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sirenascales · 3 years

Text

-> double black [part four] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

The investigation continues, even if things aren't moving as smoothly as one would like. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai]

2,073 words

note: SMUT Like... this was an excuse to write smut with both of them okay, and totally i forgot to tag those who are on my taglist for the previous part and im so sorry lol but please enjoy!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

Days have gone by and the investigation is still underway, but things weren't looking too great. There was still no confirmed DNA evidence, no weapon, not even a witness. Nothing to aid in the apprehension of Taichi's murderer.

"If only Ranpo were here," Atsushi sighed deeply, the snack loving detective out on another case that had popped up. "He would have solved this in a heartbeat."

I laughed softly, wringing my hands nervously. "It's too bad he isn't here," I said, trying to focus on the paperwork in front of me. "Surely it would make things easier for us..."

"But that'll just be boring!" Dazai exclaimed from his desk, leaning against Atsushi who just pushed him off.

"This isn't for your entertainment, Dazai! The killer could have fled the country by now," Kunikida argued, crossing his arms over his chest. "For now, we just have to stay focused and not waste time.

I nodded, slumping back in my chair and fiddling with my pen. "What the hell are we missing..."

We didn't dwell on it for much longer, since the shift ended. I sighed in relief, looking forward to just going home, eating dinner, and going to bed. The case was draining, the dead ends we kept running into just sending us back to square one. Now all I wanted was to rest for the night.

But of course, with a certain suicidal maniac, that was not happening.

"Isn't this cheating..." I gasped out softly, Dazai pressing his naked body against me from behind, his hard dick against my ass and his mouth on my neck.

"Maybe..." Dazai hummed, reaching around to grab my breasts, the soap in his hands making my skin slippery. "But there's no such thing as cheating in a fight."

I gasped sharply when Dazai pinched my nipples, eyes fluttering closed. "This isn't even a fight... you're the weirdo that wanted to turn this investigation into a game."

Leave it to Dazai to basically latch himself onto me as I made my way home. We ordered delivery, eating together on my couch and deciding to watch a movie. Before I knew it, we were making out on my couch, soon enough making our way to the shower.

The water was hot, steaming up the bathroom. Our wet hair stuck to our skin, Dazai holding onto my hips tightly as he fucked me from behind. He bit his lip in concentration, relishing in the sound of my cries echoing in the small room.

"Fuck... Osamu, you feel so good," I cried out, hands slipping on the tiled walls, trying to grab for something. Dazai just pressed his chest against my back, keeping up his rough pace as he chuckled in my ear.

"Do you like that?" "Yes!" "Of course you do, dirty little girl." Dazai reached around and grabbed my face, stuffing two fingers into my mouth. That had my eyes rolling back as I weakly sucked on his fingers, his other hand working on my clit. That finally sent me over the edge as I screamed around his fingers, body shaking as I reached my peak.

Dazai fucked me through my orgasm, ignoring my whines from the overstimulation until he quickly pulled his cock out, pumping himself a few more times before he hit his own orgasm, cumming right on my ass.

"Fuck, bella. You're so beautiful," he gasped, kissing me deeply while pulling us under the hot water.

We barely made it out of the bathroom before going at it again, Dazai fucking me against the wall in the hallway, one of my legs hooked around him while he wrapped a hand around my neck. His breath was hot against my neck, coming out in breathless pants while he continued to rail me.

"Incredible," he whispered in my ear, his hand still around my neck, keeping me in place. "And so pliable... you'll always be putty in my hands."

"Mmm!" I moaned almost pathetically. "Yes..."

"You're my pretty little subordinate?"

"Yes!"

Soon, we finally made it to my bed, where Dazai proceeded to make me ride him like my life depended on it. I was left shaking, the two of us very satisfied.

"So much for a quiet evening," I huffed a while later, the two of us finally getting clean before burying ourselves under my covers. "You are one horny bastard, Dazai."

"Says the equally horny bitch," Dazai retorted and I laughed, turning and pressing my face against the side of his neck.

It went silent, and thankfully it was a comfortable silence where we just lied there, holding onto each other. I sigh contently, fingers lazily trailing up and down his chest while I can feel the bandages on his arms against my skin.

"Dazai?"

"Hm."

"You know..." I started carefully, keeping my face pressed against him. "If you ever need to like... talk... when you're feeling... bad... I'm here for you." I bit my lip, hoping I wasn't overstepping. "I'm here. Even if it's just to listen..."

Dazai didn't say anything, and I was too freaked out to look at him. Though, after a moment, he pressed a kiss to the top of my head, giving me a nice squeeze.

"You are very kind, bella."

I frowned, cuddling up more against him. I blinked when he shifted, looking at him questionably as he set me down on the bed before he started to get up. "Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom," he grinned back at me. "I won't be long, bella. Don't miss me too much!"

I just scoffed and rolled my eyes, watching Dazai leave the bedroom before staring up at the ceiling. I waited, frown on my face growing deeper as the minutes went by, teeth chewing on my bottom lip nervously.

"Sorry, I went to get some water," Dazai then returned, quickly climbing into bed beside me. Immediately his arms are wrapped around me, holding me tight. "Let's go to sleep."

I smiled up at him, softly pressing a kiss to his lips before I settled against him, closing my eyes. "Goodnight."

Dazai watched me for a second, his lips curling up in an amused, knowing smile. "Goodnight, bella..."

"Ah... this is nerve-wracking..." Keiko mumbled softly, clinging onto my hand as we stepped up to the very familiar tall building. I gulped, nervous since the building was overrun with members of the Port Mafia.

It was the day after that night I spent with Dazai, and instead of being at work, I had received a call from an unknown number. That had turned out to be Chuuya, who ordered me to find Keiko and bring both of our asses to meet him in his office.

Chuuya wasn't just a member of the Port Mafia, but he was an executive, and he held great power. It was almost scary, especially as Keiko and I rode up the escalator to the right floor.

"I wonder what he wants..." Keiko says nervously, biting her lip as we approached the office. We finally made it and I knocked on it five times.

"Come in."

I gulped and we walked inside. Chuuya sat in his desk, and if I wasn't so nervous, I would have been drooling at how fucking fine he looked, sitting with his feet propped on the desk. He gestured to the chairs before his desk lazily. "Sit."

He mostly wanted to talk to Keiko, seeing as she was Taichi's boyfriend and to make sure she didn't tell too much info to the police or "those bastards at the ADA", as he said while shooting me a dirty look. I returned it.

"Of course not," Keiko said softly. "And I wanted to thank you for paying for his funeral. That was nice of you."

Chuuya waved her off. "It wasn't a problem. He was one of my best men." Keiko clenched her fists tightly in her lap as he said that.

"Did you find out anything? We're not having too much luck either," I spoke up, thoughtful look on my face. "Like how can you not find DNA when he was selling the drugs there? There had to have been other people." I looked over at Keiko, missing how Chuuya's eyes went wide before he narrowed them at me.

"It's pissing me off how hard this is," he said rather stiffly, still watching me. "At the end of the day, this might just end up closing as a cold case... but like hell will I forget this." Chuuya clenched his fists, a look of anger and determination on his face. "But we are done here. Well, I'm done with you, Keiko. I still need to speak with her." He was looking right at me.

Keiko gave me a knowing look and a wink and I just playfully shoved her towards the door. "I'll see you later, okay?" I said and she nodded before walking out. Turning back to Chuuya, I watched him get up from his desk. "So what else did you wanna talk about?" I asked, tilting my head as Chuuya walked around the desk and towards me, not answering.

"Um? Hel-mmph!"

Chuuya gripped the back of my neck, pulling me in for a deep, breathtaking kiss. I cupped his face, kissing him back just as deeply. He turned us around so as he walked me backwards with his lips still on mine, I bumped right against his desk, which he sat me on.

"You came in here in this sexy ass dress and expect me not to fuck you?" Chuuya growled, kissing down my neck as his hands moved up my dress. He smirked as he massaged my thighs, quickly finding my knife and removing it. "This is a beautiful knife," he hummed, inspecting it. I smiled softly, weakly reaching to grab it but Chuuya just flicked it, the blade neatly embedding itself right on his desk. "You take great care of it."

"Well, that was my first knife..." I said softly, desperately wanting my knife back, but that went out the window once Chuuya kissed me again.

My legs soon found themselves wrapped around Chuuya's hips. His pants were pushed down just enough to free his cock, my panties pushed to the side as he fucked me right on top of his desk.

"Fuck, dollface, you're even better than I fucking remembered," Chuuya hissed, pushing me on my back, on top of his messy papers. He tossed one of my legs over his shoulder, squeezing his gloved fingers into my flesh as I could only moan and whine in pleasure, his thrusts hitting hard and deep inside me, I was seeing stars.

"S-so much for... only one time, huh," I managed to choke out, my head tossing back as Chuuya hit that one spot. "Oh, fuck!"

"Yeah, shut up and take this cock," Chuuya hissed. His thumb pressed against my clit, and that was enough to have me squeezing him tight as I hit my orgasm, legs shaking and loud cries leaving my mouth.

That got him going and soon, Chuuya was pulling out and I was on my knees, fisting his cock and letting Chuuya cum in my mouth. Chuuya petted my hair, a blissed out look on his face. "Good girl. Now, bend yourself over the desk."

With shaking knees, I got myself up and bent over Chuuya's desk like he ordered, displayed all nice and pretty for him. I looked back over my shoulder, shuddering at how he looked at me, blue eyes full of hunger as he bit on his lower lip. His leather clad hands started to squeeze my ass, moving one hand up until he's pressing on the middle of my back, guiding his cock against my entrance with his other hand.

We borh groaned in pleasure as he started pushing himself in, Chuuya tossing his head back with a hiss. "Fuck, I'll never get tired of this." He starts thrusting his hips, moaning again at the feel of my walls around him. "Fuck, fuck..."

"It's all yours..." I could only babble out, the feel of him stretching me nice and good frying my brain. "Chuuya, please, oh my God..."

After two more soul shattering orgasms, I was finally allowed to leave... if I even could. There was a smug grin on Chuuya's face as he just stared at me. I sat in the chair across from him, the two of us dressed, but he looked like a damn model while I looked like I had a run in with the giant industrial fans they had in elementary school cafeterias during the warmer days.

"Get that dumb look off your face," I whined. "It's not fair. I looked like I got attacked."

Chuuya snickered. "I mean... that's not so far off."

I rolled my eyes. "Ugh, you and Dazai are so unbelievably horny, it's sad."

Chuuya growled. "First off, don't talk about him around me. And second, who was the one begging to titfuck my cock?"

I scoffed, face hot and I turned my nose up at him. "Shut up."

"Just go home."

"Fine. You guys are still cheaters anyway," I said before standing up. I walked over to him, leaning over his desk and I was happy when he met me halfway and gave me a kiss. "Call me again. Maybe when there isn't a weird investigation going on."

Chuuya rolled his eyes, shooing me away. "Just go."

I giggled softly before turning and walking out of the office. Chuuya sighed deeply, opening one of his desk drawers. He stared at the object inside of it for a moment, sighing again before grabbing his pack of cigarettes, taking one and lighting it up before taking a long drag.

-End

tags in replies!

#bsd x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai smut #chuuya smut #bsd smut #yee fucking haw more smut bc i am a heathen straying further away from God #oh to be the reader sigh

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anotherbeingsworld · 3 years

Text

the start of something new

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Alessia Lyxienne)

Rating: G and very fluffy!

Word Count: 1787

Summary: An AU where bryce and alessia becomes study buddies through a cup of cappuccino.

Prompts: @choicesjunechallenge2021 : Day 2 - cappuccino.

A/N: Day 2 of my writing streak for our boy - Bryce hehe ! Its an AU where MC is also a student at Stanford with Bryce - and where he works part-time as a barista there! The concept is very cute, and I hope y'all love it! Shoutout to @appiomofchoice again for the help and the support <33 (I apologize for any grammar mistakes since english is not my first language and such, enjoy!)

During her time here, she discovered a vintage café away from campus – and since then, it's been her studying nook. It was never crowded or filled with people unlike the ones in the campus radius. The atmosphere was calm, as the customers weren’t as crowded. She was known as a local there among the workers. The baristas knew her name and her usual order, especially during the afternoons. But, today was an exception as she needed the night to study for her anatomy test tomorrow afternoon.

Stanford’s exam season came rolling in a blink of an eye. The library was occupied, as every seat was filled with students preparing themselves for the season. As for one Alessia Lyxienne, she prefers to study with the comfort of a hot drink – either to give her a sense of comfort or as a boost for her to survive the whole day while indulging herself in a textbook filled with words.

The music playing in the background was a reverb tune, as she smiles over the scent of brewed coffee and pastries. She walks upon her usual seat, before getting into the line. As it was her turn to order – she stumbled upon a familiar face from her anatomy class; the infamous Bryce Lahela.

“Welcome, what would you like to order?” He looks up and smiles over the familiar face.

“Are you from Dr. Lizza’s anatomy class today? You looked familiar.” She smiles before nodding to the question.

“Yes, I’m Alessia. And, you are the ‘infamous’ Bryce Lahela then?” She nods towards his name tag on his apron.

“The one and only.” He smiles at her, as she continues to convo.

“I never knew you worked here, despite being quite a regular here.” She raised an eyebrow at him in curiosity.

“I heard about you, my buddy Mikayla would talk about this one girl who ordered the same order every time she came in – and, here you are.”

Alessia nods in confirmation,

“Hey, they served a good cup of cappuccino here – and, maybe there’s a new reason for me to keep coming back here.” She winks at him – clearly surprised herself upon the sudden flirtation going on. She examined him, as the brown eyes of his shine brightly as the attire looks adorable on him. She tries to remember him – how he looked like during classes, however, this is the first time she saw him close.

“Maybe if you play your cards right – I’ll treat you to a cappuccino made by yours truly. The best this town will ever have.” He challenges her, as she nods in resolute with a pinch of excitement in her.

Bryce nods to the customer in the back, as Alessia immediately orders her usual. A cup of cappuccino and a side of chocolate croissant.

“I’ll send it to you later.” He winks before passing the change – as Alessia returns a smile his way.

A couple of minutes had passed, as Alessia began to revise some of the terms in her textbook once more. Recalling each term one-by-one, before she was interrupted by the scent of coffee itself. There he was holding the tray her way, as she helped him with the contents.

“Thank you, Bryce.” She states as Bryce nods – his eyes fall onto the familiarity of the terms on the table.

“Studying for the test tomorrow?” She nods, as she took a small sip of the drink.

“Yeah – I need to get some of the terms in my mind. It's gonna be a long night – but, I got coffee.” She held on to the cup with a proud expression on her face.

Bryce laughs, his voice sounds rich to the ears as she wanted to hear it again.

“My shift ends in a little bit, but wanna study together?” His sudden question makes her froze, somehow shocked but, she nods regardless – and immediately she wanted to kick herself in the face for acting like a weirdo in front of the man.

“Yes, sure! Yes.” She replies with quite an enthusiasm before he left the table. She mentally scolds herself for the awkward replies but, smiles regardless before continuing to focus on her notes.

It was an hour later, as the clock strikes at 10 p.m. However, Alessia manages to get her studying done a bit – as Bryce came to her table joining her along the way.

“It's already closing time, but we could stay a bit since I’ll be closing the shop tonight.” He stated as a backpack was brought with him.

“Lahela, good luck with the test tomorrow! And, wait a minute – both you and Alessia are in the same class? It’s a small world after all.” Mikayla winks at him, as she waved goodbye at them both.

“You know her?” Bryce asked suddenly at the sudden wink which was thrown their way.

“Yes, since I become a regular – she was the one whose cappuccino I kept coming back to. And, we become quite close since then.” Bryce nods at the response.

“Well, how about I treat you to another Bryce special before we began the new session shall we?”

“Let’s see if it can beat Mikayla’s recipe shall we?” She jokes as he started to make the drinks for their late-night session.

“Here let me pay for the extra one.”

He stops her before the money lands on his hands.

“It’s on me – as for saying yes to this study session.” He says as she nods excitedly – sipping the drink with an astonished look on her face.

“This is much better! But, don’t tell Mikayla, she’ll kill me.” Bryce lets out a laugh, as he nods.

“My lips are sealed.” He acts as he zips his mouth before throwing the key away, making her filled with laughter.

They started to study together – and in between those moments; they began to get to know one another. In between moments, there were hidden glances and smiles, as they quiz one another in the dim light of the empty café. There were waves of laughter, smiles, and even competitive streaks between them both.

Hours later, it was already 1 a.m. as they finally left the café. Alessia waiting for Bryce as he closes it for the day, she smiles as he met her eyes.

“Is everything locked?”

“Done and done. Let’s go – it's already late, let me walk you back to campus.” He stated as they made their way along the pavement back to their dorms. They stopped at the front of the dorms, as they are saying goodbye.

“I had fun tonight – and studying with you was very very fun.” Alessia begins, as Bryce returns a smile to her statement.

“Hey, I did win during our rapid rounds – it was indeed very fun.”

“No, you won by half a point – it doesn’t count!”

He clicks his tongue her way, somehow they have known each other a whole lifetime – it felt comfortable being with him and honestly, she wants to see him again. Their laughter died down, as there was a silence that follows.

“Do you – maybe, wanna do this again tomorrow? After the exams, maybe at someplace other than the café?” He suddenly asks her, as she nods instantly – somehow as if he was reading her mind.

“Yes, I’d love to. But, I’ll treat you on the next meal – I know a place where they have the best food in the whole country.” She explains excitedly earning an eyebrow raised from Bryce himself.

“The best huh, well – I’ll accept, only if you let me treat you with the next cup of ala Bryce for you?”

“Deal!”

They both laugh, as they said their goodbyes. He waits for her a few moments, before going back to his room – a huge smile on his face, satisfied with the day. Little did he know, Alessia was smiling too for the same reason as well.

It was after the test, as they decided to meet up once again. She puts on a dress along with a jacket to complement her outfit with her hair up in a ponytail before meeting Bryce at the park for their adventure today.

“Hey!” She said, as somehow shocked at how they coordinated in their outfits today – it’s a coincidence indeed.

“Hi! Shall we began our adventure at and I quote ‘the best food in the country’ Ms. Lyxienne?” A tone of sarcasm can be heard in his voice.

She laughs as they began their adventure – and Bryce finally agrees that it is indeed one of the best food he has ever eaten, which she returns with a knowing grin on her face.

“Okay fine – you win. I’ll get you a cup then.” He rolls his eyes, however, the hint of a smile was still on his face as they made their final stop at the café once again.

They were greeted by Mikayla and Rowan who are working the night shift for the day. Alessia greeted them both, seem to know them despite not knowing that Bryce works there as well.

They sat on their seats before – somehow, a feeling of déjà vu from the day before made her smile.

“You know, as a regular – I have never seen you working here.” She begins as Bryce lets out a chuckle.

“I work only on specific days due to our studies. But, you did saw me – and here we are today.” He took a bite onto the pastry which is known as their supper for the night.

“Indeed, I would consider myself lucky than right?” She questions before taking a sip on her drink – a smile on her face.

The café becomes their usual spot together – as they grew closer every day. She wonders what if she didn’t come that night – how different their life could be, and yet here she is smiling once more – awaiting her special order by her boyfriend a few months later.

“Very lucky indeed.” He smiles back as they continue to get to know one another, for them it felt comfortable. The very definition of home, where it's warm and happy – as they talked about their future specialization that they would like to join, to topics about life. What makes them happy? What’s their favorite memory?

“Is it the usual?” She asks as Bryce smiles – presenting the drink on the table.

“One beautifully made cappuccino by yours truly for one beautiful lady here.” He says as he places a kiss on her cheek moving on to his other tasks.

She sips the drink slowly, as she began her study session – the feeling of déjà vu is coming back even months later and yet, she is happy with it - they are indeed very happy.

THE END.

tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @mvalentine , @storyofmychoices , @princess-geek , @lahellacute , @annekebbphotography , @mrsbhandari , @dcbbw , @choicessa , @fantasyoverreality98 , @baltersome , @ofpixelsandscribbles , @thundergom , @starrystarrytrouble , @kelseaaa , @choicesficwriterscreations , @lalizah , @drethanramslay , @eleanorbloom , @openheartfanfics , @brycesgirlbackup , @freckles-spangledvampire , @agentnolastname , @robintora , @adriansbiss , @appiomofchoice , @ariondevereux and @natureblooms24

#playchoices #bryce x mc #bryce lahela #open heart #open heart fanfics #oc: alessia lyxienn #choices fic writers creations #alya writes #bryce x alessia

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roseabelle21 · 4 years

Text

Sypnosis: It had been over five years since your last encounter with a certain explosive blond. Ever since then, you're happy. You felt complete, fulfilled, and contented. Going on that date with Inasa was the best decision you have ever made in your entire life, he went from being your fanboy to your future husband. Quite a story to tell if I do say so myself. Life is good. Though someone says otherwise.

Read before you proceed: That Your Love Is Gone.

Status: Edited

Tagging: @jazzylove

He stared at the white envelope before him, unfeeling. He didn't know how long he's been staring at it, maybe when he opened the mail and placed it down his table? That was well over an hour ago.

Katsuki just stared at the envelope, like it's going to explode the moment he opened it. The paper won't, but his heart just might.

