding his papers. She looks up at him, allowing him to now see her beautiful almost glowing eyes, her features even more perfect up close. As her words are finally processed in his brain, his face burns with embarrassment.

"You knew...that I was here?" Benedict's voice betrays the confident presence he is trying to convey. The woman smiles and places the paper down on the rock Benedict was sitting on earlier.

"A lone woman would be a miss had she missed a man continuously staring at her day by day as she strolls in a river" Her reply was forward but gentle. Benedict blushes even more now before speaking.

"Yes, I suppose so. I am sorry I did not mean to disturb you or make you uncomfortable" His words came out as if he were a schoolboy again.

"I believe you. Had you wished me harm I'm sure you'd have done it much earlier instead of drawing me"

Benedict stares at her, examining every detail as if she'd disappear again "What is your name?" he asks.

"Odette, and yours sir?" She asks back.

"Benedict...Bridgerton" He smiles. The woman smiles as well causing his heart to sore.

"So Mr Bridgerton you have been drawing me all this time" She states not as a question but as fact.

"Yes..Yes, I have but I haven't had the chance to finish a single drawing as you disappear before I am to complete it...if you'd known I was present why not let me finish to picture?" He asks, not wishing to sound rude but rather just curious. The young miss smirks.

"I hoped you'd muster the courage to speak with me instead of hide away, but today I got tired of waiting" She speaks so confidently, so sure of herself and her standing. Benedict looks down and smiles.

"Perhaps you'd grant me the honour of completing my drawing now?: He asks looking back up at her as he sits on the rock placing the paper and pencil back in his hand. Odette blushes and sits on the grass opposite Benedict, finally allowing him to complete a drawing.

Benedict and Odette look upon the completed piece. Now establishing a new understanding between the two. Now Benedict and Odette would meet by the riverbank every day, sitting with one another until Benedict had his entire notebook consumed by her image.

One morning as they sat on the dewey grass Benedict looked at Odette, to find her staring at him.

"what is it?" He asks smiling at her.

"You always draw me the same" She replies, making him confused, he sets aside his materials.

"What do you mean?" He enquires as they both stare at one another. Odette stands.

"I wish for you to draw me differently.." She whisperers almost unsure of herself.

"How do you mean?" He laughs as he speaks confused by her behaviour. Odette grasps her clothes.

"Naked...draw me as I am, bare... completely bare..for you..please?" Her words were unsteady and contrasted with her usual confidence. Benedict stares for a moment laughing slightly believing she is only joking before he sees her serious face, without a word he picks up his supplies and nods.

Odette doesn't take her eyes off him as she removes what little clothing she has and bares herself to him, Bendcits eyes racking over her beauty, taking note of every curve, every blemish, every glorious detail of his muse.

"Tell me..how you wish me to pose Benedict" She whispers once more.

"lay against the rock...hand up as if you were reaching for something above your head...yes like that" He commands her gently as she moves into position. Neither of them speaks as Benedict draws, only the light rustle of trees and chirping of birds can be heard.

Hours pass and Odette doesn't dare move until she hears his voice again.

"I am done Odette" He declares and shows her the drawing, she turns her head as she sits up and takes in the image of her nude drawn in such a delicate way, her eyes cast upward towards Benedict.

"It is beautiful" She says causing Benefit to smile. Benedict slips forward towards her and strands of her hair behind her ear.

"Benedict" She whispers realising the close proximity at which they both are.

"I know...but I can't stop unless you wish me to" He confesses gently. Odette reaches forward touching his face.

"I do not wish you to stop" She replies, Bendict leans forward and kisses her. A groan of appreciation at the softness of her lips against his. Odette pulls him on top of her but Benedict stops her.

"I...I am sorry I didn-" She speaks worrying she may have done something wrong before Benedict interrupts her.

"I simply wished to remove my own clothes Odette" He replies chuckling, Benedict stands removing his clothing, revealing his own nudity to her as he lays his clothes under her as a makeshift blanket, he climbs on top of her once more.

Their lips meet, the tip of his member prodding gently at her entrance. His lips trailed wet gentle kisses along her neck, making his way down her body.

Odette watches as he disappears between her legs, gasping as his mouth connects with her most intimate parts, as his tongue explores her, devouring her like a man starved for days.