Wait, is it still beating? He thought it stopped the moment he saw you two locked lips once in the coffee shop. Boy, did that sight hurt like a bitch, yet he pretended that he saw nothing and held on his mug in a bone-crushing grip. Kirishima and Denki had pointed it out to him discreetly before it exploded. He stomped out of the shop before you noticed that he was there.

The two of you had avoided each other ever since that disaster of a confession. The only communication both of you ever had was on joint missions together, and you won't even speak to the other unless necessary.

He wanted to talk to you again, but his pride and humiliation won't let him.

Selfishly, he prayed that the date with Inasa didn't go well, still hoping that he still had the chance to be with you. Or when he found out that you two are finally official, things between you won't work out in the end and go your separate ways.

That didn't happen much, to his dismay. The wedding invitation on his table said otherwise.

Katsuki knows it's wrong, waiting patiently for the day that your relationship with the whirlwind user to fuck up, and he'll be there to sweep you away from him, and maybe knock teeth or two out.

He scoffed at his thoughts. All of this was his fault. He knows it, knowing full well that he can't do anything to change the past. He even tried dating other people to get over you, alas the hunt remains fruitless. He can't look at another girl, much less be with them without thinking of you.

After all these years, he still loves you.

Pathetic.

His silent tears hit the cold floor. He didn't even bother wiping them away. His ruby eyes continued to burn holes at the letter before him. Heart pounding in his ears, he felt like he couldn't breathe, his heart aching, mind empty, wishing that he'd wake up soon and end this nightmare. Maybe even wake up with you by his side.

No matter how hard he tried to stop, his wishful thinking is always there. Even he knows that it's not healthy thinking that way about someone for so long. It's been five years, for Christ's sake! His heart needs to let you go.

But how could it? Every time he sees you, it feels like there is a fucking zoo rampaging on his stomach, every time you smile or laugh, it puts the sun to shame because of how bright and warm it is. He wished that he was still the one causing those.

Before then, he didn't need to do much to make you happy. Him being himself was all he needed to be; his sarcastic remarks and angry faces were a few of the things that put a smile on your face.

He likes being the source of your happiness until he wasn't.

Katsuki swallowed the lump on his throat, taking a deep breath before wiping his eyes. He waited for a bit of a steady, racing heart and mind before gently picking up the envelope, careful not to make even the slightest of crumple.

He could have burned his hand honestly, that's how bad it hurts. Maybe it's just his imagination, but he can smell the tiniest bit of your favourite flowers. Katsuki held the paper to his nose a gave it a smell; it has a scent.

He smirked, imagining you insisting that the paper is scented since it is a special occasion, the amount of scented paper you used for your friends at every holiday and birthday to make your cards.

Katsuki then opened it, making sure to be extra gentle when tearing it up. He stared at it again, that open flap with the letter inside. It's there, his worst nightmare.

With a heavy heart, he took it out and admired its designing and details: the swirls and flowers embroidered on the sides, the fancy calligraphy in your names, the neat print below with the details of the wedding, and the picture of you and your fiancee.

His heart clenched seeing it, yet at the same time, he felt a small glimmer of happiness that came along with it.

Your smile, it was so beautiful, so genuine, so happy.

Tears made its way down his cheeks again, and despite that, he grinned.

He's happy that you found someone that can treat you better than he can. And even if he's no longer the one making you happy, he can't do anything to stop that.

He read the invitation; although it pained him to continue reading it, he was happy that he even got an invite. Despite not talking much this past few years, he's satisfied that he still got invited.

Katsuki placed the paperback in the envelope and placed it down. He's happy for you, he is, and then, he's hit with an epiphany.

Pulling out his phone, he took a deep breath and searched his contacts, then he messaged them.

To (Y/N): Can we talk?

It's oddly peaceful.

Katsuki has attended a few weddings in his life, and from what he's experienced, all of they tend to be chaotic in one way or another.

It's either one of the family members is late, missing a tux or a dress, god forbid the annoying children running around without a care in the world whilst their mothers frantically chase them around. Now, he's not seeing any of them.

Quite the opposite. Everyone seems to be on time, have everything they need, and surprisingly, the children are cooperating. It's almost scary, almost unnatural. And it's freaking him out.

Maybe the Maid of Honor has something to do with it. She's snapping at everyone who so much makes a noise or goes out of line. Running back and forth when someone calls her for help, checking everyone's process every ten minutes. Making sure everyone is right on schedule.

Katsuki can't help but feel bad for her, dealing with so much pressure in one body can be tiring. Alas, there's nothing he can do about it. Although he finds her quite cute when angry, he knows nothing about her other than she's (Y/N)'s cousin.

The rest of the Bakusquad are chilling on a bench near the pool. Everyone already had their hair, make-up, and dressed done. Mina is talking with Jirou and Yaoyorozu, planning on their girls day with the newlywed woman soon. Kirishima and Sero are talking about their latest missions, and last but not least, Kaminari staring at the Maid of Honor with a bit of drool on the corner of his mouth.

"You look like an idiot dunce face," Kaminari jumped at Katsuki's voice," she might think you're a weirdo more than you already are if you keep staring at her like that."

"Oh shit, you're right." The blond immediately wiped his mouth and straightened his tux, fixing his hair and clearing his throat.

"Sorry, she's charming, though. Like an angry chihuahua." Jirou slapped the arm of the blond with a scowl on her face.

"Don't say that! You don't even know her." Everyone can tell her questioning look.

"You talk as if you know her Jirou," Sero inquired. The girl shrugged as she twirled her ear with a finger.

“We work to the same radio studio. She's the one who does the cover songs and news most of the time."

"No way! She's DJ Fox?!" Kirishima and Kaminari shrieked, fanboying.

"Man, that is so cool! You gotta introduce us!"

"No," Jirou replied immediately.

Before anyone could react, the girl of the subject yelled at her mage phone. Telling everyone to proceed to the church and get in line as planned.

Katsuki stood up and glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in the crowd. The door of your room opened, and his heart leapt at the throat, imagining how beautiful you would look in your wedding dress. That fuzzy feeling soon turned into a mix of rage and disappointment as the once again Maid of Honor rushed to your door and yelled at you for being impatient.

Everyone made it to the church in no time. The groom and his best man were shoving each other playfully to ease his nerves. Katsuki immediately glanced away from them, remembering his talk with you a few months ago.

Not long after they were in place, the music started playing. One by one, everyone walked down the aisle, his partner looking at him anxiously, but he couldn't care less. His mind wandered.

There you are, sitting at the corner of the cafe, looking outside with a mug of steaming hot coffee in front of you with a pastry beside it. Another pair of coffee and pastry beside it, which he assumes as his since it was his favourite.

Slowly, he and his partner stopped for a short while for the photographer before proceeding on their walking.

Small talks and laughs were made, the atmosphere between the two of you more at ease, unlike before. As happy as he looks, his heart can't help but shatter every time your ring glows in the sunlight.

The rest of the guests followed; not long after, the door shuts, and everyone stands up in their seats. The familiar music filled the air.

He apologized. Apologized again and again, and you could only give him your soft eyes and smile. Not pitying him one bit, only looking at him with fondness in your eyes as you took his hands between yours.

Inasa was crying as soon as the door opened, the light momentarily blinding your features, but when it faded, Katsuki can also feel his eyes tearing up.

"I should have told you what you meant to me," he says, voice breaking up.

Cause now I paid the price.

Words can't describe how beautiful you look walking down the aisle in the arm of your parents. A wide smile is plastered permanently on your face as you look at the man in front of you. All the love is visible in both of your eyes as you look at your significant other like they are the only person in the room.

You reached the front of the altar, your parents kissing you on both cheeks before hugging you and your crying groom.

Katsuki's heart warmed at the sight of you laughing softly at Inasa, placing your hands on his face as you wiped his tears with your thumbs. The said man is grinning at you despite the tears that continue to flow down his cheeks.

Katsuki didn't realize that his tears escaped his eyes. Had it Kirishima not point it out. He quickly wiped them away and stood up straight. The faux redhead is gently patting the blond at his back and offering him a sympathetic smile.

As Katsuki continued to observe the both of you, and he couldn't help but smile at the pure, childlike happiness on your faces. He can feel his heart slowly letting go. Letting go of his jealously, the bitterness, and the anger he has left for himself.

Though the only thing he can never let go of is his love for you. It might not be the same love he has with you before, but he is and will always love you till the end of time. He loves you enough to let you go.

Maybe in another life, he can make your stay. He never planned that one day, he'd be losing you. Now here he is, watching you get married to the love of your life.

He never imagined this, not without him there with you, but he certainly isn't regretting it.

#katsuki x you #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki angst #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x y/n #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakagou katsuki x y/n

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raleighcarrera · 4 years

Text

after class

ride or die | colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler)

‘part of me wishes things were different. we could’ve met at college… pushed each other in the classroom…’

colt & ellie are classmates at langston. for @rodappreciationweek day 2 (colt day!)

tags: @choicesarehard, @lovehugsandcandy, @pixeljazzy, @theeccentricbibliophile, @troublemakerinspace, @dancingboba, @zigtheeortega

~10.5k words | M (18+)

colt surveyed the classroom as he stalked through the front door, late, his eyes eventually coming to rest on the last available desk. naturally, it was in the front row of the room, worsening the low level of irritation he already had simmering.

great. just what he’d been hoping for, at 8:30 in the morning, on the first day of the fall semester. he huffed as he made his way over to it, dropping unceremoniously into the chair. so much for coasting through syllabus week, or sleeping through the morning classes his advisor had recommended. at least he’d made it in before the professor.

he cut a bored glance to the left and caught sight of the girl sitting next to him. she looked way too perky for the early morning hour, sitting up straight in her seat, notebook already open on her desk. the charms on the bracelet adorning her wrist jangled together when she lifted her reusable water bottle to her lips and sipped from the straw.

8:30 AM and she wasn’t even drinking coffee? what a weirdo.

colt’s eyes slid down and lingered on her legs, crossed under the desk. the shorts she was wearing provided ample view of smooth, brown skin, and he smirked at the way she was bouncing her foot before forcing his eyes away. when he looked back up, he noticed she was looking at him, too.

his eyebrows arched, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards. before he could say anything, the professor walked in, pulling the door shut behind her. the girl beside him flushed red all the way to her hairline and averted her eyes guiltily, looking back toward the front of the room as though the lecture had already started.

colt grinned to himself and leaned back in his seat, pleased as punch. maybe this early class wouldn’t be the worst thing that ever happened to him, after all.

“good morning, everyone,” the professor said, dropping her things on the desk at the front of the room and immediately moving to pass out the syllabus, working her way up and down the rows of desks. “i’m dr. morrell. welcome to law and psychology. the purpose of this class is to examine the ways both industries intersect with each other. over the course of the semester we’ll explore issues relevant to understanding human behavior from the perspective of law and psych and the contributions of psychology as a behavioral science to legal issues.”

the girl sitting beside him was already taking notes. colt scanned the syllabus as the professor dropped it onto his desk, grimacing when he caught sight of the grading breakdown. two exams, two papers and a group project? surely no hot girl was worth subjecting himself to that.

“i’d like a few of you to provide some examples of where law and psych intersect so that i can get to know you. who wants to go first?”

out of the corner of his eye, colt saw the girl’s hand shoot up. of course.

“go ahead. what’s your name?”

“ellie wheeler,” she answered, “and psychology often intersects with the law when it comes to false confessions. a majority of false confessions occur because of the psychologically manipulative interrogation tactics police use, like the guilt-presumptive reid technique.”

“very good,” dr. morrell praised. “we’ll be covering the psychology behind false confessions extensively before midterms. anyone else?”

his hand raised before he was even aware of it. “colt kaneko. isn’t ellie ignoring that false confessions are also born from a system that doesn’t take into account dispositional vulnerabilities of suspects? like not requiring a lawyer for juveniles or those with behavioral or personality disorders -- you know, the groups who actually provide a majority of false confessions.”

the professor’s eyebrows raised. colt could feel ellie staring at him in disbelief from where she was sitting beside him. “certainly,” dr. morrell agreed politely, “we’ll be exploring a variety of studies that explain how social pressures, personality traits and potential conduct disorders intersect with police interrogations and confessions. but this is great insight.”

she crossed to the other side of the room to call on another student. colt turned his head and caught ellie’s eye -- she was still glaring at him, looking pissed off and, honestly, even hotter for it.

when he grinned at her, she huffed under her breath, still obviously annoyed. her gaze snapped back to the syllabus, and though he continued to sneak glances at her for the next ninety minutes, she didn’t look his way again.

she hung back to talk to the professor once they were dismissed, but colt wasn’t about to linger in a lecture hall, even if it meant scoring a chance to talk to the only girl who’d actually captured his attention at college so far.

the thought of having to wait until thursday to see her again was... unwelcome. as he made his way to his next class, he wondered why he’d never seen her around before. if she was a psych student it seemed strange that they’d managed to go a whole year without having a class together; the program at langston wasn’t that big, and for most of his freshman year he’d seen the same faces, give or take a few, in each of his classes. now, on the first day of his sophomore year, he’d recognized most of the people in law & psych, too. but not her.

hopefully she’d changed majors and wasn’t just taking law & psych to fulfill a requirement. having her around was going to make the program a lot more interesting -- none of the other people in his courses ever challenged him, and he’d honestly gotten sort of bored picking apart their points all the time. she was a welcome change of pace, and he was surprised to find that he was actually looking forward to her inevitable payback for shutting her down in class.

colt got to his social psych class with enough time to have his pick of the seats. he slipped into the back row and pulled out his phone, scrolling through the messages he’d missed since last night. a few minutes later, the sound of someone pulling out the chair beside him made him lift his eyes, and a wide grin -- one that he knew well was too obnoxious for even the latter half of the morning -- took over his face when he saw who it was that had sat down next to him.

“hey,” he greeted, nodding at ellie. “looks like you copied my schedule.”

she regarded him with barely suppressed disgust. “my advisor picked these classes. i registered late and got locked out of everything.”

huh. that was exactly what had happened to him, but in all actuality, he’d completely forgotten about the deadline to register for classes. “are you new to the program? why haven’t i had any classes with you before?”

she looked at him like he was insane. “uh, it’s my first day? i just started here.”

okay -- that wasn’t exactly fair. like he was just supposed to assume she was a freshman, when both classes he’d found her in were two-hundred level courses? “shouldn’t you be in intro to psych, then?”

ellie rolled her eyes at him. he watched as she pulled a second notebook from her bag, setting it on the desk next to her water bottle. “i have an accelerated course load,” she explained, “i started over the summer. i’m in the pre-law program? you do undergrad in just three years and then law school for the next three. psych is just one of my minors.”

so -- she was brilliant. figures. he’d had a feeling.

“well --”

she turned away as the professor walked in. colt rolled his eyes as he started droning on about the course, walking through the syllabus at an agonizingly slow pace. like he gave a shit. the girl sitting next to him was infinitely more interesting.

“...so our first unit will explore social psychology as it pertains to consumer behavior. can anyone name an example of psychology impacting consumer behavior? let’s see... colt. how about you?”

the sound of his name startled him into paying attention again. “uh... packaging? and presentation. grocery store layouts are designed to push certain products so everything from lighting to shelf position impacts consumers on a psychological level.”

“sure,” the professor nodded, “but what about in a social context? anyone else?”

ellie raised her hand. “there are lots of studies that show salesperson interaction can significantly affect consumer behavior. oftentimes the social pressures of the interaction can impact purchasing behaviors significantly.”

“you’re absolutely right. now, if we expand on ellie’s observation...”

colt looked back towards her and found ellie shooting him a smug, self-satisfied smile. well. if that was the way she wanted to kick off the semester, then... color him even more impressed.

he nodded back at her. game on.

tuesday afternoon came around quickly enough. the class pattern at langston meant that most students had the day off on wednesdays, so colt’s roommate was already pregaming when he got back to the dorm, getting ready to go out later that night.

logan tossed him a beer as soon as he took his jacket off. “hey,” he nodded at him, “there’s a party at backyard tonight. wanna go?”

colt shrugged, cracking the tab on the can and lifting it to his lips for a sip. “i guess. who’s living there this year?”

“i think the lacrosse team,” logan answered, though his voice sounded distracted, his eyes were on his phone. “there’s people going to howl too, though.”

“whatever,” he said, dropping down onto his bed, kicking off his shoes, “we could always start at the bar and go to backyard after. i don’t care.”

a thought occurred to him as he drained the rest of his beer, leaning over to set the empty can on his desk. trying to keep his voice casual, he asked, “do you remember where we used to party when we were freshmen?”

logan lifted his head and smirked at him. “we didn’t used to party anywhere. i went out and you sulked in the room.”

colt rolled his eyes. “i wasn’t sulking.” he just hadn’t wanted to be at school. at all. colt spent most of his freshman year trying to figure out how to get kicked out of college and sent home to l.a., not that it had done him much good.

“if you say so,” logan hummed, setting his phone aside and heading to the fridge for another beer. colt shook his head when logan looked back at him curiously. “why’re you asking, anyway?”

“no reason,” colt answered too-quickly, averting his eyes when logan’s look turned suspicious, “just wondering.”

logan leaned against his desk, his expression morphing into one of disbelief. “dude. come on.”

colt’s jaw clenched as he grit his teeth. then he sighed and said, “fine. there’s a girl in the psych program i wanted to talk to.”

logan’s face split into a boyish, excited grin. “dude,” he said again, but this time he sounded delighted, “seriously? i’ve only been waiting, like, an entire year for this. what’s her name?”

colt rolled his eyes at him. he should’ve anticipated this reaction. “forget it. it’s not a big deal. if we run into her we run into her --”

“colt,” logan sighed, “you know you could just invite her, right?”

“i don’t have her number. and anyway --”

“okay, whatever. we’ll just find her. i think most of the freshmen should be at the rugby party, we can walk there after the bar. dude, this is so awesome. i’ve always wanted to be your wing man.”

“well, can you try to calm down?” he leaned back on the mattress, shrugging his shoulders. “i don’t even think she likes me.”

“yeah,” logan laughed, “i’m sure you were really nice to her.”

“shut up,” colt mumbled, “it was -- whatever. i’m going to take a shower.”

logan’s enthusiasm didn’t waver; if anything, it only got worse as he kept drinking. he bothered colt about what he was going to wear for twenty minutes until colt finally gave in and let logan pick from his shirts.

fortunately, he was at least moderately buzzed by the time they made it to the bar and met up with the rest of their friends. even more fortunately, logan started talking to a girl as soon as they got there and left him alone to first survey the crowd for ellie -- no luck there -- and then start slamming back shots.

he lost track of time talking to some girl who knew a surprising amount about cars and soon enough it was approaching midnight and he was drunk, waiting until logan came up for air from where he’d been kissing the girl he’d met in a corner of the bar to remind him about the party.

“oh yeah!” logan said excitedly, one arm wrapped around the girl’s shoulders. she was leaning on his chest, giggling drunkenly at nothing. “christina’s a freshman, too, she said she’d bring us by. maybe she knows the girl you like.”

“dude,” colt said, shaking his head, “come on.” the small group of people they’d met up with at the bar walked with them to the rugby house, where the guy at the door recognized the girl logan had been making out with and waved them all in without a second glance.

the house was full of people he didn’t recognize, which probably meant that most of them were freshmen or people on the rugby team; painfully loud music made it almost impossible to hear logan, even when he leaned in and screamed into his ear, “is she here?”

colt looked around, but he didn’t see ellie anywhere in the living room. he shook his head. “i’m gonna go get a drink,” he called, weaving through the crowd of bodies and walking off into the kitchen, alone.

he bypassed the keg and went straight for the bottles lining the counter. he was pouring vodka into a cup he’d already half-filled with tequila when someone bumped into him, jostling his shoulder.

colt turned around and came face-to-face with ellie, who was unsteady on her feet, brushing her hair out of her face where it’d suddenly fallen into her eyes. she looked different than she had in class yesterday -- the top she was wearing was low-cut and lacy, her shorts tight and short enough to show off the same long, tanned legs he’d been eyeing in the lecture hall.

she smiled when he finally met her eyes. “oh. it’s you. hi!” she chirped cheerfully, her voice loud and over-excited. the fact that she was being so nice to him meant that she’d probably had a few. her eyes were unfocused as she looked him over, though her gaze sharpened when she stopped on his face again. “what’re you doing here?”

he shrugged, leaning against the counter as nonchalantly as possible. “my roommate wanted to stop in.” colt felt his lips pull into a grin despite himself. “didn’t think i’d see a girl like you in a place like this.”

ellie pouted prettily at him. “what’s that s’posed to mean?”

he laughed. of course she had to be a cute drunk. “you’re just such a goody-two-shoes. i’m almost impressed you made it out at all.”

her arms folded under her chest. colt focused all of his energy on keeping his eyes on her face. “i am not a goody-two-shoes.”

colt took a long sip from the cup in his hand. that he was able to swallow the alcohol straight without gagging immediately proved he was probably too drunk for this conversation. “sure you’re not.”

“i’m not,” she insisted, “i’ll prove it. let’s take shots!”

he glanced down at the cup in his hand, mentally judging how much was left. then, he held it out to her with his eyebrows arched. “okay. if you can finish this you’ll officially have impressed me.”

ellie confidently snatched the cup out of his hand, lifting it to her nose. then she wavered, squinting down into it. “what is it?”

colt grinned at her again. “tequila.”