"Benedict" She moans, tangling her fingers in his hair, his hands hooked around her thighs pulling her as close as he could. She tasted like honey to him, circling her clit in a way that made her back arch and head lull to the side, her toes curling at the small shocks coursing through her body.

"Benedict!" She cried out pulling him back up with urgency as she kissed him. His cockhead teased her once again, his smirk causing her to mewl ever so slightly.

"Please...please Benedict give me more" She pleaded, he kissed her neck as he slowly pushed all the way in groaning at the feeling of her fluttering walls. He drew back slowly rutting into her.

She pulled his head back so they looked at one another. The riverbank was filled with soft moaning and breathless words of adoration. Benedict lifted her legs to his hip driving into her deeper.

"You are so beautiful my sweet Odette" He declared as he kissed her neck and whispered into her ear. hear hands scratching down his back as she whispered to him.

Odette could feel the knot in her stomach tighten as Benedict thrust into her, her toes curling once more; Benedict felt his own release approaching.

"Cum with me Odette, please" He practically begged the woman. His thrusts increased, Odette's face buried in his neck as she felt herself unravelling under him, his groaned loudly as he finally released inside her, holding her close. Neither of them moved for a moment until Benedict gently pulled himself off her.

They simply look at one another for a moment before bursting out in laughter. Benedict pulls her close wrapping his jacket around her.

"I hope this doesn't change what we have?" He asks gently, looking into her eyes, she cups his face and kisses him.

"Of course not Mr Bridgerton" She giggles as she kisses him again pushing him to the ground once more.

[magicalgirloffduty]

how do I want the world to see me, and does it match how I see myself?

I want to be hardworking, and although I feel that on the inside I don't feel it shows outwardly, which is something I'm working on...but I think that comes with patience with myself.

how do I show up for others, and how do they show up for me?

I show up for others when I can, at my best I do it emotionally, but at my worst it is physically. I think others show up for me in the same capacity because I hate to ask others for what I cannot return, so in a sense...they show up best in the ways I don't ask?? Haha.

what about my life feels like love and what doesn't?

Love in my life feels like being known and heard. It's the little things. Gifts from conversations just on the edge of recent memory... and understanding even when there is no agreement. Respect... that is a given and not just coming from comparison.

where does my time go, and where do I wish it would go?

My time goes to my writing and my art where I love, whether in my notebook or my laptop. I like it less on my phone, but at emotional lows you can find me there. I wish it would go more to my sense of adventure outside, during the winter I lose that a lot lol!

who do I admire most, and what about them speaks to my soul?

Sometimes? My past self. Who I am during the spring, where I roam around town and take myself on little adventures and dates. Who I am when I'm happy and my mind is a reinforcement of my childhood whimsy and the strength I called upon to defend me. Often, it's my friends who are intelligent, well-spoken people who are well-educated and incredibly kind. Keen to others. I wish I had a better discerning eye, a better sense for lies or malicious intent.

is the way I live aligned with the life I dream of, or am I just coasting?

I think, I am twenty-five percent there and that is the closest I can be for now...so I'm happy with it. If I'm in the same place next year, then I would be sad.

what qualities in others feel the most magnetic to me? Do I reflect those?

Money, power and respect! Along with the emotional intelligence (and the morals to use it wisely.).

I think that I'm working toward it well enough, to earn a place in that space. I hope that by following my own morals and being true to what I believe earns respect. I hope that my education will give me the power to earn money to sustain myself and support myself, so that when I use my power I can do it without risking the people I love or betraying myself.

what’s inside my bag, and what does it say about me? (be honest, even the gum wrappers count.)

My iPad and my keyboard because I'd rather die than not have the chance to write or sketch. My notebook because putting pen to paper is s much better than the Apple Pencil (although typing is faster and easier for my poor hands.). Bandaids for my clumsy ass. Lotion because I'm black <3. A book usually for art studying, japanese... or writing inspo.

if I could script my perfect morning, how would it begin?

I start by taking a big gulp of cold water until I feel like a person again, and then follow it up with a BIG stretch. I don't check my phone and get sucked into texting for an unholy amount of time... and hopefully then I slip out of bed to sit in front of my desk and check my tasks for the day preparing to get some work done with hopefully a plan to eat something light for breakfast....even if eating kind of sucks sometimes.

what passions have I ignored that I would like to reclaim?