“it smells like vodka.”

he shrugged. “it’s vodka, too.”

“you’ve been standing here drinking vodka and tequila mixed together? without -- without, like, soda? or juice? you’re a sociopath.”

“look, if you can’t handle it, no worries. maybe we can find you a white claw or something.”

ellie huffed, squinting at him before resolutely lifting his cup to her lips and knocking back the liquid left in it in one gulp.

he pursed his lips together to stifle a smile, and then a laugh, once she started coughing.

“ugh! that is awful,” ellie exclaimed, pushing the empty cup back into his hands, “how can you possibly drink that? no wonder you’re like -- how you are.”

his friends found them in the kitchen before he could ask what she meant. logan clapped his shoulder and asked, “hey, are you ready to go? chase and sean are already at backyard.”

the girl he’d brought with him squealed excitedly when she saw ellie, throwing herself into her arms for a hug. “ohmygod, you should totally come with us!” she exclaimed, “i’ll walk you back later. please, el?”

logan’s face lit up. he elbowed colt hard in the side until colt glared at him and stepped purposefully on his foot.

“sure,” ellie shrugged, “let me just tell my roommate.” she glanced at colt, the corners of her mouth lifting. “i’ll meet you guys outside?”

he nodded, probably faster than he should have. “yeah.” the longer they all stood there, the more likely it was that logan would say something to embarrass him, anyway.

there were people drinking in the front yard when they went outside, but he felt like he could breathe a little easier out of the crowded kitchen and living room. as soon as christina pulled away from logan, he turned back toward colt and asked, “soooooooo? was that her?”

“yeah,” he admitted begrudgingly, “but don’t say anything.”

logan held a hand to his chest, wounded. “it really hurts my feelings that you think i’d be so uncool. dude, i want you to get laid.”

colt rolled his eyes. “i don’t need any help getting laid.” and it wasn’t like he was looking to sleep with her and never call her again.

“i know, but --” ellie and one of her friends came out the front door, walking over as soon as they caught sight of them. the girl ellie had brought with her started talking to christina as logan led the group down the street, and colt was surprised when ellie hung back and fell into step with him, at the back of the group.

“so -- you been over here yet?” he asked, pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

“nope. but riya said all the upperclassmen hang out at backyard.”

colt snuck a glance over at her and had to suppress a smile again. “that your friend?”

“uh huh,” she nodded, “we’ve been best friends our whole lives. it was, like, a dream come true when we both got in.”

“cool. well -- backyard is usually pretty fun, but the lacrosse team is living here this year so we’ll have to see if they can hang.”

“who’s your friend?” ellie asked abruptly. when he looked over at her again, he saw that she was staring at logan. he’d recognize the look on her face anywhere. he’d seen it on tons of girls’ faces before.

ellie was biting her bottom lip.

“that’s my roommate,” he answered stiffly. “logan.”

“he’s really hot,” she murmured thoughtlessly, almost to herself. the sound of her voice was soft, each word starting to slur together.

colt rolled his eyes. he quickened his pace to catch up to some of the other guys.

“hey!” ellie huffed, and he heard the sound of her shoes on the sidewalk as she rushed to be beside him again, “wait up.”

the off-campus housing that had always been a party spot had gotten the name ‘backyard’ for said impressive feature; the grass was packed with undergrads when colt and everyone else made their way outside. as soon as they found chase and sean, one of them passed him a lit joint, which he accepted gratefully, thinking there were few things he might’ve liked more, at that moment, than being too high to think about any of the things that were bothering him.

ellie appeared beside him suddenly. “you smoke?”

he stared back at her blankly, and then took another hit. “weed? yeah.”

“oh.” she blinked, looking from him to chase and back again. “can i try it?”

chase shrugged at her. “be my guest,” colt said flatly, passing her the joint and leaving her with the group, walking over to the keg.

logan jogged over while he was filling a cup. colt passed him the first one and went to get another. “so? how’s it going?”

he rolled his eyes. “she’d rather talk to you. it’s whatever.”

logan frowned at him. “i’m obviously not going to --”

“i literally don’t care. it’s fine.” colt walked away before logan could continue. he had only a moment to scan the backyard for someone he actually wanted to talk to before ellie popped into his field of vision again.

“are you mad at me?” she demanded, frowning at him.

“nope.” the girl from howl who’d talked to him about cars for an hour was waving at him from over by the fence. colt pushed past ellie to go talk to her again. “i owe you one,” he grinned when he approached, “you saved me from an unbelievably awkward situation.”

the answering smile she sent his way was wide -- all teeth. “then you should come home with me.”

he blinked. colt racked his brain, trying to remember if she’d told him her name. “do you live on campus?”

she nodded. “in south. but my roommate’ll be sleeping over here with her boyfriend.”

if she lived in south, she was probably an upperclassman. unfortunately, that didn’t bring him any closer to remembering her name.

he squinted at her, then ducked his head, as bashfully as he could manage. “i forgot your name.”

admitting as much was a risk, but it paid off -- she only laughed at him, and then said, “olivia. so? you wanna get out of here?”

more than anything. he nodded, reaching down and threading his fingers through hers. “let me just tell my roommate.”

she let him tug her over to where logan was standing with the rest of their friends. “i’m leaving,” he said, clapping logan on the shoulder. logan frowned at him for a moment before he caught sight of olivia, and then he grinned widely.

“nice. see you later.”

colt nodded at everyone else before they left, pointedly not scanning the crowd for one last glimpse of ellie.

he was a fucking idiot for thinking he should pursue something there in the first place, probably. whatever dumb little crush he had on her because she’d impressed him a couple of times had to go.

fortunately, he’d already found another way to occupy his time -- even if it was only for tonight.

he was late to law & psych again on thursday, and everyone in the room was sitting in the same seats they’d taken on monday -- which meant the only open desk was in the front, again, next to ellie.

she shot him a deeply unimpressed look when he slunk into his seat and dropped his head in his hands. like she had on monday, she seemed wide awake and much too excited; she was drinking water again.

“hi,” she said pointedly, like he was ignoring her or something.

colt arched an eyebrow at her. “hi?”

ellie huffed. “where’d you disappear to on tuesday?”

“uh...” he rubbed at his eyes, still feeling exhausted. “just went back to campus, i guess.”

she looked almost... embarrassed, not that he understood why. professor morrell called everyone to attention before she could say anything, and though he really didn’t give a shit, he still turned back to the front of the room, slumping down in his seat as he went.

he did his best to pay attention for most of class, but found himself zoning out for the next hour -- pretty much sleeping with his eyes open. the only part of the lecture he actually caught was five minutes before class was scheduled to end, when dr. morrell said, “and before we go, i’ll assign the partners and topics for the first project so you guys can get started over the weekend, if you want.”

yeah, that was exactly how he wanted to spend his weekend. he rolled his eyes as she started passing out readings. though he was only half-paying attention, he did realize that she was working her way clockwise around the room... and everything slowed to a stop when she paused in front of his desk and said, “ellie and colt. your topic is false confessions. i look forward to seeing your presentation.”

he probably should’ve seen that one coming. it was par for the course with his life, honestly -- just his fucking luck.

he flipped absently through the reading she’d given them and then sighed, handing it to ellie.

“don’t look so thrilled,” she said as she took it from his hands. “come on. we can work out a schedule for when we’re going to work on this.”

they headed toward the building they had social psych together in, side-by-side. ellie kept her eyes on the reading as they went, and he took advantage of the fact that her gaze was averted to study her in turn, analyzing the expression her face calculatingly.

“i’ve read this study before,” she said finally, “this won’t be that hard. we can split the lit review and then i’ll work on the analysis and you can do the conclusion.”

“okay,” he said, a little startled by the way she seamlessly doled out orders. “sure.”

ellie snuck a glance up at him, then, and he didn’t look away, even when she caught him staring. her cheeks were a little flushed when she drew in a breath and said, “okay. do you want to work on it this weekend?”

“that’s fine.”

they crossed the quad together in silence. as they neared the building their next class was in, she hesitantly started, “so -- your roommate...”

colt tensed, but otherwise didn’t say anything. the expression on his face soured when, a moment later, ellie continued, “is he single?”

try as he might to force his face blank, he could feel his look of distaste twisting further into a scowl. “i guess.” at least he’d been drunk the last time she’d subjected him to this.

ellie either didn’t notice his attitude or didn’t care to comment on it; she breezed right past the dark tone of his voice when she said, “cool, because my friend riya -- from tuesday? -- thinks he’s really cute, and i think they’d be perfect together. but she had this awful breakup last spring and i don’t want to set her up with just anyone, so --”

his sneer cleared as she kept blabbing, and he slowly tuned her voice out in favor of the pounding of his own heart. so she hadn’t been asking for herself.

that was... an interesting development, for sure. for sure.

“colt?” he shook himself from his thoughts and looked back at her. ellie frowned at him, her eyes narrowing. “were you even listening to me?”

“yeah, your friend. bad breakup. high school drama.” he shot her a winning smile as he opened the door for her, following behind her and letting it swing shut in the face of whatever underclassmen were coming in behind them.

“maybe we can all do something this weekend,” she suggested, as they made their way down the hallway to the classroom, “get drinks or something after we work on the project?”

“definitely.” fuck. that answer had probably come too quickly to be considered cool, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by ellie -- she was looking at him from under her eyelashes, smiling shyly.

she looked really pretty. fuck.

she followed him to the back of the room again even though they were right on time today and there were plenty of open seats. he wondered what the fuck she was doing when ellie slid into the same desk she’d sat in on monday; she clearly wasn’t a back of the classroom type of girl. but here she was.

“give me your phone.”

he startled. “what? why?”

“so i can give you my number?” again, the look on her face seemed to suggest he was the biggest idiot she’d ever had the displeasure of talking to. “how else are we going to find a time to work on the project?”

colt passed it over wordlessly, watching while she plugged her phone number in and then texted herself before handing it back. “thanks,” he said stupidly, with no idea why.

“just try not to ditch me again.” the look on her face had him feeling weirdly guilty, like they’d gone to the party together, or something -- like he hadn’t left her with all of her friends. he suddenly wondered how much she actually remembered, if she saw him leave hand-in-hand with olivia or not.

try not to act like you want to fuck my roommate, he thought to himself, the words on the tip of his tongue.

before he could put his foot in his mouth, the professor called class to attention. he sat in silence for most of the next hour and a half, until he answered a question and ellie said --

“actually, colt’s forgetting that schemas related to behaviors are known as scripts, and a widely different concept.”

“they’re actually not a different concept at all,” colt said, before the professor could correct her, “they’re a deviation of the same concept on a technical level but operate in pretty much the same way where modification and therapy are concerned.”

“colt’s correct,” the professor said, shooting them both a strange look before walking back to the board at the front of the room, “which brings us to next week’s reading by abelson. we’ll be discussing chapter four in more detail on monday...”

he turned and smiled smugly at ellie. she looked just as deeply annoyed with him as ever, seething at her desk.

never one to quite know when to stop, he couldn’t resist leaning in and whispering, “maybe you shouldn’t have skipped intro to psych after all,” gratified by the way her hands clenched into fists and how she stared him down with the dirtiest look she could muster.

suddenly the semester had gotten fun again.

working on their project together went surprisingly well. much better than he had expected it to, given their track record.

but ellie was smart and sharp and witty in a way that felt like something he’d been waiting for without outright searching for it.

admittedly, he’d caught himself staring at her more than a few times, his eyes mapping the curve of her neck when her head bent low into his textbook, which was used, and therefore free game for her to mark up with highlighter.

they were probably sitting too close for the library. all the private rooms were taken when they’d first arrived, so they’d found a table in the upper level of the atrium, and though it was sort of secluded in the back corner by the windows they were far from alone.

but that didn’t stop his mind from wandering.

“look at this study,” ellie said suddenly, sliding a piece of paper under his nose and forcing him to tear his eyes away from the dip of her cupid’s bow, “what kassin says here about compliance will be an important point for us.”

“god, aren’t you tired yet?” he was almost impressed. it’d been hours. “look around. it’s dark out. you have to at least be hungry.”

ellie’s lips pursed into a thin line. she sighed, but begrudgingly admitted, “okay, i’m a little hungry.”

his grin widened, toeing the line between obnoxious and charming he so often straddled. “we made really good progress.” well. she had, at least. “let’s call it for tonight. come on, it’s friday.”

she wavered for another minute, but he knew he had her. it still felt like a victory when she finally nodded. “fine. we did make pretty good progress. maybe we can meet up again on sunday?”

he stared at her as she stretched in her chair, arching her back and raising her arms above her head. “sure. are you going out tonight?”

ellie’s lips twisted into a grimace, and she shook her head. “i wasn’t planning on it. i have a meeting with my advisor early tomorrow morning.”

“on a saturday?” someone sitting at one of the other tables chose that moment to shush them, loudly, and he twisted around to glare at them over his shoulder as ellie packed up her books and stood. he only looked away to follow her out, though she waited until they were in the stairwell to talk again.

“yes, on a saturday. i just want to make sure i’m staying on track.”

colt arched his eyebrows at her as he held open the door to the lobby. “it’s the first week of the semester.”

“well, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” ellie huffed, stepping smoothly past his arm and striding to the exit, “school is really important to me.”

“okay,” he said, trying to stifle the smirk that was threatening, “so if you’re such a goody-two-shoes, how’d you wind up missing the deadline to pick classes? doesn’t seem like something that’d just slip your mind.”

ellie’s smile dipped while they made their way back across the lawn. “um.” her voice was suddenly much quieter, and he watched one of her shoulders lift in an unsure shrug before she stiffly continued, “my mom. she’d been sick for awhile, but... over the summer -- she died. i honestly just forgot about registering.”

“fuck,” colt sighed, before he could stop himself and think for a second about what he was saying, “i’m an asshole. i’m sorry, i didn’t --”

“please,” ellie said, already shaking her head, “you couldn’t have known. but... that’s what happened. and i totally had a meltdown when i realized and i seriously almost just deferred a semester to get around it, but i guess everything wound up working out.”

he was surprised to see her sneaking a glance up at him as they walked. immediately, he averted his eyes. “i guess,” he allowed, decidedly ignoring the strange and unfamiliar feeling that was abruptly squeezing his chest tight, “but, still. that really sucks. i’m sorry.”

“don’t be,” she murmured. her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. ellie cleared her throat, her voice a little brighter when she said, “hey -- do you... want to get dinner? um, if you’re not going out or anything.”

as if. she was the only person who’d been able to get him to go out since he fucking came to this stupid school. “yeah. i mean -- i’m not. so that’d be cool.” maybe he still had a shot at impressing her. “actually, can i show you something? do you like tacos?”

“oh.” she looked surprised, both by his agreement and his suggestion, but despite how floored she seemed she still smiled in a way that lit up her whole face, and he was amazed to notice that she had a dimple he’d somehow never seen before right now. “i love tacos.”

ellie didn’t say another word until they were both sitting down on the edge of the roof, styrofoam takeout boxes balanced in their laps, so he had no idea what her opinion was on any of it.

she’d remained coy while he led her to his favorite off-campus hole-in-the-wall, quiet when he’d dragged her back to the biology building and forced her up five flights of stairs, silent save for a pointed raised eyebrow when he shoved his shoulder into the door marked roof access - custodial staff only until it popped open and they emerged out onto the roof, easygoing but still a little cautious when he led her over to the edge and sat down with his legs dangling over the side of the building.

now, she had pineapple juice dripping down her thumb as she cradled her al pastor in her hands, giving him carte blanche to stare at her while her own eyes looked out at the city.

he was desperate to know her take on it all, and frustratingly close to demanding well?! before she eventually spoke up and put him out of his misery.

“this is a great view.”

colt finally diverted his gaze to his own tacos. “don’t tell anyone about it. it’s a secret.”

“that’s a funny way of saying breaking and entering.”

he rolled his eyes at her, gently shoving his shoulder into hers. “what they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em. besides, we’re not doing anything wrong.”

ellie shrugged her shoulders sheepishly. “i’ve never done anything like this before.”

“we can leave, if you want,” he offered. “i just wanted to show you the city.”

“no.” colt watched her shake her head rapidly, and then ellie leaned in and bumped her shoulder back against his in return. “i didn’t mean it like that. i guess i’m just -- trying to explain. why you think i’m lame.”

he frowned. “i don’t think you’re lame.”

ellie laughed, ducking her head and poking at the styrofoam container in her lap. “you don’t?”

“no. why, because you’re not out tonight? i’m not, either.” in fact, he could probably count all the nights he’d been out since he’d moved in last year on one hand.

“not only that.” she paused thoughtfully, stopping to take a bite of her taco. “because i take school so seriously, i guess.”

colt set his food aside to lean back on his palms, looking out over the city. “there’s nothing wrong with wanting to do well. you’d be, like, my parents’ dream child. i’m sure they both wish i’d take this even half as seriously as you do.”

her head turned, and he caught a glimpse of her soft smile out of the corner of his eyes. “did you miss the deadline to register for classes on purpose?”

he nodded. “i’ve been trying to get kicked out since i got here. it’s harder than you’d think.”

ellie laughed. “why would you want to get kicked out? most people would kill to be here.”

“well, i’m not like most people.” colt pushed the toes of his shoes against the loose edge of the roof, silently debating the rest of his answer. “i never wanted to go to college. but shipping me out here so i’d be out of my dad’s way is the only thing my parents ever agreed on.”

“where’re you from, again?”

“los angeles. but i’ve been with my mom ever since my folks split in denver. my dad -- it’s complicated.”

she was quiet. he wondered what she was thinking. after a moment, she said, “i’m from l.a., too.”

colt’s eyebrows arched high. “really? small world.”

“nothing was the same after my mom got sick, though. my dad never let me out of his sight. it got to a point where being home felt like being in prison.” ellie hesitated, her eyes still on the skyline. “part of me was so relieved to come here that i still feel guilty about it.”

“you shouldn’t feel guilty. it’s your life. you should get a chance to live it.” his brow furrowed as he turned to look at her fully, staring at her profile where she was half-lit by the lights dotting their campus. “you deserve to make your own decisions.”

“i know.” ellie closed the container in her lap, then set it aside. she dusted off her hands and finally tilted her head to look at him, a small smile playing at her lips. “that’s the part i’m most afraid of. not -- taking these chances, and doing all this stuff. but -- messing it up. not doing enough, you know? letting... this opportunity to finally be myself pass me by.”

“yeah.” of course he knew what she meant. that was pretty much what he’d spent the last year doing. “well, you should get out more, then. do all the shit you always wanted to do that your dad never let you try.”

“like what?”

he laughed. “fuck if i know. i thought a girl like you would have a list all ready to go.”

“well...” colt glanced down and saw that she was biting at her bottom lip, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to say whatever was about to come out. “i’ve always wanted to learn to drive.”

“okay.” his left palm spread over hers from behind, and he fanned his fingers out on top of hers, gently pressing her hand around the lever. “this is the clutch. it’s how you shift gears.”

ellie shifted from where she was straddling the bike in front of him. he felt her fingers wiggle underneath his, and saw her head bob with a nod. “got it.”

his right hand curled over hers, gripping the handlebar. “this is the throttle.” colt shifted their hands to the lever beyond the handlebar. “and this is the front brake.”

she hummed, her bare arms warm against his. the parking lot he’d left his bike in was deserted, except for the two of them -- they were pretty far on the outskirts of campus, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of everyone getting ready to go out on a friday night. “what about the back brake?”

colt’s right foot gently kicked hers. “feel the lever down here?”

ellie’s sneaker fumbled around, the heel of her shoe kicking him in the shin before she found it. “uh huh.”

“basically, the right side of the bike is for accelerating and braking. the left side is just to switch gears.”

“this seems a lot more complicated than a car.”

“hey, you want to learn to drive, don’t you? this is the best i can do right now.” but maybe if he ever made it back to l.a. with her, he could show her a really good time. “look, i’ll handle changing gears, okay? you just worry about the throttle. and brake when i tell you to.”

“but how will i know when to accelerate?” her voice sounded a little worried, like maybe she was starting to have second thoughts. he kept his right hand held firmly over ellie’s, moving it to the handlebar before pushing his fingers through hers.

“i’ll give you a squeeze. don’t worry, i’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

the words left his mouth before he could even think about them. he blinked at her, a long moment of silence stretching between them. ellie leaned her back against his chest, her thumb stroking the side of his hand.

he had the sudden urge to kiss her.

“you have a helmet, right?”

colt jolted out of his thoughts, then slid off the bike to pull it out for her. “yeah, of course. here.” it was a little big on her, but it did the trick -- he pulled it down over her head with a grin, endeared by the way she posed playfully once it was on.

“how do i look?”

“like a total babe,” he answered honestly, pulling his jacket off, too, before handing it to her. “here. better put this on, too.”

“why?” she asked, but she was obligingly slipping her arms into it. like the helmet, it was way too big on her, but unlike the helmet, the sight of her inside of it stirred something within him that he had trouble ignoring. he reached out and settled the jacket on her shoulders more firmly.

“in case you fall. it’ll protect you.”

“i thought you said you weren’t going to let anything happen to me,” ellie hummed, staring at the way the sleeves of the jacket hung down over her knuckles. in the low light of the dark parking lot, it almost looked like she was blushing a little.

“i’m not, but it doesn’t hurt to have an insurance policy.” colt reached out and slid the face shield on the helmet down, over her eyes. “come on.”

ellie got back onto the bike from the left side, just like he’d showed her. she really was smart -- probably even too smart for this stupid school -- and quick, too. her hands found the handlebars straightaway, and he moved snugly up behind her, his arms keeping her close.

their joined left hands pulled the clutch. he shifted to thumb the kill switch with his right hand, and the bike jolted to life beneath them, ellie jerking with it. colt leaned in toward her ear even with the helmet in the way. “relax,” he said, raising his voice a little to be sure she’d hear him, “i know what i’m doing.”

she still squeaked a little when he let the clutch out and the bike slowly started to roll forward. “colt --” her voice was panicked. “help, what do i do?”

“just like we talked about,” he encouraged, “put your feet up. then hit the throttle.”

ellie drew in a deep breath. he could feel her along his chest, and squeezed her hand reassuringly. after a moment, she revved the engine, and then they were off -- a little unsteadily, but in a straight line, at least, heading down the length of the parking lot.

“oh my god! oh my god, i’m doing it. oh my god!”

she was too cute for her own good. the excited tone of voice she had made him grin unabashedly into the air behind her, and he leaned back a little to give her more control, impressed by how smooth her handle on the bike was, for her first time. was there anything she wasn’t fucking good at?

“okay,” he said finally, once they started to run out of space, “both breaks, then your left foot. you’ve got it.” he pulled down on the clutch for her, and then ellie easily halted the bike to a stop. he exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, but there’d been nothing to worry about -- she was a natural.

“wow,” she gushed, practically jumping off the bike, turning around to face him and throwing the helmet off, “i can’t believe i just drove a motorcycle! i can’t believe you do that every day.”

“you did pretty good,” he praised, “for your first time. a few more lessons and you’ll be a pro.”

“really?” now her cheeks really were flushed, rosy and delighted as she beamed at him with pride. “you’d let me drive your bike again?”

“if you want.” thank god they were alone. if logan could see them he’d be insufferable. even colt could admit this was wildly out of character for him, but he would’ve given anything, just then, to keep her smiling like that. “you wanna see what she can really do? i’ll take us for a ride. all you have to do is hold on.”

“definitely,” ellie grinned immediately, pulling the helmet back on. he’d expected to have to convince her a little more, but -- maybe there was more to her than he’d thought.

a dangerous prospect, given how much he already liked what little he knew.

he waited until she was secure behind him before tearing out of the parking lot and away from campus entirely, taking empty side streets until they were on the highway that’d lead them out of the city. ellie’s hands stayed warm around his waist, and after a few minutes, she leaned her cheek against his shoulder, too, settling something peaceful in his chest. companionable quiet stretched between them while he drove, as fast as he could, just so she’d laugh with exhilaration like she did when he got them into the triple-digits.

eventually he pulled over in a random, deserted park. there weren’t any streetlights in this part of the city, so it was dark, and he could only barely see ellie when he killed the engine and she pulled off her helmet to look at him curiously.

“so?” he asked, “how was it? everything you’ve been waiting for?”

“totally.” ellie grinned at him, so widely her dimple popped out. “i know it sounds cheesy, but tonight... is the most i’ve ever felt like myself. do you know what i mean?”

he was starting to. everything had felt purposeless before she’d showed up here. he’d wanted nothing more than to coast through the next few years, if he absolutely had to.

now it all felt different. because of her.

she was the piece he’d been looking for, something he hadn’t even known he wanted but now was desperate to make his. ellie was sharp and beautiful and headstrong, all the things he needed to fit into the void he was suddenly hoping she’d actually be interested in filling.

“it’s not cheesy if it makes you happy,” was what he settled on, swallowing some of the sudden intensity that was slowly taking him over. “you’ve held back for long enough. you should do whatever you want.”

“you’re right.” ellie’s eyes slid over to meet his, and she smiled at him through the dark, her expression soft and sweet.

colt’s heart thumped loudly. that urge to kiss her was back again, stronger than before. he wasn’t usually the sort of person that resisted an impulse, but part of him was terrified of pushing for more than she was comfortable with, scaring her away with his intensity. he knew he wasn’t the kind of guy a girl like her could handle.

but maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did, yet. ellie leaned in and pressed her lips against his, without warning, surprising him still. colt’s eyes went wide with shock before they slid shut and he kissed her back, twisting on the bike to slide an arm around her shoulders and yank her in as close as she could get.

ellie’s arms, still covered by the fabric of his leather jacket, wound around his waist. she kissed shyly, like she was worried she might be bad at it, but let him take the lead -- and eventually her mouth opened up under his and she shivered in his grip and gave back as good as she was getting, until his mind was blank and the only thing he could focus on was her, under his hands.

they both pulled away at the same time, struggling to catch their breath. she was looking at him like he assumed he must’ve been looking at her: in complete shock, her eyes wide. “wow.”

“yeah.” there was a sarcastic quip on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it in favor of studying her face some more -- her cheeks were as flushed as her red lips, which were slowly starting to curve up into a gentle smile. “you ok?”

“um, that was my first kiss,” she admitted, ducking her head. the few strands of hair that weren’t pulled back into her ponytail fell around her face. “i’m probably not helping on the whole you thinking i’m lame front, huh?”

his brain felt like it was short circuiting. “you -- i -- for real?”

“okay, it’s not like i didn’t have options,” she started defensively, rushing to explain, “it just never felt like the right time, and i was waiting for something special, and -- this felt special to me.” her eyes flashed, as though she was waiting for him to start making fun of her at any moment. that was probably fair -- he’d definitely thought about it. “i like you.”

“i like you, too.” probably more than he should. definitely more than he’d ever set out to like anyone, when he’d packed up all his shit and agreed to give this stupid college thing a try.

but she was a distraction he felt was worth the risk.

the expression on her face transformed into something cautiously pleased. “you do?”

“you’re kidding, right? ask logan -- this is the most i’ve left my room in three semesters. i’ve been losing my mind trying to impress you.”

her eyebrows arched. “really? it sure hasn’t seemed that way to me.”

“well -- you were giving me mixed signals.”

he smirked as her expression turned indignant. “i was giving you mixed signals? you went home with that girl!”

colt winced. he was really hoping she hadn’t noticed that. “i thought you were asking me about logan for yourself.”

ellie stared blankly back at him. “oh my god, you’re an idiot.”

“we’re both idiots,” he corrected, rolling his eyes at her.

just as she opened her mouth to bite back, a loud roll of thunder cut through the stillness surrounding them. “shit,” colt sighed, “we should --”

rain started to pour down in heavy sheets, immediately soaking his t-shirt through to the skin. ellie yelped, fumbling for her helmet while he quickly started the bike up again, waiting for her to squeeze her arms around him before speeding back to campus as quickly as possible.

the foot traffic in his building was minimal -- they’d managed to find the sweet spot in the middle of the night where everyone who’d gone out to party was out already, and it was too soon for people to be coming back, so they had their run of the hallways when they rushed inside.

they both laughed breathlessly as they raced up the stairs and into his dorm, dripping water all over the floor.

“god, sorry about your jacket,” ellie said, stripping out of it and leaving it on one of the desk chairs, accepting the towel he passed over to her with a smile.

“it’s fine,” colt said, rubbing his own towel over his hair. “sorry about your -- everything.”

ellie dissolved into giggles that tapered off when he pulled off his soaked t-shirt and flung it into the corner of the room where the rest of his laundry was waiting.

she was staring.

“see something you like?”

the sound of his voice appeared to startled her into looking away, and she laughed again, more nervously this time. “don’t be a dick. you know you’re hot.”

“maybe, but i wanna hear you say it,” he said obnoxiously, his grin widening. “do you think i’m hot?”

ellie drew the towel in her hands around her shoulders, pursing her lips at him. “i think you’re smug, arrogant, obnoxious and wasting your potential.”

if it were at all possible, his grin grew larger. “and?”

she sighed, rolling her eyes heavenward. “and you’re obviously very hot.”

“thank you,” colt said primly, “was that so hard?”

ellie rubbed the towel around her down her arms again before whipping it off and smacking him gently with it. “your ego doesn’t need any more compliments from me.”

colt caught the towel in his hand and used it to tug her in closer. “maybe,” he allowed, dropping his voice as soon as she came near, “but you’re the only one i actually wanna hear them from.”

she blinked at him. her eyes dropped to his mouth.

slowly and deliberately, he wound the towel around his hand, pulling ellie in the last few steps it’d take to close the distance between them. she stumbled forward, reaching out and resting her hands on his arms.

colt locked eyes with her, trying to read her gaze for a sign that he should stop. but there wasn’t one.

he bowed his head and pressed their lips together again, softly at first and then, when she didn’t step on his foot and elbow him in the stomach, a little more boldly, firmly working his mouth against hers.

ellie slid her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, pushing her fingers into his wet hair and angling him in deeper. for someone who’d only just had her first kiss, she had killer instincts -- something he was already looking forward to exploring.

if he’d been waiting for a sign that she was the missing his piece his life had needed, this sure felt like it, or something close to it. she was both the type of girl he’d never go after and exactly what he’d been unknowingly wanting for a long time all rolled into one devastatingly sexy and infuriating package. for as long as colt could remember, he’d assumed there was something unsavory about the way he couldn’t bring himself to consider anyone else he met an equal -- like maybe there just wasn’t anyone else as smart, interesting or determined as him, but... ellie somehow managed to be all that and more.

they had a surprising amount in common. even more surprisingly, that felt like something positive, instead of a curse.

he settled his hands on the small of her back and pulled her in closer, fascinated by the way his thumbs touched as his hands caged her narrow waist. the urge to get her underneath him on his bed swelled until it was no longer ignorable, though just as he started to walk her back over to it, the door to the room swung open abruptly.

they sprang apart as logan stumbled into the dorm. he looked surprised to see them, but then a wide smile lazily overtook his face and he said, “woah, sorry. i can come back later.”

colt glared at him, but it didn’t stop logan from looking between the two of them with his eyebrows arched meaningfully. “yeah, you should --”

“it’s fine,” ellie said loudly, cutting him off. “is it still raining outside?”

logan blinked, seemingly noticing ellie’s damp hair and colt’s bare chest for the first time. “oh. no.”

ellie squeezed his hand, looking back at him questioningly. “walk me home?”

he exhaled, already nodding as he moved to find a new shirt. “yeah. one sec.”

“good to see you, ellie,” logan nodded, still grinning at the both of them even when colt rolled his eyes and started dragging her towards the door, “come back soon, okay?”

ellie shivered the whole way back to her dorm, making him wish he’d grabbed his jacket again before they left. it was mostly quiet while they walked, though the closer they got to the freshmen buildings the louder campus became, with the night getting late enough that people were finally starting to make their way home from the bars.

“so much for my meeting with my advisor tomorrow,” ellie said when they slowed to a stop outside of her building, her jaw cracking with a wide yawn. he shrugged at her, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

this was new to him. part of his brain was insistent that maybe what they’d just done could technically count as a date, though that thought was admittedly a little uncomfortable to confront.

he didn’t think he’d ever been on a date like this before, or, at the very least -- not one that he’d cared about quite so much.

but then she smiled at him, and provided a momentary reprieve from his over-analyzing. “this was fun. maybe next weekend you can help me try something else new.”

colt licked his lips and smirked at her. “i have a few ideas.”

ellie immediately caught on to his implication and flushed pink. the way she smiled softly as she glanced away was almost worryingly cute. “we still have to finish our project.”

“i know. i’m not gonna leave you hanging.” he continued to stare down at her even as her gaze flit around the small section of campus her dorm was tucked away in, looking out over the lawn in front of her building and back to him again.

“you mean that?”

“yeah.” ellie finally looked back at him, then, and caught his eyes. he felt one corner of his mouth lift despite himself into a lopsided smile.

“you’re not gonna get kicked out of school?” something like vulnerability shone in her eyes.

“well -- not before next weekend,” colt answered obnoxiously.

he was hoping to make her laugh, and she did. she reached up and hit his shoulder. “i’m being serious!”

“i know you are.” he paused. getting kicked out of school had always been step one of the plan. if his fucking parents weren’t going to take him seriously, he was going to have to make them -- that started with putting college in his rearview mirror, one way or another.

changing course at this point felt like a weakness.

but she looked pretty hopeful.

“look,” he sighed, “what do you want me to say? i can’t predict the future.”

maybe it was crazy to even think about putting everything on hold for someone he’d literally just fucking met, but there was no denying the way his pulse sped up anxiously when she frowned and ducked her head to stare at her toes.

“i’m not trying to start something that’s just going to set me up to get hurt,” ellie said.

she had a point. he should probably let her get away now, then -- there was no guarantee he wouldn’t hurt her; in fact, it was probably a safe bet he’d do just the opposite. his life wasn’t structured to accommodate a girlfriend.

...but maybe it was time he learned to adapt.

there were few things colt could promise her with certainty that he wouldn’t break them, but there was one thing he had absolute control over. “okay. you want me to promise you i’ll stop trying to get kicked out of school? it’s done. i promise.”

ellie blinked. she looked stunned, as though he’d said the absolute last thing she’d been expecting to hear come out of his mouth. “really?”

“sure.” the look on her face was soothing, a reassurance that despite how new all of this was to him, he wasn’t completely bombing. “as long as you’ll keep making it all suck less.”

everything had seemed markedly less annoying since he’d met her, just a week ago. classes were fun again with someone on his level to argue with, someone whose buttons he could press effortlessly and who always reacted so perfectly when he did. weekends were filled with promise, an opportunity to do something other than sulk in his room suddenly on the horizon.

time no longer felt wasted or like it was dragging at a snail’s pace -- at least not when she was around. now he was desperate for it to slow down, so he could spend even just a few more minutes talking to her, learning her viewpoint on anything and everything, figuring out what made her fucking tick.

...getting her to sigh in that sweet way she did when their lips touched.

“i think i can do that,” she smiled, setting an unfamiliar warm feeling loose within him. optimism, his brain helpfully suggested. maybe the rest of the semester won’t be that bad.

maybe this college thing had its merits after all.

#rodaw #colt kaneko #ellie wheeler #colt kaneko x mc #choices rod #colt kaneko x ellie wheeler #listen i have never once pretended to not be a sucker for college aus #long post #myfic #i read 2 of my old term papers again so i could have accurate classroom dialogue for this #i also had to read a wikihow on how to ride a motorcycle #anyway ummmm i love them your honor #there's nothing n/s/f/w in this one if anyone was wondering #just swearing and absurdity #and the subtext #ride or die

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kbstories · 4 years

Text

Axiomatic

ax·i·om·at·ic (adj.)

Self-evident; unquestionable.

The best part of battle is the afterparty.

(Or: Remember that banquet Luffy promised? This is it.)

Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Partying

Set in Wano. Spoilers for all of Wano. Read Chapter 2 here.

***

“What do you think?”

Lipstick glides over thin lips, the wax malleable and smooth as it leaves a coat of rusty red in its wake. Killer makes sure it’s perfectly even before he glances elsewhere. In the mirror, Kidd’s face is all scowled impatience.

One last run-down – eyeliner, mascara, lipstick: done, done and done – then Killer grabs the mask waiting for him. “Alright, let me see.”

Their eyes meet and Killer sighs. Metal over skin-and-bone, Kidd’s arms are crossed; his shaved brows push together further. As if Killer doesn’t indulge his every whim by the regular.

“I’m looking. Show me again.”

Kidd grumbles, “Watch.” He opens his arms, reveals an unbuttoned shirt tucked into his favorite patterned pants, glinting gold over black under a double-belted cinch at the waist. So far, so very Kidd.

No, the point of discussion is the frankly massive coat slung across his neck: Nice soft-looking suede on the outside and glossy-grey fur on the inside, it hugs Kidd’s shoulders in all the right places to then cascade down his back in a display of near-ridiculous opulence.

Extravagant, over-the-top, flashy. It’s hard to tell which type of animal had to die for this. There must be a lot less of ‘em now, with this monstrosity in the world.

Kidd is swiveling it back and forth with critical glances to the mirror, the coat wooshing with the motions. Killer takes in the fluid glide of fur over Kidd’s exposed chest, the contrast of impeccable couture against jagged scars. Loses himself for a moment or two imagining how it would feel like to run his hands over both.

An appreciative hum. In Killer’s educated opinion, Kidd looks damn near sinful.

“Yeah?”, Kidd asks and Killer nods. “Yeah. Heh, told ya the detour’s worth it.”

Perhaps it was, although sifting through Onigashima’s treasury whilst bleeding all over heaps of shiny expensive everything might’ve been a case of skewed priorities. There’s no need to talk about what-could-have-beens, though – they’re here, they’re rich and they’re long overdue at Strawhat’s banquet.

Killer’s practically done, tight jeans under a shirt that’s done up to the third button and left to flare open otherwise. It’s not his old favorite (that one stopped fitting him a good year ago) but similar enough, patterned in geometric black-and-white shapes. Definitely one of his fancier ones, not that anyone will care one way or the other where they��re going.

It’s… been a while since it’s been anyone other than them and their crew. Pirates are pirates, allied or no; Killer eyes the scythes neatly stored next to the bed.

Kidd is touching up his lips one last time, the same shade as Killer’s. “Bring ‘em. That Roronoa guy keeps throwing you weird looks and I’m not allowed to kill him.”

Yet goes implied. Killer isn’t wearing his mask and so he doesn’t roll his eyes. “He’s got every reason to”, he reminds his captain, focusing on the heavy clasps of his weapons to keep the memories at bay. The red mark on his chest stings, stuck in the limbo between a healing wound and a fresh scar for a few days still.

A testament to his failure that Killer won’t hide. If Zoro hadn’t stopped him that day his hands would be stained with blood that cannot be washed off, not entirely.

Kidd’s eyes are on him, dark. “I don’t care.”

Resentful as always. Killer reaches for him, digs his fingers into the fluffy lining of that coat and oh, the fur is as soft as it looks. “I do, though.” A firm tug, one Kidd follows until Killer can kiss him, careful not to smudge anything.

“No killing of allies today, ‘kay? We just came back from a war. The crew’s tired. I’m tired.”

“Mh” is all Kidd has to say to that, a grumpy huff against Killer’s lips more than anything. Kidd does give him a proper kiss, however, and Killer knows he won this one.

All he can ask of Kidd is to try, anyways – with two equally hot-headed captains and a whole host of morons around to rile him up, there’s bound to be blood eventually. The trick is to make sure everyone’s drunk enough not to take it too personally.

A pinch to his ass tells Killer he was caught scheming. Kidd smirks, tells him, “We’re getting wasted tonight”, all triumphant like it’s the best idea he’s had all week, and Killer doesn’t miss the emphasis on we.

“Two Emperors down! Strawhat better bring the good stuff tonight or this alliance is over.”

Killer groans, “Kidd”, but he’s smiling, too. Before he can be called out on it, Killer shoves his mask into Kidd’s hands, metal clanking against metal. “Make yourself useful. We’re late.”

Kidd’s laugh is more of a cackle than anything else – “Yes, darling”, said in that sarcastic lilt Killer knows all too well – yet Kidd complies. His hands, organic or otherwise, handle the mask they’ve built with care and precision. Soon, Killer’s vision is narrowed down to dots, the audio filter of his helmet kicking in soon after.

Killer rolls his neck and hums, satisfied. “Ready?”

Kidd throws a final look at himself in the mirror, grinning into the collar of his new coat.

“Hell yeah. Let’s go.”

The banquet is a sprawling, messy affair that swallows the entirety of the ramshackle village the Strawhats picked as their home in Wano Country.

From the moment the Kidd Pirates get there they are surrounded. Wherever Killer's eyes roam there are knots of people drinking, eating, laughing and crying, sometimes simultaneously – there, at the heart of it all where the crowd is thickest, burns the largest bonfire Killer has seen in a while, perhaps ever. Smiling faces all around and for once, it doesn’t make Killer’s stomach drop because they’re genuine.

Survivors of SMILE just like him, caught in the rush of real emotions for the first time in who knows how long. Killer has a pretty good idea how that feels like.

Next to him, Kidd is so tense he’s stalking, gaze intense, oozing Haki to keep people away; Wire’s hand is clenched to bloodlessness around his trident while Heat exhales a bit of smoke with every breath and yeah, Killer gets it. Can’t help it himself, either, scythes kept close to his sides to make sure they’re there.

The thing is: They don’t do these kinds of things. Parties, yes, many and often but not like this. Killer can count on one hand the amounts of times the population of any island was actually happy to see them, much less willing to send them off with one big feast.

Actually, he wouldn’t need to count at all because it’s simply never happened. Even filtered by his mask it’s… a lot to take in at once.

The entire damn country is here, it seems, all breathing a collective sigh of relief so monumental the air itself carries their joy. For all that the Kidd Pirates were in this for revenge and glory, Killer can’t deny it’s rewarding to see a nation so ravaged by an Emperor’s greed do whatever they want for the first time in decades.

Finally, a few familiar faces start popping up. Some of the samurai greet them with nods of their heads, overly formal like the people from Wano tend to be; here and there they spot the distinctly branded yukata the members of Trafalgar’s crew are wearing and, rarer but all the more noticeable, those animal people Strawhat dragged along from somewhere.

Minks? Or something? Killer is inclined to say it doesn’t matter if they didn’t have the habit to jump on them out of fucking nowhere. Looking for bone-crushing hugs and wet-nosed kisses, of all things, and– Oh no, he did not sign up for this.