Wig styling, lol. I can live with it, but sometimes I think of all the better I'd be if I just... did a liiiiiitttle more. Playing with my kitties more, they deserve some fun.

What’s one small, powerful shift I could make today to move toward my dream life?

Go to bed at a nice time don't force myself to stay up for more entertainment. I wish it was easier to fall asleep on time, clear my head and have nothing I felt I missed out on before I was bed locked. Post this, make use of the blog I'm so excited to use but keep saving for 'the right time.'

write a tender letter to the future version of yourself. What do you hope they’ve become, and what do you want them to remember about now?

Hello future me,

I care about you, I hope you know that. I know you do somewhere in there. I'm doing my best not to fall back on my Vulcan habits and just answer the prompt, looking to please the judges in my mind <3. I hope you've met your academic goals and have some sort of proof to yourself that you've really changed, because that is what that means to you, isn't it? We get a sense of catharsis from this shift in ourselves, even if I worry about when there is less change... I hope we are still confident. Even if things don't go toward our best case, we know who we are (pretty dang resilient, cycle breakers.).

I hope you've finally got past that part in the fanfic that we're super exciting to write, and we have something new and exciting to look forward too, perhaps even a surprise favorite we didn't expect. Most importantly, I hope we get a break from those zombie dreams, I'm not sure how many more outbreaks we can survive!

Oh my gosh? I hope we've made more friends in our area, we don't have to just take ourselves out on fun little adventures, but we have some people to do karaoke with and study with at cute little cafés and update on our art accounts and make fun videos with. I hope we have more to add to our essay, finally post to our YouTube and make something we can watch and be proud of. Look! We found a place to put those dreams and ideas without telling on our selves to people we've learned...don't always root for us... Most importantly, I hope we feel sane. I hope we feel like we can be that person who gets asked out on dates we don't want to go on, approached by strangers because they want to be our friend. That we can drive! Spider-Man finally falls in love with us once he remembers how in love we are (lol.). We remember to use some semicolons instead of commas; like we did just now. That we have a little space to look back on just how far we've come <3.

I want you to remember that today, you got a gift from your friend that was so personal to you, it couldn't have been meant for anyone else, that they thought of you and valued you...and expected nothing in return genuinely. Like you would- and that made you feel like you wanted to do something in return, no matter how late it was. No stress, no pressure for the first time. In the midst of the fact that right now you're not sure if it'll work out, that some things didn't go to plan, and we still made it this far. That we spent all of our free time preparing for this and looking forward to this until eventually school felt less like a place where we felt shame and more like a place to escape when we wanted to do something for ourselves. Before this? When was the last time we felt proud of ourselves? Genuinely, with no voices in our head downplaying it or minimizing it. I hope you can think of one, and it's so recently it's a clear picture in your mind.

Last thing, I look over at our corkboard right now and it's quite barren. Some stuff taken down... sure, like our schedule that we really should be remaking for us or... that tuition dispute we handled like a boss! Mainly, though, because we're once again waiting to add things to it. I hope we didn't push off the 'right time' we're masters of procrastination delegation. Buy that Polaroid camera, get that makeup job! Pin up those goals, and make those conspiracy theories (WE ARE GETTING THAT MOVIE!). Finish that Fic!! and make the next book! DO everything you want! You can, congrats you made it past 18, and now you're 23, happy to be here. That took time. You did it. I hope you know that! I think you just realized that! Go have fun!!!! Right now, I feel proud. If anything, you'll remember this.

Painfully sincerely, Present me-Past you.

Journaling prompts to reinvent yourself ౨ৎ

how do I want the world to see me, and does it match how I see myself?

how do I show up for others, and how do they show up for me?

what about my life feels like love and what doesn't?

where does my time go, and where do I wish it would go?

who do I admire most, and what about them speaks to my soul?

is the way I live aligned with the life I dream of, or a I just coasting?

what qualities in others feel the most magnetic to me? Do I reflect those?

what’s inside my bag, and what does it say about me? (be honest, even the gum wrappers count.)

if I could script my perfect morning, how would it begin?

what passions have I ignored that I would like to reclaim?

what’s one small, powerful shift I could make today to move toward my dream life?

write a tender letter to the future version of yourself. What do you hope they’ve become, and what do you want them to remember about now?

As always, please feel free to share your own prompts and check out my insta for more of me! <3

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