Much less for whatever that group of cat minks are gearing up to, staring at the holes in his mask with eyes nearly swallowed by black, round pupils. Killer is absolutely, solidly convinced he doesn’t even want to know what that’s all about.

“Captain.”

And yeah, his tone is a little more alarmed than he truly means it to be. It gets Kidd’s attention, though – himself having fought off a dog mink enamored with his metal arm not too long ago – and he barks a laugh even when he ramps up his presence to an almost stifling degree.

“C’mon, I feel Strawhat up ahead.”

To nobody’s surprise, they find him smack dab in the middle of everything. Strawhat and his crew are lounging around the bonfire, there’s no other way to describe it: All broad smiles and flushed faces amidst the chaos, completely in their element, and it’s hard to tell if it’s the closeness to the bonfire or the vaguely impressive amounts of empty bottles lying around already. They’re certainly boisterous enough for it to be the latter, even Jinbei.

And no, Killer hasn’t quite processed that turn of events yet. The strangeness of seeing someone of that caliber wheeze into his mug with laughter as his (new?) captain takes a disturbingly big bite out of an even bigger chunk of meat is… not helping things, in that regard.

What a bunch of weirdos. In the safety of his mask, Killer allows himself a small smile.

From here the flames seem to reach for the sky, tinged in warm pinks and oranges by the sinking sun and there, very faintly, Killer can make out the first stars. He can’t remember ever seeing them, not with the factories running over night as well.

“Spikey!!”

Ah. Killer’s head turns with Kidd’s and it’s a good thing, too, because there’s a stretched arm coming for his captain – Kidd bites out, “Nope, no, Strawhat”, red eyes going wide – and Killer manages to side-step it in the last possible second. One, twice it wraps around Kidd, fancy coat and all, and then the rubber recoils.

“Killer!”

Oh my, Killer thinks mildly as he watches him go. Behind him, half their crew is flabbergasted and the other half is in stitches. “Captain’s gonna be in such a mood”, Heat says to Wire, and it just sends them into another fit of chuckles.

For Killer, finding a drink becomes his top priority. So much for keeping things peaceful.

>>Chapter 2.

#one piece #eustass kid #killer one piece #kidkiller #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #this is a setup for smut in chapter 2 ngl #(i just got carried away as per usual)#this fic is also on AO3!!#my stuff #one piece spoilers

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noladyme · 4 years

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Skip To My Lou, My Darling - Chapter 7, This Is How You Remind Me Of What I Really Am II

The road so far...

The day the angels fell from Heaven, Metatron made Lulu a witness. Now she can see angels, even as they hide within their vessels. Holed up in Rufus' old cabin, Lulu is keeping out of sight, apparently to keep both herself and Sam safe - though Dean won't tell her why it's necessary.

Tag list @edonaspanca @wonderlandfandomkingdom

Dean shrugged of his jacket and shirt – and with a hand on my hip, and the other on my bottom – he lifted me up to straddle him. Our lips were locked together – tongues exploring each other – as he carried me towards a door leading to a bedroom. He looked over the bed; apparently checking to see if it was clean enough. Satisfied that it was, he laid me down on it. He quickly removed his t-shirt, and smiled at me softly. “Come here”, I breathed, and reached for his hand. He crawled over me, and brushed his nose against mine; before kissing me again.

Our fingers intertwined, and the bruises on his knuckles made me sigh. I kissed his hand, while Dean looked on in wonder. Letting go of his hand, I ran my hands down Dean’s back; while he buried his face in the crook of my neck – leaving soft kisses on my skin there. “Sugar and spice; and gunpowder…”, he chuckled. “What?”, I laughed softly. “Your smell… It was always sugar and spice and everything nice… Now it’s gunpowder”. “I don’t smell nice anymore?”, I frowned. “You smell even better…”, he smirked. He pressed his lips to mine again, and pulled at my top. I sat up halfway, and let him take it off. It wasn’t long before his expert fingers had unhooked my bra, and he pulled it off me as well – kissing a trail from my collarbone, and down to my mounds; closing his lips around my left nipple, while his fingers stroked my right.

Deans green eyes met mine, as he gently sucked at my sensitive nub; and lifted his head slightly, letting it fall from his lips, and my breast bounce slightly. I chuckled, and pulled his face towards mine again. I spread my legs, and pulled myself backwards on the bed; inviting him to nestle between my thighs. Dean instantly accepted the offer, and pressed his jeans clad harness against my warmth. My breath hitched from the sensation, and my walls clenched slightly. He grinded against me, drawing soft moans from my mouth – and moved his hands to the button of my jeans, opening it and the zipper.

I took a deep breath, and laid on my back. Dean ran his fingers down my torso, between my breasts and down to my navel. His eyes traveled over my skin, as if he was trying to imprint my curves, freckles and dimples into his mind. With a long sigh, Dean sat up, and began pulling at my jeans and panties to get them off me. He kicked his own pants and boxers off, after having removed his boots; and then gestured for me to get on my belly. His fingertips slid down my back, from my shoulders, all the way to my butt; and between my cheeks. I felt him kiss his way down my spine, and back up again. I moved my hair out of the way to allow him access to the sweet spot bellow my ear; and smiled when the tip of his tongue stroked it, and his lips brushed my skin there.

Holding on to the pillow, I let out a gasp when Deans finders traveled down between my cheeks, searching for, and finding, my warmth. His thumb entered me, and his middle and ring finger played with my clit as he pushed my front wall from inside. I desperately wanted him inside me, and reached behind me to grasp his member; which was – to my satisfaction – responding to my touch, and hardening quickly.

As Deans thumb continued pushing and prodding, I felt a tingling from the bottom of my feet, and all the way up my legs – letting me know that my climax was already nearing. I turned my face into the pillow, letting our wanton moans. Dean must have been able to feel my end approaching, because his work in my vagina quickened, and he pressed harder at me. Suddenly, my walls clenched around his thumb, and I cried out into the pillow. Dean removed his thumb, and got on top of me; sliding into me from behind. His hand moved in front of me, and he continued his stroking of my bundle of nerves; trying to draw my orgasm out.

I couldn’t touch him as I lay there; I was completely at his mercy, as the weight of his body held me down, and he slowly – agonizingly slowly – thrusted into me, and rubbed at me. I delighted in the feeling of his chest against my back, holding me down; as he wielded his dominance over me in this manner – but his usual roughness when we would use this position wasn’t there. Once again, I climaxed; with Dean gasping against my neck from the sensation of my walls quivering around his hardness. As I came down, I turned my torso, so I could kiss Dean, and look into his soulful eyes. Dean smiled softly, and pulled out of me, so I could lay on my back instead, and he settled between my thighs, entering me again.

Chest to chest, our movements became like a slow dance; where I would meet his thrusts gently. He looked into my eyes, and parted his lips as if to say something, before he just shook his head, and kissed me. I put my arms around his back, under his arms, as he rested on his elbows on either side of my head, running his fingers through my hair, and stroking my cheek. Dean was tender in his movements, like he worried that he would hurt me. He gently stroked his hand down my arm, and grasped my hand; letting our finger intertwine. With my other arm, I held him closer, and closed my eyes in content pleasure. We couldn’t get any closer, but I wanted him as near and as deep as I could get him.

When I looked at him again, Dean was still staring at me. “What?”, I smiled. “I don’t want to forget how you look right now…”, he croaked. I furrowed my brow. “You’re saying that like you’re afraid I’ll disappear”, I said. “I’m right here…”. He sighed, and buried his face in the crook of my neck again. I stroked the back of his head, and kissed his temple.

Dean began thrusting deeper into me – still gently – and he let go of my hand, to put my leg around his hips. The closeness of his pubic bone to my bundle of nerves, began sending another rush of warmth through me, and I soon began moaning breathily. Dean kept up his rhythmic thrusting; and lifted his head to look at me. He looked at me questioningly; as if asking, is this right? Are you almost there?. I nodded; and dug my fingers into his skin – letting out a loud whimper, as my walls clenched once again around him. Speeding up his thrusts, and pushing harder into me, Dean had me coming around him within seconds, and he followed me close behind – then relaxed in top of me; kissing my cheeks and my forehead, before letting his lips meet mine in a deep kiss.

Gently pulling out of me, Dean laid on his back, and pulled me into his arms; so I rested against his chest. He kissed the top of my head. “I love you, Lou… Please don’t ever forget that”. I looked up at him. “Why are you acting like we’re saying goodbye?”, I croaked. He sighed, and shook his head. “I don’t… It’s not. I’m sorry”. He held me tightly, and I moved to lay on top of him. “When can I see you again?”, I croaked. “I don’t know… I’ll try to come back whenever I can…”. “But you need to do your job. And take care of Sam”, I muttered. “I know”.

Dean cupped my chin, and pressed his lips to mine again. I suckled at his lower lip, and slid my tongue over it. I felt his penis twitch slightly between my thighs. “I thought you were…”, I breathed. “Apparently not”, Dean smirked. He kissed me again, and breathed in. I took his hand, and moved it to my bottom; relishing in how he squeezed at it. I sat up – straddling him – and scooted down, to grab his member in my hands, and stroked it back to full hardness; before raising myself, and sliding down over him again – closing my eyes in pleasure. Dean placed his hands on my hips, and guided my movements. As I moved up and down, he had me circling my hips – his lips parted, and that adorable W between his brows appeared. I ran my index finger from his hairline, and down over it, his nose, and his lips. I circled his nipples with my fingertips, and gasped, when Dean thrusted into me hard in response. I bit my lip, and clenched my muscles around him. His eyes widened. “Did you… again?”. I shook my head and smirked; doing it again – making him almost hiss. “Oh, wow”, he grunted.

He put his hands on my shoulders, and pulled me to lay down on him. “Do it again”, he whispered. I chuckled, and tightened my muscles again – making Dean thrust hard in response. He dug his fingers into my skin, and I ran mine through his hair – kissing him passionately as he continued his movements. I felt the coil inside me tighten, and soon I was clenching without having to work for it. “Lou, you’re gonna make me…”, Dean croaked, before he pushed into me one final time, and letting go, as we came together. He panted into my shoulder. “I love you”, I breathed, and kissed his temple; before climbing off him, and laying down on the bed. “I love you too”, he muttered. “But I have to go”. “I know”, I sighed.

Dean got off the bed, and began getting dressed. He picked up my panties from the floor, and held them up. “Can I keep these?” he smirked. “No, you weirdo!”, I laughed, and got on my knees, snatching the lacy things from him. He put on his boxers and jeans; and pulled his t-shirt over his head. Before he could get to his flannel shirt, I sprang from the bed, and grabbed it. “You took mine”, I said. “Trade you for the panties”, Dean smirked at me. “Not happening”, I smiled, and got on my toes to kiss him.

He put his arms around me; and held me close for a moment, playing with my fingers on the hand in which I held my underwear. The air in the cabin was chilly, and I was getting goosebumps. Dean grabbed the shirt from my hands, and helped me put it on. “There’s firewood in the shed, and an old truck out back. Keys under the seat”, he muttered. “I’ll be fine”, I whispered. “Go…”. He put his forehead to mine, before kissing me one last time, and tearing himself free; walking out the room, with me behind him. At the front door, he paused. “Lock this…”, he said poignantly; then smiled sadly, and closed the door behind him. I locked it, and went to look at him go, by the window.

As Dean entered the Impala, he looked up at me – and with a smirk – he held up my panties, and put them in his pocket; before starting the car, and driving away.

---

Rufus’ cabin was nothing if not safe. It seemed he’d lined all panels with iron, and there were multiple sacks of salt in the shed next to large amounts of firewood, that kept me warm during the night. Summer hadn’t quite taken on just yet, so it was quite cold if I didn’t keep a fire going. I went through drawers and cabinets, finding old pictures of the hunter himself – who I’d never met in person, but only heard about – along with other friends; or rather hunters, I suspected. There were even a few pictures of Bobby strewn about, and I felt my heart skip a beat, from seeing his smiling face look back at me from a polaroid.

There was no food in the cabin, so with a credit card made out to Vivian Campbell – Dean had probably thought the name of the Def Leppard member would make it easier for me to get away with using the card – I drove the old truck into Whitefish proper, and got some basic supplies; including some herbs – just in case I came across a case where I’d need them.

After a few days of going through Rufus’ old papers and books, I was getting restless. I’d get texts from Dean once in a while, mostly to check I was ok, and not chasing down any wendigos or anything else that was out of your league, Lou, as he’d say. Without a computer it was difficult to do any real research, and all I had was an old tv, to keep up to date on what was going on in the world. I noticed a news report on a grizzly finding of two murdered priests. The camera panned over the police cars, and one car I immediately recognized. A black muscle car. “What are you doing, guys…?”, I muttered to myself.

Tamara called me and invited me along on a werewolf hunt, but I declined; knowing she had all the backup she needed. “Are you ok, love? You sound tired”, she asked. “I’m fine. Really. I’m just on the trail of something else right now”, I responded. “You still in Kansas?”, Tamara muttered. “No… Montana. For now”, I said “How are the lads?”. “Good, I think”, I sighed. “We’re taking some time apart”. “Good for you! Don’t let that silly boy run your life”. “He’s not”, I croaked. “We worked it out, don’t worry. On the same page. More or less”. “All right. I have to go. Call me if you need me, yeah?”. I promised her I would, and hung up. Dean wasn’t running my life, but he was keeping me safe, I reminded myself. A bit too safe, I added to myself.

After about a month of the hermit life, I was going stir crazy. Former trips to the library in Whitefish had led to a single salt and burn about 5 hours away, but that was all I’d been able to track down. I packed up the truck with my equipment; set on finding something – anything – to do with my time. I went to the library, and spent some time on a computer, looking for something easy to throw myself at. Suddenly someone touched my shoulder. I turned around startled, and looked into the eyes of a bespectacled man in a dress shirt and knitted vest. “Miss? Are you looking for something specific?”, he asked softly. Behind his glasses, I saw his eyes widen, and recognized him, as I had the maid.

I threw myself backwards, and drew my blade. “Stay away from me!”, I growled. The librarian-angel held up his hands. “I’m not here to hurt you, Lulu. I’m here to protect you”. “From what?”, I snarled. “You jerks have done enough!”. “The witness must be kept safe”, the angel said. “You carry something holy within you”. “What?”, I demanded; holding my blade in front of me. “Something that will lead us to the traitor”. “What traitor? You’re not making any sense!”, I croaked.

The angel stepped forward, cautiously holding his hands up. “We were thrown from our home, to walk this planet with… humans”, he almost sneered. “We deserve recompense. You are our link to that. To him”. I felt my heart beginning to beat fiercely, almost as if leading me forward. Without any real control over it, I stepped forward, and my hand lifted. The angel looked at me confusedly; when suddenly, I ran my blade through his chest, and light streamed from the wound and his eyes. He collapsed on the floor in front of me.

“Oh, god…”, I rasped. I looked around myself, realizing that – lucky for me – our encounter had been hidden by large shelves, and no one was around. I’d just killed an angel. I grabbed my bag, and ran out of the library; throwing myself into the truck. My heart stilled to a normal beating, but I still felt it leading my movements. Grabbing a large map from the glove compartment; and looked it over. Idaho. I need to go to Idaho, I realized. I didn’t know why, but I knew it was my next step. Starting up the car, I put it in drive, and sped out of the lot, and out of Whitefish.

I called up Dean. After three rings, he picked up. “Sorry, Lou. It’s a bad time”. “You’re telling me. I just killed a librarian-angel!”, I croaked. “You… what? What happened?”, Dean demanded. “He was just standing there. Talking about keeping me safe, and using me to find someone”. Dean let out a low growl. “You’re driving. Where are you going?”, he said. “Idaho”, I said. “Why?”. “I just have to”, I muttered. “I think it’s… that thing Metatron did to me. I have to find someone”. Dean paused. “Who’s in Idaho?”, he said. “I don’t know”. “Then go back!”, Dean snarled. “No. I can’t, even if I wanted to. Did you miss the part, where I killed a librarian?”, I yelled. “I wanna come home…”. “You can’t”, Dean sighed. “Not yet… I’ll come meet you”. I clenched my jaw, and winced when the mufflers of the truck didn’t react very well as I went over a speed bump. “No… Stay with Sam. Just get this over with”. “You’re angry, I get it”, Dean tried. “Damn right, I’m angry!”, I said. “I’ve spent weeks in a cold ass cabin waiting for word from you. I can’t even talk to Sam, because you’re telling me it’s unsafe. He’s my friend, Dean!”. “I know, Lou…”. “Do you? I want to help! I want to make sure someone I love heals from what you’re telling me is something really bad, but you won’t let me near…”. “He can’t heal if you see him… Baby… Please. Just let me come meet you”. “No”, I proclaimed. “I’m doing this on my own. I have to. Just get back to… whatever it is you do these days”. I hung op on him, and roared out my frustrations, before throwing the phone on the seat next to me.

I drove for 6 hours straight, with nothing but a voice inside telling me where to go. In Idaho Falls the truck needed gas, and I pulled up to a Gas-N-Sip. When I stepped out of the car, my body suddenly felt warm and my heart began beating hard again. With shaking hands, I filled up the tank, and stepped inside to pay. A friendly looking blonde stood behind the counter. “Hi there. Which pump?”. “Uhm… 3”, I muttered. I handed her my card, and leaned against the counter, my knuckles white from my hold on it. “You just passing through?”, the attendant asked. Her nametag read Nora. “Kind of… I’m looking for someone”, I said. “Who?”, she asked, as she ran the card. This process was always grueling for me; as I hated using fake credit cards. I always felt like they’d bounce, and police would show up. “I’m not sure…”, I croaked. The card went through, and Nora handed it back to me.

“Lulu?”, a voice behind me breathed. I turned around; and was staring into the face of Castiel. “Cass?”, I whispered. “You know each other, Steve?”, Nora asked. Castiel parted his lips, searching for the right words. “Lulu is my… sister”, he croaked. He stepped forward. “Do you mind if I take my break now? It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other”. “Of course!”, Nora exclaimed. “Use the office”. Castiel kept his eyes on mine, as he stepped over, and put his hand on my back. He let out a short breath, before leading me towards a door next to the restrooms.

Once inside the office, he closed the door. My lips began quivering, and I threw my arms around the neck of my friend. “Cass”, I began sobbing. “Where have you been? Are you ok?”. Castiel embraced me. “I am all right. Are you?”, he asked. I stepped back; wiping my face, and nodding. “I’m… hiding. Again”.

My heart was beating hard, but not painfully. Cass looked me over. “You should not be here. Why did you come?”. “I don’t know. I just had to”, I croaked. “There was an angel… He’s gone now”. “You… killed him?”, Cass asked, raising a brow at me. I nodded. “I didn’t mean to”, I breathed. “He was talking about finding someone. That they needed me for that… Then I just stabbed him”.

Cass sighed deeply. “What’s going on?”, I asked, searching his eyes – and suddenly realizing something. “You’re not an angel”, I gasped. He shook his head. “Not anymore. Metatron took my grace”, he said. “To… make the angels fall…”, I said. “He tricked you”. “Yes, he did. But that’s not all”, my friend said, looking at me with timid eyes. “Not all my grace was used for the fall. Some of it is stored”. “Where?”, I whispered; dreading the answer. Cass lifted his hand, and put it above my heart. “Here…”, he said. “I had to chose someone to carry a part of me… to be the witness”. “You chose… not Metatron?”, I asked. Castiel nodded. “It was the safest place I knew. I needed someone good and pure – and I could only think of you”.

I went to sit down. “You’re… inside me?”, I rasped. “My grace… or at least part of it, is”, Cass explained. “It’s part of the prophecy. There needs to be a human witness; someone who can see the angels as they walk with the humans. That is what my grace is doing in you. It’s showing you – to some extent – what I could see as an angel… This was forced on me, I’m sorry, Lulu”. “Why? What am I supposed to do with it?”, I asked. “Honestly, I don’t know. Metatron didn’t tell me. It was just part of the ritual”.

Castiel took my hand; and the connection made the hair on my arm raise. “It wants to come back to you”, I rasped. “It knows it doesn’t belong with me”. “I know. When that angel spoke of using you against me, it made you kill him. That is why you shouldn’t be here”, Castiel said. “It should be working for you, not against you”. I ran a hand over my face. “So, what am I supposed to do now?”, I asked. Cass shrugged. “The prophecy… I don’t know much about it. Metatron lied to me about so many things”, he said. “But as far as I can gather, you’re supposed to witness what comes next”. “And what’s that?”. “War… between the angels”.

I stood back up, and began shaking my hands – stretching – to get the uncomfortable feeling of something trying to escape my body, and jump at Castiel. “Great. I’ll just drive around the country and look on as angels kill each other. Is that it?”. “There has to be more”, Castiel said. “I just don’t know what…”.

There was knock on the door, and Nora peeked inside. “Sorry, Steve. But I’m getting swamped out here…”. “Yes, I will be right there!”, Castiel smiled. “Lulu… you should go home. We’ll… talk more. Another time”. He led me through the shop, and out to the truck. I turned to look at him, finding it difficult to find the right words. “Cass…”, I croaked. “Drive far away from here. Don’t come back”. He put a hand on my cheek. “I know this is a heavy burden, and I am very sorry. But I chose you, because I know you can carry it. I trust you”.

With shaking hands, I got behind the wheel. As I drove away, Castiel waved at me, and went back inside the shop.

---

Without a clue on what my next step should be – and fighting the celestial urge within me to turn around, and see Castiel again – I drove south; without direction or any plans. Reaching Utah, I finally decided to throw caution to the wind, and head east instead. I called up Deans number. “Dean’s phone…”. “Sam?”, I cried out. “Lulu! How’s solo hunting going?”, Sam said. I could hear a bright smile in his voice. “I’m not… It’s good. How are you? Are you healing?”. “I’m fine! I’ve been fine for weeks. Dean’s just being weird. When are you coming home?”, Sam asked. I took a deep breath, feeling rage emerge. “I’m on my way back”, I grunted. “You sound strange. You sure you’re fine?”. “What did Dean tell you?”, I said. “Just that you were working. Is something wrong?”, my friend asked. “I don’t know yet. Could you not tell him I’m coming? I want it to be a surprise”. Sam chuckled. “Sure. We both know how Dean loves surprises”, he joked. “I’ll keep my mouth shut”. “Thanks. See you tomorrow”, I grunted, and hung up.

I couldn’t let Dean know I was coming back. I wasn’t sure what he’d do, he might even rush to find a case, and haul ass out of the bunker with his brother, so I wouldn’t be able to see Sam. And I needed to see him; to know why he was keeping me away. This was my call, even if it was a bad one. It was a chance I had to take.

I drove through the night, only stopping for gas, and grabbing a quick bite at a drive through. The girl in the window who handed me my burger, looked at me intently – and I recognized her as angel. I sped away as fast as I could. Putting some extra miles on the meter to avoiding any tails; but finally found myself back on course for Lebanon. 16 hours after I’d left Idaho Falls, I parked the truck in front of the bunker door. I saw Charlies car further down the road, and wondered what she was doing back with the guys.

I quietly opened the bunker door, and stepped inside. I could hear music playing from the library, and walked down the stairs. The old record player was playing Somewhere Over The Rainbow, and I recognized Charlies stickered computer on the map table. Dean was standing with his back to the room in the archway, as I made it all the way down the steps. “I don’t know, man. I’m worried. She’s on friggin’ Oz!”, he grumbled. Sam was seated by one of the tables, and sent his brother a smiled. “She’s got Dorothy looking after her. She’ll be fine”, he said; before seeing me behind Dean. “Hey!”, he grinned.

Dean turned around, and his face dropped. “Lou…”, he croaked. “Why… what are you doing here?”. “I came home…”, I said meaningfully. “How is everything here?”. Dean gulped, and looked over his shoulder at Sam. “Good. We’re good”, he rasped. He ran over to embrace me; and once I was in his arms, he turned us around, so I had my back to Sam. “Let’s go… talk”. I pushed him off me. “No… I want to say hi to Sam”. Dean’s eyes widened, and he visibly tensed up. “Please don’t, Lou”, he whispered. I looked at him with hard eyes. “I’m going to say hi to my friend. You’ll have to shoot me to stop me”, I muttered. I pushed hard at his chest, and Dean’s defeated and pained expression almost had me wanting to stroke his stubbly cheek – but I needed to know the truth. A truth I had begun to suspect since my meeting with Castiel.

I turned around and smiled brightly at Sam, before stepping over to him. He held out his arms, and embraced me tightly. “Hi, Lulu!”, he smiled. “It’s so good to see you… whole!”. I pulled my head back, and looked into his eyes. A chill went through me body, when I saw what was living inside him. “Sam…”, I croaked. “What’s…?”. Dean sprang over, and grabbed my arm. “That’s enough. I haven’t seen my girl for over a month”, he grinned; his smile not reaching his eyes. “We’re going to do dirty things in my room. Don’t come in!”.

He dragged me behind him down the hallway, and pushed me into his room – closing the door behind us. “Why are you here? I told you…”. “What did you do, Dean?”, I snarled. Dean took a defensive stance. “I made a call. I couldn’t let Sam die”, he declared. “Does he know you let an angel in?”, I hissed. “He’d never…”. “I know! And he can’t know”, Dean said. “He’ll kick him out. And he’s not ready for that. His body can’t take it yet”. He sighed deeply. “I came to see you in Michigan, because I needed to know the truth. If you’d be able to see the angel in Sam… If you told him…”, Dean croaked. “I didn’t want to push you away. I just wanted to keep my brother safe”.

I paced the floor. “Are you crazy? What do you think will happen when we tell him?”. Dean grabbed my shoulders. “You’re not going to tell him!”, he growled. “So help me God, I will…”. He didn’t finish the sentence. “Kill me?”, I hissed. “Is that what you’ll do? Anything for your brother, right?”. Dean let go of me. “You know I’d never… how can you even think that?”. “You seem to be making a lot of decisions about the lives of others”, I snarled. He put his hands on either side of my face, and looked deep into my eyes. “That is never happening. But I can’t…”.

There was a knock on the door. “Dean!”, Sam’s voice called out. “I’m looking at boobs. Go away!”, Dean yelled. I pushed him off me. “Come in, Sam”, I said. Dean looked at me, and shook his head pleadingly. Sam’s tall frame stepped through the door, and his eyes met mine again – the angel inside coming through more clearly. “She has to leave”, he said; his tone different from how I knew it. “Sam…”, I began. “I am not Sam now”, the angel said. Dean’s eyes fell to the floor. “This is Zeke. Ezekiel. He’s healing Sam from the inside”, he muttered. “Zeke, this is Lulu”.

The angel stepped up to me, and looked down into my eyes. I swallowed hard. “I know who she is. Sam thinks of her fondly; as a good friend”. He narrowed his eyes at me. “If you are a good friend, Lulu; you will leave now. Let me finish my work”. I shook my head. “You can’t do this to Sam without him knowing! It’s not right…”. “If you do not leave, I will have to hurt you”, the angel declared; and suddenly a force threw me at the wall, as if choking me. Dean jumped in between us. “Zeke! Let her go. She’s not a danger to you, or to Sam”. “She has to leave. Now. She will not stay quiet”. Dean looked at the angel pleadingly. “Please… I’ll make her go. Just don’t hurt her”. He held up his hands in surrender.

I felt the force holding me disappear, and I fell to the floor, coughing. Dean sprang to my side, and pulled me into his arms. He put his hand on my cheek and searched my eyes. “Are you ok?”, he breathed. I nodded tentatively. “Make her leave. Or I will”, the angel said; and left the room.

“You have to go”, Dean whispered, putting his forehead to mine. “Please… for both of you”. I grabbed his collar, and looked at him angrily. “You tell him, Dean. End this!”, I croaked; my throat still sore. “I will… I swear. It just needs to happen at the right time”. He leant in as if to kiss me, but I turned my head. “You lied to me. You’re lying to my friend”, I said. “Fix it; then maybe… Maybe we can fix us”. I got on my feet and left the room.

Once back in the library, Sam was standing over the table, looking at his computer. When he heard me enter, with Dean close behind, he turned around. “That was fast”, he chuckled. “I’m leaving”, I muttered. “I have to go away from here”. “Lulu”, Dean tried. “Goodbye”, I said. I went towards the stairs – my legs shaky – and looked over my shoulder at Sam. “You”, I said, speaking to the angel inside him. “You take care of him, or I won’t answer for the consequences”. Sam looked at me confusedly. “We always take care of each other Lulu. You know that”, he said. “What’s going on with you?”. “It’s been a difficult month”, I muttered.

Sam picked up Charlie’s computer, and went over to hand it to me. “Charlie’s… she’s not gonna need this for a while. Maybe you can use it”. “Thanks”, I whispered; and took the device from him, before running up the stairs as fast as I could. I got into the truck, and sped away.

---

I found it difficult to drive; as my tears made the road blurry in front of my eyes. After a while I had to pull over, and let loose. I cried in deep sobs. I knew Dean would do anything for Sam, for me even; but this – what he had done to his brother, my friend – it was beyond anything I’d ever thought him capable of.

I finally settled down, and made my way to a motel just outside Kansas City. I needed sleep, and to calm my nerves. I checked in as Taylor Hanson, and let myself into the room; almost collapsing on the bed. When I woke, I looked at my phone. I’d been sleeping for 12 hours straight; and had several missed calls and a few voicemails. I sighed deeply, and checked them. “Lou. It’s me… I’m sorry. Please don’t… Don’t disappear on me again. I know what I did was rash, and probably stupid; but I had to… I love you. Call me back”. The next message was from 3 hours later. “Ok. You’re pissed. I get it. But I don’t regret it. Once this is over, everything will be ok. You can come back… I really want you to”. 5 hours after that, Dean had left another message. He sounded drunk. “You know what? Do what you want. Hunt, get your ass kicked without me to save you. I’m done. I’m gonna focus on getting my brother back in shape”. I heard some glass falling and crashing. “Woops, that’s my beer. Anyway… Take care, sugar. Maybe we’ll bump into each other someday. I’m gonna go now… You, uhm… keep that cute ass out of trouble. Right… Bye”. Five minutes after that, Dean had left a final message. “Lou… baby. I love you. I love…”. He must have hung up accidentally, because the call ended abruptly.

I laid back on the bed, and ran a hand over my face. I was so angry, and yet in anguish over how I’d ended it when I left. Everything had gone to hell, ever since I went to – well, Hell.

There was a final voicemail, and I pressed the button to listen. “Hey, Jordan… It’s Chloe… from the bar. It’s been a while. I understand if you don’t remember…”. She sounded choked. “I’m… I need your help. There’s a guy here…”. There was a rustling, and another voice came through. “I’ll do it. Hey, honey. It’s me. I just wanted to say I’m sorry if I scared you back in that alley. I can hardly remember coming back to the bar”. Pete was using his loving voice. “I have your friend here. Chloe. I really need to see you, Lulukins. Please come… or I’ll have to hurt Chloe. The address is…”. I sprang from the bed, and got dressed as Pete gave the instructions on where to meet him. “You have … 4 hours, before Chloe will be late for work. See you, my love”.

Four hours. As I’d been asleep for so long, at this point it was more like two. Loading my gun with normal bullets, and settling my iron knife in the pocket of my leather jacket; I got in the truck, and sped towards the meeting place.

I parked the truck down the street from the bar Pete had worked at after we moved to KC. It had gone out of business after a year there; leaving Pete in our shared apartment, playing acoustic guitar, and working on his music. He really was a douchebag. I snuck into the building, my gun at the ready. Someone was playing guitar. “Pete…? Chloe?”, I called out; keeping my back to the wall. The music stopped, and I heard a muffled scream. “Let her go!”, I yelled.

“You can come out, Lulu. It’s ok”, Pete bellowed. I slowly stepped out from the entryway, and into the bar area. On a small stage stood Pete – a guitar in hand – and Chloe tied up on a chair next to him, a muzzle over her mouth. I raised my gun, and aimed it at my ex. “Let her go, Pete. She doesn’t need to be involved in this”, I said softly, and walked forwards. “Please. This isn’t you”. Pete set down the guitar, and clenched his fists in front of his chest. “But it is, honey!”, he sighed. “This is who you’ve made me become… I love you so much”. “Tying up an innocent girl isn’t love”, I said. “Let her go, and I’ll put down the gun. Then we can talk”. Pete held out his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok… Just… come up here… Help me. I think I tied her up too hard”.

I frowned, and got onto the stage; standing behind Chloe. She was tied with ropes, in intricate knots. “Get off the stage”, I said to Pete; waving at him with my gun. He obliged, and went down to sit on a table left behind by the former owners. I secured my gun, and put it in the back of my jeans; pulling out my knife to cut Chloe free. “I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t have happened”, I muttered; and got the ropes off her wrists. She removed the muzzle herself, and got up to stand. I got in front of her, to shield her from Pete. “You’re right. It shouldn’t have”, Chloe hissed, and grabbed my gun from my waistband; aiming it at my back. “Sit down”.

“Good job, sissy!”, Pete smiled. “I knew you could do it”. “Thank you!”, Chloe chuckled. I looked at Pete with confused and startled eyes. “Right!”, Pete said. “You never met my sister… Well, now is a good a time as any. Honey, meet Chloe. Sissy, this is my Lulu”. Chloe put her hand on my shoulder, and pushed me to sit down on the chair. “Drop the knife”, she said. I let go of the blade in my hand; letting it drop to the floor.

“What’s going on?”, I croaked. Chloe stepped in front of me; still aiming the gun at me. “What’s happening? Oh, you bitch!”, she snarled. “Chloe, it’s ok. Lulu is just confused”, Pete said. His sister scoffed. “Was she confused when she dumped you? Broke your heart to run off with someone else?”, she growled. “I should kill her!”. Pete jumped back on the stage, and grabbed the gun from Chloe. “Relax… ok? I don’t want to hurt her. Just talk… For now”.

Pete crouched in front of me; and ran his hand up and down my arm, as if soothing me. “Pete, I’ll talk. But not while you’re holding a gun”, I said. “Here’s the thing…”, Pete sighed; pointing the gun at me. “You had a lot of weird things hidden around the apartment when we lived together. For one, that freaky silver-sword. I don’t know whether you won’t try to escape, or even hurt me…”. I let my lip quiver, and looked down. Pete leaned in, as I knew he would; and once he did, I headbutted him, and ran for the door.

Chloe threw herself at me; and I struggled to get her off me. “You can’t win this fight, Lulu!”, Pete yelled. He was holding a hand to his bleeding nose. “Read some of those books you kept around. I know what you do”. Chloe smirked at me. “We made ourselves a little witch-juice; from a spell in one of them”, she said. “We’re much stronger than your run of the mill bartender and artist”. “Aww, sissy!”, Pete tweeted. “You think I’m an artist?”. “Of course you are! You’re an amazing musician…”. I scoffed; and Chloe punched me in the face. “He is amazing!”.

Pete crouched down next to me. “I know this is hard to understand, honey… But I’d do anything for love”. “Quoting Meatloaf won’t get me in any more of a romantic mood”, I sputtered; still struggling against the woman straddling me. Seemingly struggling to keep his composure, Pete grabbed my phone from my pocket. “We’re going to end this. You’re going to call him, get him here; and once he’s dead, you and I can start anew”. “No…”, I croaked. “Yes”, Chloe hissed; almost spitting in my face. “Bitch, you ever heard of mouthwash?”, I snarled. She growled, and raised her fist. “Chloe!”, Pete roared. “Stand down…”.

Chloe got off me, and Pete pulled me to my feet. With a firm grip to my throat, he walked me onto the stage again, and sat me on the chair. He handed the gun to Chloe, who aimed it at me. “Call him. I can’t promise I’ll be able to stop her from shooting you if you don’t”, Pete said warningly. “Tell him you’re alone, and to come alone himself”. “I’m gonna have to convince him… We were in a fight”, I rasped. Pete nodded. “Whatever you have to do”. Swallowing hard, I took the phone, and dialed up Dean.

“Lou”, he said quietly. “Look, I’m…”. “Hey, baby”, I croaked, interrupting Dean. “You still in Lebanon?” “Yeah?”, he growled. “Why?”. “No reason. I hear it’s a real funky town there. Is that Fleetwood Mac you’re playing?”, I said. I could almost hear Dean tensing up. “Yeah. Partying hard. You wanna meet up?”, he muttered. “That sounds good… Come alone, ok?”. “Address?”. I gave Dean the address of the bar, and let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry for calling like this. I know you’re busy”. I looked up at Pete, who gestured for me to wrap it up. “So, I’ll see you soon”. “Yeah. Bye”. Dean hung up.

Pete put my phone in his pocket, and leant down to kiss my forehead. “You did good, honey”, he whispered. “This’ll all be over soon”. “It’s gonna take him a while to get here”, I muttered. “That’s ok. I’ll play you some music”. I groaned internally, but had no wish to be shot by the psycho baby sister of my ex; so, I simply nodded.

---

After being tied up – and sitting through a few hours of Pete playing a solo set of every Nickelback song he knew – I heard the sound of the Impala outside. “He’s here…”, I said. Behind my back, I had been continuously working on loosening the knots of the ropes holding me. Pete put down the guitar, and walked over to me; holding my knife to my throat. Chloe ducked out of view. Dean stepped into the bar, looking seriously hung over. “Hey”, he grunted. “Nice place you have here”. He looked at me. “You good?”, he asked. I nodded twice, letting him know Pete wasn’t alone.

“This is him?”, Pete muttered. “You left me for this guy?”. I rolled my eyes. “No I left you because you were clingy and a douchebag”. A smirk ghosted Deans face. “And your jeans are too tight!”, I yelled, finally free from the ropes. I elbowed Pete in the groin, and jumped up. I kicked the bent over Pete in the head; and ducked out of the way, just as Chloe shot the gun at us, hitting her own brother in the process. “You sure you need me here?”, Dean exclaimed. “I needed a distraction”, I snarled. “Could you maybe help me out with the little one?”.

Dean pulled out his knife, as I grabbed my own from the heavily panting Pete; holding it to his neck. “A knife won’t kill me!”, he growled. “Iron, Petey”, I smiled. “Let me say this one final time. We are over”. I began pressing the knife downwards; when Chloe jumped at me – knocking me to the floor. “Get off him!”, she shrieked. Dean ran towards us, and kicked Chloe hard in the ribs, making her wince, but not budge from me. She held the gun to my head. “Why are you doing this, Chloe?”, I asked. “He’s my brother. I would do anything for him”.

“Trust me, kid. Doing anything for family doesn’t always work out well”, Dean snarled. Behind us, he’d grabbed Pete, and was now holding his own knife to his heart. “Get up”. Chloe’s eyes widened, and she got off me; dropping the gun to the floor. “Please don’t hurt him”, she croaked. “I just wanted him… happy”. Dean looked at me. “It’s your call, Lou”, he grunted. “Can we strip them of magic?”, I asked. Chloe shook her head. “If you do, Pete will die from that gunshot”, she whimpered. “You should have thought of that before”, I snarled.

Dean put down his knife, and looked Pete with enraged eyes. “You get out of here. Go far away”, he growled; his eyes aflame. “If you even set foot near this woman again; I will find you – and I will rip your lungs out with my bare hands. Is that understood?”. The scene brought me back to a diner, years before; when his father had used those same words. Pete looked towards me. “Is this what you want, honey?”.

I stepped towards him – grabbing my gun as I passed it – looked down; and kicked him in the head; knocking him out. I looked at Chloe. “There’s a truck outside. Go to Alaska; and stay there!”, I hissed. “I will know if you leave; and I’ll know if you cause trouble”. “How?”, she croaked. “You’re not the only one with a little knowledge of magic”, I smirked sarcastically. “Now, go!”.

Chloe sprang for Pete, and picked him up, as if he weighed no more than a toddler. “Oh, cupcake?”, Dean called after her. “We have friends in Alaska. They’ll find you if needs be”. Chloe swallowed, and nodded – then carried Pete outside.

I went to sit down on the edge of the stage. Dean sat down next to me. “You ok?”. “He played me Nickelback…”, I croaked. “For hours!”. Dean pulled me into his arms. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry”. He kissed the top of my head, and rubbed my shoulder. I sighed. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this”, I muttered. “It’s fine. You didn’t seem to need much help anyway…”, he smiled. “Good call on the Mac reference. I’m still pretty sure Stevie is a witch as well”. “If she is, it’s a white witch. And those we like… right?”. Dean chuckled.

“Can you take me back to my motel? I lost my ride”, I breathed. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll take you home”, Dean said; and stood up, pulling me with him. “No…”, I said. “No?”, he asked. “Lou…”. “I can’t go back there. Not while Sam is still… No. You heard the angel”. “Baby, I’m going to let Sam know”, Dean said. “This needs to end”. I nodded. “Yeah, it does”. I looked at him with gentle eyes. Deans jaw dropped. “You mean… No!”, he gasped. “That’s not an option. I’m not letting you go, Lou. I can’t!”.

I put my arms around him. “I spent a month in that cabin, Dean. Waiting for you to give me the all’s clear”, I sighed. “All I wanted to do was get out there and work, but I didn’t, because I needed to stay out of what was happening with Sam; and I couldn’t make myself known to anyone. I’m done with that”. “With me, you mean”, Dean breathed. “No… We’re endgame…”, I smiled, and looked up at him. “But I have to go out there and do my own thing. I think that’s why I took that job. To figure out who I am, apart from being your… in house sex-bunny”. His lips twitched into a slight smile.

“But what about this witness thing?”, Dean said. “You could get hurt…”. I shrugged. “It’s what we do, right? Hunters get hurt. Hunters get hurt, then we patch ourselves up, and move on”. Dean clenched his jaw. “And you… are a hunter”, he muttered. “Someone even told me I was kind of ok at it”, I smirked. “Look… Go finish this thing with Sam. And I mean finish it. You’re not letting my friend run around with an angel inside him. It’s enough that one of us has to deal with that”. Dean frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”, he asked. I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. Just take me back to my motel”.

Dean sighed deeply, took my hand, and led me outside. The truck was gone, and I got in next to him in the Impala. We drove back to my motel; and Dean walked me to the door. “You all set up?”, he grunted, as I opened the door. “Credit cards? Weapons?”. “I’m good”, I said. “Just need a partner… Thinking of calling up Charlie. She’s fun”. Dean winced. “Yeah… she’s fighting flying monkeys”. “What?”, I grunted. “Oz… It’s a thing”, Dean muttered. He scratched his head. “Sam thinks I’m out scouting for a case… I have a few hours”. I smirked. “You asking to test the springs of the mattress in there?”. “Hell, yeah”, he grinned.

I grabbed his collar, pulled him inside; and just managed to slip the do not disturb sign on the knob, before closing the door.

---

I’m getting out of the car in Illinois, to grab a quick bite at a diner. Charlie’s 1976 Gremlin was parked outside my motel the day after Dean dropped me of there; with a note letting me know it shouldn’t go to waste while she was away. I’ve packed it up with my belongings, and painted a devil’s trap on the ceiling. It’s been a good while since I’ve seen any of the brothers. Dean checks in when he can, but the messages are few and far between. Lately, even further. He seems preoccupied, and even bitter when we talk.

I sit down in a booth, and order a large coffee and some bacon. Pulling out my – Charlie’s computer – I go over my notes on the case. A pimply teenage boy brings me my order; as I’m enthralled by the witness statements on local cow mutilations. They seem to have been torn apart by some kind of animal.

Suddenly, a tall figure sits down across from me. I look up, and my eyes widen. “Sam?”, I breathe. “Hey, Lulu”, my friend smiles. I swallow hard. “I’m me again. No stowaways”, Sam assures me. “Oh… good. And you’re… ok?”, I croak. He nods. “Working a case”. “Alone?”, I ask.

Sam clenches his jaw, and looks down. “Yeah… Dean’s on some… I don’t know”. I sigh. “I’m sorry… I wanted to tell you”. He grabs my hand over the table. “I know… We’re good. Really”. I try a smile. “But Dean?”, I ask. “He… That wasn’t his call to make”, Sam says. “I was ready to go”.

I squeeze his hand. “Sam… He is who he is. He didn’t want to lose you”. Sam shrugs. “He was selfish”. “Maybe”, I say quietly. “But he’s your brother, and he loves you”. My friend clears his throat. “I don’t want to talk about it”, he mutters. “Tell me about you! What are you working on?”.

I turn around my computer for him to see. He frowns. “This, uhm… this is my case”, he chuckles. “You’re working on this?”. “Yup…”, I smile. “I’m thinking werewolf”, Sam whispers. I narrow my eyes. “I’m not so sure… See these clawmarks?”, I show him a picture. “The cow was torn apart. Not bitten in to. Rugaru?”. Sam smiles at me. “Tell you what… We do this one together. If it’s a wolf, you buy the beer; if not, I do”. “Deal”, I grin.

---

#dean winchester fic #dean winchester #dean winchester x oc #dean x oc #dean winchester smut #sam winchester #castiel #supernatural #supernatural fic

2 notes · View notes

kagehinataboke · 4 years

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you probably think this is too fast bc i think you just posted that prompt list, but in my defense, i missed you, okay? your writing is awesome! can you do "say my name" "louder" with tdbk? :c

awww you missed me? ;-; thank you sm anon hnghhh, it’s good to be back again at least with the plague i’m less busy now ig

“say my name” “louder” — tdbk

smut below the cut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

***

It didn’t start out this way. Really, it didn’t. They had behaved like normal rivals—and by that, Katsuki means that they were constantly at each other’s throats. After a while, that turned into a tentative friendship. Things only started to change once Kaminari decided to hijack the pool. Students don’t have free use of the swimming facilities, so—of course—Kaminari and Ashido came up with the brilliant idea to sneak in after hours and throw a party.

Katsuki was against it for obvious reasons. He tried and tried to convince the morons to give up, but you can’t fix stupid. Instead of stopping them, he resigned himself to tag along and keep them from getting themselves expelled or arrested. That, in essence, is how he ended up here.

The night‘s been fine so far. Or, as fine as a disaster can be. Most of 1-A is here, other than the obvious rule-followers—Iida and Yaoyorozu. (And Mineta, but he wasn’t invited in the first place.)

Tsuyu, Deku, and Uraraka are in the shallow end tossing around a beach ball and splashing each other like preschoolers. Ashido and Kaminari are playing a game of poolside blackjack that‘s getting a bit too rowdy. Everyone else is absorbed in a volleyball match, girls vs. boys. The only person still missing from the equation is Todoroki. He definitely came: Katsuki remembers seeing his stupid hair over by the locker room earlier.

“I’ll be right back,” Katsuki tells Jirou, who’s serving as the volleyball ref. She gives him a thumbs up before turning to shout at Tokoyami for making a faulty pass.

Katsuki trudges across the wet cement and into the silent rec facility, his footsteps squelching against the tile floor. The locker rooms are in the back corner, about as far from the water as you can get. If Todoroki is in there, he must be sitting in total darkness. (Ashido and Kaminari agreed that if they turned on the lights, they’d definitely get caught.)

Inside the locker room, Katsuki’s footsteps echo even louder. He passes between the sets of dusty blue lockers and approaches the showers. Todoroki is sitting against the far wall, staring through the window at the full moon. Weirdo.

“What the fuck are you even doing?”

Todoroki jumps. He turns to look at Katsuki, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. “Oh, it’s just you.” He hugs his knees to his chest. “I needed some quiet.”

“You and me both,” Katsuki grumbles, sliding down the wall beside him. “I never should’ve come to this stupid fucking thing. Half of me wants to turn them in.”

“But you’d be an accomplice,” Todoroki points out.

“Yeah.” Katsuki sighs and tilts his head back. After a moment of silence, he twists his neck to look at Todoroki. “Were you just going to sit alone in the dark? That’s fucking creepy. Unless you came in here to do something else.”

“Like what?” Todoroki frowns. He’s always slow to pick up on jokes.

“Like jerk off. I wouldn’t put it past you, Half n’ Half.” Katsuki snickers. “Actually, I take it back: You’re too fucking uptight for that kind of thing. Looking at your dumbass face, I can’t imagine you having a sex drive.”

“I do,” Todoroki protests with a scowl. “And it’s quite good, in case you were wondering.”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki feels like they’re not close enough to be having this kind of conversation, but it’s satisfying to see Todoroki’s composure crack. “Do it then.”

Todoroki freezes. “Do… it…?” he repeats slowly.

This is too easy. Katsuki is nearly choking on suppressed laughter.

“Jerk off. Go on, whip it out.” He makes a fapping motion for good measure. The childish action is worth it to see Todoroki’s face go red.

“…You can’t be serious.”

“I won’t believe you unless you do it.”

Todoroki shakes his head. He seems to think for a moment, and then sighs. “Fine. I suppose it can’t be helped.”

In an instant, all humor evaporates from the situation. Before Katsuki can clarify that he was indeed joking and that the last thing he wants to see is Todoroki rubbing one out, he’s already got his dick in hand.

Katsuki’s throat goes dry. He should’ve expected this, in hindsight: Todoroki is definitely petty enough to whip it out to prove a point. Unfortunately, right now, all he can do is deal with his karmic punishment: Todoroki has a huge dick. Go figure. The more his hand moves, the bigger it gets.

Christ. How can he do this in front of someone else? Katsuki can’t even bring himself to jerk off where someone might hear him, let alone with someone watching. Todoroki’s not even being shy about it. His head’s tilted back and he keeps biting his lip, which does little to stifle his heavy breathing and slight moans.

He’s not stopping. He’s actually going to finish. Are you serious?

“Stop.” Katsuki reaches out to grab his wrist without thinking: His first mistake.

Todoroki looks at him. Making eye contact with him is Katsuki’s second mistake. They stare at each other, the air between them full of Todoroki’s shaky breaths. For what feels like an eternity, they just sit there. Then, when Katsuki’s hand twitches, Todoroki groans.

Something in the air between them cracks. Katsuki pushes Todoroki’s shoulder into the wall and kisses him. He isn’t sure why he does it, but when Todoroki opens his mouth in a gasp of surprise, it’s all over. Katsuki shifts closer, pushing his tongue into the open space. Instead of pushing him away, Todoroki moans into his mouth.

Katsuki tries to move his hand before he remembers where it is. Todoroki moans again; a deep, gutteral sound. He pushes Katsuki back, pinning him against the tiled floor. He jerks Katsuki’s shorts and boxers down in a single movement, cutting off his protest with a deep, invasive kiss.

He deserves this. This is what he gets for being an asshole. The worst part is, Katsuki actually likes it. A lot.

Todoroki’s hand slowly moves down Katsuki’s dick from shaft to base. (It’s already rock hard: that much is easy to tell without looking.) His fingers twitch, and Katsuki groans. Todoroki pulls back, licking his lips to break the trail of saliva linking their mouths. His eyes are hazy with desire.

“Why…” Katsuki pauses to get his breath back. “Why did you stop?”

“Sorry.” Todoroki smirks, as if he was waiting for the question. He sits up, pulling Katsuki into his lap in a single smooth movement. ”I’ll keep going.”

Before Katsuki can protest, Todoroki presses their dicks together and starts moving his hand. Katsuki throws his head back. He rocks his hips into the movement, biting his lip until he can’t hold back his voice. “Fuck, fuck…!”

“My first name,” Todoroki says, breath hot against Katsuki’s neck. “Say it. Say my name.”

It takes Katsuki a moment to force the word out. “…Shou…to.”

Todoroki’s hand moves faster in response. “Louder.”

“Shouto…!” Katsuki cries out in pleasure with the final, euphoric twitch of Todoroki’s fingers. He slumps against his chest, gasping for air and shuddering. He’s still riding out the waves of ecstasy when Todoroki’s hand starts moving again.

“Wa…wait,” Katsuki protests. “I just came, I can’t—“

Todoroki ignores him. Much to Katsuki’s horror, his dick is up again. Todoroki’s too. Katsuki didn’t even know it was possible to get hard this quickly after cumming. It feels so good that it almost hurts. The more he listens to Todoroki’s ragged breathing, the more he loses his mind.

Katsuki gets the feeling this is going to cause a lot of problems…

#some of you may say this is ooc but if you dont think todo is the type of person to whip it out to make a point then ur lying to urself #not a full sex scene bc i wanted to play around a bit #hope you enjoy anon #calla.txt #todobaku #tdbk #mha #bnha #answered asks

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 5 years

Text

The Devil in Disguise, Pt. 3

Dean Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Dean’s on the run from escaping a prison where a job went south. Sam is in the wind. With nowhere to go and an injured leg, Dean takes refuge in the only place he could find—an old remote cabin. Normally empty for long stretches, Dean happens to stumble in the same day that the cabin’s owner returns. After a rocky first encounter, Dean comes to believe that a distant connection they share could be the thing that saves his life and gets him back to Sam. But will it happen before Y/N’s finance, a prison guard at Green River, finds the secret she’s hiding in the woods?

A/N: The fic was inspired by the song “The Devil’s Backbone” by The Civil Wars. This is part 3 of 5 written for multiple bingo cards that go for both chapters. Set around S2 (Folson Prison Blues). New tag lists are at the end of the fic. I have tag spots open, let me know if you want to jump on or off for SPN (Dean and/or Sam, or RPF for Jensen)

Warnings: (Part Three): Language, Mild angst, Hints of abuse, Drinking, Smut (18+ only)

WC: 5.7K

*Banner created by me. I do not own any of these pictures.

Dean didn’t say much to her for the next couple of hours. After [Y/N] helped set him up in the bathroom so he could take a makeshift shower, he made his way to the kitchen without any assistance, albeit very slow. She tried to help him hobble his way along, but he insisted on doing it himself. Once he was clean and his wound was tended to, she placed down a big bowl of chili and a hunk of cornbread, warmed and oozing with butter. He thanked her and as the fragrant spices filled his nose, his stomach rumbled fiercely. Dean dove in and greedily ate every bite until the bottom of the bowl was so clean it was hard to imagine there was much in it, to begin with.

“I guess it was good?” she asked with a half-amused grin.

Dean leaned back in the chair and groaned along with the wood. He smiled, satisfied, and patted his stomach. “So good. I feel like I haven’t eaten real food in, well, forever.”

“Can’t imagine your meals at Green River were exactly gourmet. Then, living on soup and protein bars the last couple of days couldn’t have done much for your taste buds…” she trailed off and shrugged, rising from the table and clearing his dish.

She seemed different, like something in her was changed by the earlier encounter. Despite their close moment after Derek left, Dean felt like she was holding something back; maybe it was the need to cry or just the urge to rage, but even he could feel the shift in her mood without her saying a word about it.

He sat quietly and watched her move around the kitchen, cleaning dishes, putting away the rest of the food. Silently going about her business, and yet, he could almost see the wheels in her head-turning. His own thoughts kept going to what he overheard while in the closet, but also, to the closet itself. A lock on the outside, sure, why not… but one on the inside could only mean trouble. But, was it trouble for [Y/N] or someone else? Unable to keep his thoughts to himself, Dean leaned forward on the table but didn’t look in her direction at first. “Can I ask you something? And, I don’t mean to pry, but... my curiosity is piqued.”

She stood at the sink, and just when he thought she wouldn’t say anything, [Y/N] turned around and he could already see she knew the questions he wanted to ask. She still didn’t speak, just used her expression to grant permission for him to ask.

“Alright…” he started then turned in the chair and did his best to stand with a bit of weight on his injured leg. He didn’t wobble this time, though held onto the table for support and now that he was secure, his gaze focused on her. “Why is there a lock on the inside of a closet door in your bathroom? What were you trying to hide from?”

[Y/N]’s gaze fell to the old hardwood floor, but that half-amused smile stayed on her lips as she considered her answer. Finally, when she lifted her (y/c) eyes, Dean saw years’ worth of pain and heartache in them. It didn’t make him sad for her, but instead anger at the people who were the cause of it.

“My father used to hit my mom. She put it in there one day when he wasn’t around so I could have a place to hide if I needed it.” Her reply was so matter-of-fact and calm, that Dean had to take a moment to process what she actually said.

“He what?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“He hit her, a lot. We lived here for a few years when I was very little. He had been asked to leave his prior parish, so my mom fixed this place up for us to live in until he found a new one. It was her grandfather’s cabin. So, she loved the place and was thrilled to live here for a while.”

“Guessing your dad didn’t care for it,” Dean spat, the words leaving a bad taste in his mouth just as the impression of her father did.

“Nope. Not even a little. He drank, got violent, took all his frustrations out on her. You know how it goes. Eventually, the offer from Green River Baptist came through and here we are. We moved out of here and down into the house adjacent to the church, and she installed one there, too.”

“Did he ever hurt you?” Dean’s question had more of a punch than he intended, which didn’t go unnoticed by her.

“No. Well, once, but not like he hurt my mother. Once we were moved into the new church, his outrages stopped for the most part. ”

Dean shook his head and inhaled slowly, trying to still the rage he felt towards her father. “Your mom… where is she now?”

“Residing in Green Valley cemetery. Remember I said I had family there?”

“Oh,” Dean replied awkwardly and shifted weight off his bad leg, “yeah…”

“Here, come on,” [Y/N] said, and quickly dried her hands on a dishtowel before moving to help Dean. “Come sit in the living room. There’s a fire going and then I’ll put the kettle on for hot chocolate.”

“Got any booze to throw in there?” Dean asked hopefully.

“I do, but you can’t have any. Not while on those meds. I need you clear-headed as you can be.”

Dean sighed heavily. “Awesome, thanks Nurse Ratchett.”

“Yeah well, you’ll be thanking me should Derek show up again. Cause I guarantee the next time he does, he’ll have a shotgun in hand.”

“Peachy,” he mused and rolled his eyes as he slung an arm around her shoulder as she helped him walk into the living room.

Once in the living room, she let him go so he could sit on the couch then turned to tend to the fire. That was when he really watched her closely; from the glow of the flames against her face, tracing the lines and curves of her body, right on down her tight jeans to her wool-socked feet. He was so curious about so many things--including how she would look sans the layers of the thermal and flannel she wore--but had no idea whether he should or could even bring himself to ask. She was a stranger to him, but yet, he felt close to her in a way that even surprised him.

Dean watched every move she made and studied her face as she seemed to be lost in the dancing flames. When she snapped out of it and turned back to him, he didn’t try to look away or pretend he hadn’t been watching her.

“What?” she asked nervously, “why are you staring at me?”

“Just watching you work the fire,” he replied casually, though they both knew it was much more than that.

“Ok, weirdo,” she snarked and turned to go into the kitchen.

“So, can I ask you something else?” Dean called out to her, and when she didn’t respond, he twisted his torso to see her moving about the kitchen.

She just finished filling the kettle and gently rested it on one of the burners then turned it on. “Ask me whatever you want, Dean. I have no secrets.”

“You got me,” he replied, his wide, toothy grin made her chuckle.

“Other than you… what do you want to know?”

“What the HELL are you doing with that guy?”

“Derek?”

“Yeah, Derek. Derek is a douchebag.”

“Well aware, thanks.” She continued on making the hot chocolate, and when she retrieved the bottle of rum from the pantry, Dean couldn’t help but smile when he saw her pour a small shot into each mug.

She was quiet for a while, long enough that the kettle began to whistle and he assumed it was her way of avoiding the question. Dean wouldn’t push her, not when she was doing all she was for him, but he couldn’t take his focus, or his eyes, from her. Nor could he understand how such a beautiful woman, with skills and balls of steel like her, would stay with an overbearing shithead like Derek and that being based on only hearing a few minutes of their lives together.

[Y/N] came back into the living room a minute later with two steaming mugs that smelled heavenly of chocolate and liquor.

“If you end up having a reaction to your meds with that shot of rum, it’s your own damn fault,” she said and handed him a mug before sitting on the opposite end of the couch, one leg tucked beneath her.

Dean smiled smugly and sipped at the piping hot liquid. “I’ll take my chances, thanks.”

She stared into the fire for a beat, and when she finally turned back to him, he realized that she wasn’t just being quiet, she was thinking; most likely trying to phrase her answer to his question.

“I met Derek in high school. My mom had died by then, the incident in the church with Deacon had happened, and I was a wild kid. Summer before sophomore year, I met Derek at church. His family just moved here and my dad set me up on a date with him… a good Christian boy.”

“Oh, I bet that date was gads of fun,” Dean mocked and licked the chocolate from his lips.

“It was, actually. Derek wasn’t as good of a Christian boy as he pretended to be. We went out drinking at the pits in the woods, and had a great time.”

Dean raised his brow in surprise. “I certainly didn’t expect that answer.”

[Y/N] chuckled but it was flat and sad. “It didn’t last. We dated for two years, and by the time we were about to be seniors, in his head, my father already had us walking down the aisle. The second I graduated, he wanted to marry me off and get rid of me. By then, Derek wasn’t exactly the guy I thought he was and I was so ready for it to be over.”

“So, why are you still with him all these years later?”

She shrugged. “When you are mentally beat down and told you’ll never do better than what you got after so long you start to believe it.”

Dean swallowed hard and felt his teeth grind together in an attempt to bite back words he had no business saying to her. As they sat there in the heavy silence following her words, he was seething in anger that anyone could think of her as anything but wonderful.

“That’s horse shit, you know,” he said softly, raking his teeth over his bottom lip in frustration.

“Yeah, well… tell that to eighteen year old me who was getting kicked out of her house and forced to live with a guy who I didn’t want to be with, or be homeless.”

“Well okay, but you're clearly not eighteen anymore. You work? Right? Have money… why stay?”

“It’s just not that simple Dean. I wish it were, but it's not. Besides, what do you care? In a few days or two, you’ll be able travel and I will somehow get you back to your brother. Speaking of… I guess we should talk about that. How do you wanna--”

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Change the subject. I’m not letting this go, [Y/N]. That guy is a massive dick. I have known plenty of guys like that in my life. Bullies, all of ‘em. Chances are if he hasn’t raised a hand to you yet, he will.”

She raised her brows subtly and didn’t look him in the eyes. He knew what it meant, but didn’t want to press her. Truth was, he didn’t have any right to get into her business, but yet…

“[Y/N], I’m not trying to--”

“I know,” she interrupted, but it was quiet, almost a whisper.

Dean moved closer to her, ignoring the burst of discomfort it caused in his leg. He left a bit of breathing room, but reached out and placed a hand on the bend of her knee. He waited a moment to see if she would recoil, or react negatively to his touch. She didn’t.

“No, you don’t know,” he said. “I won’t tell you what to do, but sweetheart, you do not need that guy. Not for a damn thing.”

Her eyes slowly came up to meet his and he could see the conflict brewing in them. Despite the temperature, she gulped down the hot chocolate and placed her mug on the small table beside her. Without saying anything, she got up, Dean’s hand falling back to the couch, and went into the kitchen only to return a moment later with the bottle of rum. She sat down in the same position, only much closer to Dean; close enough that her knee was gently pressing against the side of his thigh.

[Y/N] took a quick pull of the brown liquor and winced as it trickled down her throat. She passed the bottle to Dean, who looked between it and her with uncertainty.

“My very beautiful nurse said it would screw with my meds,” he shrugged, flashed her his most charming smile.

“She’s an idiot. Get drunk with me, wouldya? Cause honestly, after these last few days I could use it.”

Dean placed his mug of hot chocolate down on the other table and took the bottle from her. The taste of the rum was like heaven on his tongue, but he knew he had to pace himself. She wasn’t wrong about keeping a level, clear head, yet the allure of getting drunk with her was something he didn’t want to pass up, either. After spending the last few days down with an infection and fever, Dean knew he couldn’t be too carefree with his actions.

Passing the bottle back to her, she took a shot from it, her (y/c) eyes intently watching him. “I don’t want to talk about Derek. Tell me a story, Dean. Tell me about what you and your brother do. What other creatures or monsters have you killed?”

Dean scoffed and stammered a moment before he could formulate an answer. “I--Well… why? Why would you want to hear those stories?”

“Because,” she shrugged and drank from the bottle again before passing it to him, “at least what you’re doing seems important… meaningful. Me… I am a bored soon-to-be housewife who likes to pretend I write important things when really it’s just a bunch of bullshit.”

“I doubt that,” he replied, keeping his green eyes locked with hers as he raised the bottle to his lips. He was feeling the effects of the alcohol quickly; could feel it coursing through his veins and an overwhelming need to touch her rose with it.

“Just tell me a story,” she laughed, “I don’t want to think… I want you to distract me, please?”

“Alright,” Dean nodded and gave her back the bottle. She took a healthy pull from it, placed the cap back on and reached over to leave the bottle on the floor beside the couch. The fire crackled and popped in the background while Dean tried to think of a case to tell her about; one that wouldn’t be too dark or heavy, but he was struggling because they all were like that. She thought what he and Sam did was important, and maybe it was, but it certainly came with a hefty price.

“This one time Sam and I had to join a traveling circus,” he shrugged and felt his heart warm as she broke into a disbelieving smile.

“Seriously? What was going on there?”

“A killer clown, or so we thought. Thanks to a little help from a friend, we found out it wasn’t so much a clown but a rakshasa--”

“A what?!” she snorted, the alcohol clearly affecting her as well as she tried, and failed, to repeat the word. “A rakssha--rakeis--a what?!”

“A rakshasa… a spirit, shapeshifter of sorts that likes to feed on humans. This one had set up shop in a traveling carnival. Passed itself off as a clown, got kids to let it in the house and then would eat one of their parents.”

“Oh,” [Y/N] said, wrinkling her nose in disgust, “gross.”

“Yeah, very,” Dean chuckled, his tongue darting across his lips while looking at her. It was an involuntary response, but he could see her watching him closely now, too, and he didn’t hate it.

“What else, tell me more,” she requested and leaned forward enough that he could see a spark of life returning to her eyes.

Dean recounted a few other cases he and Sam had worked over the years, keeping them short and sweet, and mostly ones where there was a happy ending. He left out the demon stories or the time when Sam had to put down a woman after he’d fallen for her because she had been bitten and turned into a werewolf. He went more in-depth about the case they worked for Deacon, too, and other times he’d been in their lives. [Y/N] listened attentively, her eyes never leaving his face and the more he talked, the closer she got.

What felt like hours later, she moved off the couch and once again tended to the fire. From the corner of the room, the CB radio crackled to life again, making both Dean and [Y/N] freeze, then catch the other’s nervous gaze. They waited silently through the unintelligible voice mixed with static, waiting to see if one would make sense; if Dean’s name was the topic of the call or if--

“[Y/N].... you…*static* ...up. Now! Over.”

Dean saw her face fall the minute the voice was clear enough to understand. Her whole body stiffened, a coating of fear mixed with anger taking hold of her expressions and forcing her to walk towards the CB. He realized as she got closer that she still had the fireplace poker in her hand. Even from across the room Dean could see how tightly she was gripping the iron weapon, her knuckles turning a ghostly shade of white.

[Y/N]’s free hand darted out and snatched the handle from its base and gave a quick look over her shoulder. Dean nodded, his way of agreeing to be quiet. She drew in a deep breath and pressed the button.

“I’m here. Over.”

It took a minute, but the voice came back clearer this time. “What the hell you thinkin’, girl? You better get your ass back to town... *more static* ...ing. Storm’s …. *static* ...for days! Over.”

There was another moment of hesitation on her part before she pressed the button and spoke again. “I’m not a God-damned child. I’ll tell you what I told Derek. I’m fine. I will be back when I am back. Over and out.”

Without hesitation, she turned off the power to the radio and gently placed the handle back in its cradle. [Y/N] stood motionless, still holding the poker with a fierce grip as if she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to use it or not. She finally moved, turned back around to face him and that’s when she noticed the poker in hand. Paying it an absent glance, she gently laid it back on the rack and shook the haunted thoughts from her mind.

“I don’t wanna tell you what to do, but maybe turning that off isn’t a great idea,” Dean suggested carefully. “It’s kind of our early warning system, you know?”

“You’re right,” she replied, and went back to the radio to switch it back on, then maneuvered a few of the controls so music began to play through the small speaker on the unit. “There, at least that’s better to listen too. And it’ll flash when something’s trying to get through.”

“Who was that?” Dean asked, unable to quell his curiosity.

“My father. Derek probably left here and went straight there. They’re always conspiring something,” she muttered.

Dean nodded and tried to think of something he could say that would change the sudden change in her demeanor. Seeing how her father’s voice alone affected her, made him just as disgusted as he had been when he saw how Derek’s presence changed her. [Y/N] was a special kind of woman, how she was so mistreated by the men in her life left him baffled and angry.

Before he could think of something to say, she spoke up first as she knelt down by Dean’s injured leg. “I should check your wound…”

“You’re just surrounded by douchebags, huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” she replied and began to pull up the bottom of the sweatpants when he leaned forward and put his hand on her shoulder.

“My leg is fine,” he said. “I mean, if you’re just looking for a way to get me to take my pants off, I can think of better ways, sweetheart.” He knew he was being blunt, and while he certainly wouldn’t turn down the mysterious beauty, he was only trying to get her back in that light-hearted, easy-going way she was before the CB had gone off.

[Y/N] laughed but then caught his gaze, and in it, he saw that maybe his comment wasn’t as laughable to her.

“Is that so?” she asked and stopped pulling up his pant leg, but didn’t remove her hand from his ankle. He could feel her feather-light touch on his skin and desperately wanted her to touch him everywhere. “And just what way would that be?”

Dean chuckled and needed to decide how far he could, or should try to take this. He was injured, after all, and she was a stranger with two very aggressive men in her life. Getting involved with her in any way was only going to mean trouble. But then she looked at him, challenging his comment with nothing but the tick of her brow and the pout of her lip; subtle, but sexy. He knew there was only one way it could go.

“Well, you could come back up on the couch and let me show you…”

Dean’s heart was pounding, unsure of how she would react. When [Y/N] slowly rose from the floor and stood before him, he sat up straighter on the couch silently praying she would take him up on his offer. Everything in the room seemed to shift at once; the fire popped and hissed as it caught a new log ablaze, the song on the radio ended, the first few notes of Unchained Melody started on some distant AM station, and [Y/N] was slowly removing the flannel she wore over her thermal shirt, and tossing it to where she had been sitting on the couch.

“You shouldn’t say things like that if you don’t mean it,” she whispered, her expression unreadable, but intense.

Dean reached out for her hands, pressed his palms into hers, then laced their fingers together before gingerly pulling her forward and gauging her resistance. When she didn’t fight him at all, he continued guiding her closer which forced her to straddle his lap, or she’d fall on top of him. She did so without any hesitation, but hovered over his lap and kept her eyes locked with his. He wished he could read her, get a feel for what exactly she was thinking. Though he had been with plenty of women over the years, she made him nervous; more surprising than that was that he liked it.

“Who says I don’t mean it?” he breathed, more taken with her with every inch closer she came. “If you’re uncomfortable, or you want to--”

“Shut up,” she huffed and leaned into him, her lips pressing to his while his hands released hers and immediately went to her ribs, sliding down to her hips and holding onto her tightly.

Her lips were soft and sweet and heavily laced with the taste of rum. She kissed him with a tempered need; he could feel her wanting more, just as he did. Yet there was still a hesitancy to how she pressed her mouth to his. Wanting her to feel comfortable, he let her set the pace and happily followed with every step further she took it. [Y/N] sank down lower on his lap, her hands sliding up his chest, towards his neck; her fingers locking together behind it as her thumbs gently rubbed against the sensitive spot behind his ears.

Dean moaned softly into her kiss and wrapped his arms around her back, slowly lifting the back of her shirt and lacing his fingers together against her skin. She parted his lips with her tongue, her need beginning to overcome the shyness of their first encounter. [Y/N] didn’t stop Dean when his hands moved up her back and unclasped her bra; she didn’t protest when he began to lift the thermal shirt up just enough for him to feel the bottom curves of her breasts. Through all this, she only kissed him deeper. For as much as he wanted her, and as much as he would hate himself should this derail their momentum, Dean pulled back from her suddenly.

[Y/N] was surprised, her breath coming in short spurts, her hands still clinging to his neck.

“What? What’s wrong?” she asked, desperately searching his face for a reason. “Is it your leg? Are you in pain? Is it me?”

“No! No, absolutely not… you… you are…” Dean exhaled heavily and licked his bottom lip as his fingers kneaded into her skin and his dark, lustful eyes drank her in, “... you’re perfect. It’s just that, you don’t know me, not really. This… this can stop if you want, I don’t want you to blow up your whole life because of one night.”

“Dean, if I am going to implode my life, I can’t imagine anyone else I would want to do it with. Besides, how is this any different from if we’d met in a bar and had a one night stand? Hm?”

Dean considered her answer and shrugged. “I guess it’s not.”

“It’s not. And right now, I don’t care about anything outside those doors. I just want to feel good. Can you make me feel good?” she whined softly.

“I think I can help you out there,” he smirked, his tongue again running along his bottom lip as he sized her up and imagined the things they could really do if not for his bum leg. “But, huh, I’m not playing at full capacity here, so…” he trailed off with another shrug, but she didn’t miss a beat.

“Well then I guess it’s up to me then, isn’t it?” she breathed and leaned in to kiss him again.

Within a minute, Dean pulled off her thermal and her bra with it, her chest bare and glowing in the light of the fire. He trailed his mouth in soft, lingering kisses across her neck and down to her chest, while his hands traced the lines of her skin delicately. He could feel himself getting harder as she moved in the slightest bit against his lap. By the time his mouth had found her nipples and her hands were pressing his face into her chest, he was fully erect and desperate to feel more of her.

[Y/N] must have felt the same because her hands unlocked from his neck and roughly ran down the length of his torso, coming together between her legs, and palming his erection through the thin layer of cotton sweatpants. The moment he felt the pressure of her hand against his dick he inhaled sharply and growled low, relishing in her touch. They continued that way for a minute, kissing and touching and rubbing and grinding deeper, until [Y/N] couldn’t take it anymore.

She suddenly rose from his lap, quickly unbuttoned her jeans and took them off, tossing them aside with the rest of her clothes. She stood in front of him, slotted perfectly between his knees in only her pink cotton panties. [Y/N] slowly knelt in front of him and ran a finger along the waistband of his pants, carefully peeling them back over his engorged member. She took him in one hand, the flesh on flesh contact causing him to exhale slowly. It was when she brought her mouth to his dick, and lightly kissed the tip did he close his eyes and roll his head back against the couch. Letting her tongue linger on along the shaft, she licked down to his balls before lifting her head and gently removing his pants all the way; taking special care around his wound.

[Y/N] again stood in front of him, but Dean couldn’t wait for her to resume her place on his lap. He gripped his dick and began to massage himself as she watched, and the way she watched made him want her even more. Just as she removed the last piece of clothes, he sat up and with his other hand reached out for her. Neither of them spoke, as he once again guided her on his lap and as she hovered over him, he dragged the tip of his cock through her warm, wet folds and felt himself go weak at the sensation.

Her breathing became shaky as he continued to pushing and pull himself through her sex, brushing her clit delicately at first. But after a few times, even he couldn’t take the teasing anymore.

[Y/N] bent her head down into his neck, her teeth nipping at the lobe of his ear as she begged him in a needy whisper, “Please, Dean… don’t make me wait another second.”

He complied, gladly. Dean let go of himself, and grabbed her hips, rocking her in a way that he could slip into her and filled her with the first thrust upwards. She cried out, but not in pain. It was as if the instant euphoric feeling of him inside her needed to be released so she could concentrate on the rush that followed.

Dean rocked her slowly on his lap, while his mouth toyed with each of her nipples, taking turns lavishing each with attention. His moans were muffled by her chest and he found himself completely lost in how good it felt to be inside her. Her hands were wrapped around him, her nails digging into his back, then his shoulders, pressing him as close to her as she could. Her hips moved in rhythm with his, as her mouth fell open and her eyes closed.

The sounds of heavy breathing filled the room, muffling the Righteous Brothers pouring from the radio, and even drowning out the sound of the fire.

“Fuck,” Dean grunted, his lips snarling into a smiling as she moved her body faster when he cursed. He used the pad of his thumb to rub her clit, the instant he touched her there, she whimpered, her whole body melting at his touch.

“Oh… GOD… fuck, Dean! Feel so good…” she panted, her head rolling back then around so her chin fell to her chest. She was riding him with speed and purpose, the need to climax so great and so close she let go of him to grip the couch for better leverage.

“Damn, baby,” Dean mewed, unsure of how much longer he could go before he would cum. She felt so good on him, and even though that final push towards orgasm was downright euphoric, he didn’t want it to end yet.

He finally released her clit and grabbed her hips tighter, pushing and pulling her into him as roughly as he could. One last time and he felt her walls flutter and spasming around his cock as her body began to tremble and his name didn’t just fall from her lips, but rang out like church bells, followed by a string of expletives that would easily get her sent to Hell.

It was all he needed to cum, and though he tried to move her off him before he did, she finally resisted him, intent on taking his release inside her and crashing her lips to his as he did.

Dean held onto her for dear life, his mouth falling away from hers as he buried his head between her breasts. She held him there and slowed her movements against him, finally coming to a stop and letting her body relax, but still not moving from his lap. He lifted his face to see her, she was sweaty and beautiful, her hair falling around his face, causing some of her features to linger in the shadows of it. He reached up and tucked a hair behind her ear.

“Well? Feel better?”

[Y/N] absently licked her lips, then revealed and small, impish little grin. “Dunno… I think maybe we should go back to the bedroom and try again. Just so I know for sure…”

“Well I am absolutely good with that, but--”

“But, what?” she asked, an ounce of doubt moving into her eyes.

“But, as much as I wanna be the romantic guy and carry you in there, I’m gonna need you to help me hobble that way. I do believe you just drained any strength I had left in my leg.”

“Oh,” she said and moved off him, clearly panicked.

“No… sweetheart… I meant that in a really, really good way. Whatcha say you help me up and we take this back there,” he smirked and nodded towards the bedroom off the kitchen.

“Happily,” she grinned and moved off his lap.

Standing in front of him, she held out her hand and helped him rise from the couch. The pain in his leg was noticeable, but not nearly as much as it had been before. She left her clothes behind and slung an arm around his waist as he slung his over her shoulder.

“Just one request,” she said as they made their way to the bedroom.

“Anything.”

“This needs to go,” she demanded, tugging at his shirt. “I want to feel all of you this time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he complied and quickly discarded the shirt he’d been wearing, tossing it behind him, not caring where it landed. “For you sweetheart, anything.”

Everything Tags: @sorenmarie87 // @yallgotkik

SPN Tags: @kazosa // @wings-of-a-raven // @closetspngirl // @idreamofplaid// @screechingartisancashbailiff // @linki-locks11 // @winchesterxfamilybusiness// @spnhollis // @sandlee44 // @stoneyggirl // @clarinette07 // @negans-wife // @deans-baby-momma // @hobby27 // @breereadsthings // @katehuntington // @81mysteriouslyme // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @deathofmissjackson// @lauravic // @aomi-nabi // @akshi8278 // @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare// @coffeebooksandfandom // @rebelminxy // @22sarah08 // @fictionalabyss// @adoptdontshoppets // @blackcherrywhiskey // @babypieandwhiskey // @maddiepants // @lefthologramdeer // @his-paradox // @unlikelygalaxygiver

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader insert #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fan fics #dean x you #spn fan fics

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chelseareferenced · 5 years

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Who wants to play a Love Game?

WARNING. VERY SUGGESTIVE AND STRAIGHT UP MENTIONS SEXUAL STUFF. THIS IS A LIME. READ ON AT YOUR OWN RISK

Alice opened her eyes and found herself in a place that wasn’t the mirror realm. She was lying in a big bed, with black satin sheet. Oh god. She could feel the sheets… they were soft and smooth. She could feel…

She was out of the mirror. Dark had done it! Alice started laughing and rolling around on the bed when she noticed a neatly folded pile of clothes with a note on top.

Alice, If you happen to wake up when I am not around, these clothes should be comfortable… I look forward to having you in the physical world again and I’m certain you’ll enjoy having me later.

-Dark

Alice’s face flushed a deep read at the very clear sexual desire coming from the note. Dark wanted her right and she didn’t know how to deal with this information. But her shirt was ripped and had blood staining it, so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to change.

Until she saw what the item of clothing was. Her knees went weak when she saw that it was a silk nightgown. That would barely cover her. That perverted… sexy stupid man. Fuck that, if Dark wanted her, he was going have to put more effort than a sexy note and a sexy nightie.

Alice staggered to her feet and walked towards what she assumed to be Dark’s wardrobe and rummaged around until she found one of Dark’s shirts. Oh god it smelled like Dark. Sharp, powerful and consuming all her senses… Stop smelling his shirts you weirdo

Alice quickly pulled off her own tattered blouse and swapped it for the large white shirt. That came down to the middle of her thighs….

Dark wants to play seductive… alright let’s play.

Alice grabbed a belt from the wardrobe and fastened it around her waist, before hiking her skirt for it was barely visible under the shirt. Her hair was already a mess, and she kicked her shoes off before leaving Dark’s room. On a mission to make Dark feel as frustrated as she was right now.

She didn’t plan for bumping into Wilford first. And dressed like this… and considering the last time Will had found her alone. Oh God this was going against her plan. She was supposed to seduce Dark!

“Well well well…” Will’s eyes scanned Alice up and down slowly “What have we here?” “H-hello Will” Alice squeaked out, face blushing. Will’s gaze was intense. Intense and almost hypnotic. Will took a step closer and Alice took a step back. This continued until Alice found herself trapped between Will and a wall.

Damn, Alice at that exact moment understood why Will almost always had someone sharing his bed. He was sexy. Like really sexy. She’d be stupid to trust him but damn she wanted him… He loomed over her, his dark with lust and want and… And he smelled good as well…

Why did they both smell amazing?! It was frustrating! Will smelled sweet, like a mix of fruit and sugar… Wait why Alice leaning closer to him? Oh God he was using the sexy magic on her and it was working… and actually… Now that Alice thought about it…

Last time Will had flirted with Alice, Dark had gotten jealous and she found him waiting for her… and even though she was locked in the mirror, he had made her feel like he was a predator stalking her… maybe having a bit of fun with Will would make tonight’s… activities with Dark even more fun.

“Going somewhere?” Will’s voice rumbled. It was deep and like honey. “Maybe I am… maybe I’m not… what’s it to you?” Alice teased pulling at his suspenders. Will raised an eyebrow “Well maybe I can aid you…” Alice leaned closer, soon their noses where touching and Will’s hands were shaking against the wall. The tension between them was reaching boiling point. “God you’re magnetic…” Will whispered, staring into eyes that had once blue but time and the void had transformed into a deep purple and Will was lost in them. “You know what they say about two opposite poles…” “No. I don’t” “They’re drawn to each other” Will finally broke and leaned in for the kiss… a kiss that never landed and when Alice opened her eyes she saw why. Dark had dragged Will away by his collar and was now screaming at him.

“WHAT IS IT WITH YOU AND PLAYING WITH THINGS THAT DON’T BELONG TO YOU?!” Will laughed, blew a kiss towards Alice and teleported out of Dark’s grip. Dark… was now staring at her, eyes burning with jealously, lust and need. Her plan had worked. Because Dark had now thrown her over his shoulder and was walking back to his room.

“I let you out of my sight for 20 minutes and I find you cosying up to Wilford?!” “You left me… I was lonely” “Lonely?!”

Dark tossed her onto his bed and turned around to lock the door. Alice was a blushing mess all over again as Dark climbed onto the bed and crawled towards her. Oh God she really did feel like prey under Dark’s gaze.

“Oh kitten by the time I’m done with you… you won’t feel lonely at all… I’m going to leave you completely satisfied and you won’t even think of Wilford for a week afterwards”

Maybe her plan had worked a little too… well

________________________________________________________________

*guzzles a whole bunch of chocolate milkshakes* boi I am thirsty after writing this

Btw I actually intended for this one one to be sexy. And I’m very confused but I am alive and might as well be a bit horny on main

Tagging:@raimeyl @purple-anxiety-blog @statictay @toasty-tart @captainsaltypear @gay-spaghetti @theanxiousfander @sunstar121 @sarah-haycock28

#chelseareferenced #markiplier #markiplier cinematic universe #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #y/n district attorney #dark x da #alice larson #lime

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camomills · 5 years

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Title: Pit-bottom Relationships: Lisbeth/Sinon; Lisbeth/Asuna (kinda) Fandom: Sword Art Online Word Count: 1797 Summary: Lisbeth thinks about what love is. Different times in her life bring her to different definitions. Notes: Made for SAO Pride Week 2019 - Day 5: Past, Present and Future. I’ve had so many conversations as to why I interpret Lisbeth as a victim of compulsive heterosexuality that it was only a matter of time until I wrote something that delved into it at least a tiny bit. Thanks to @thegayfromrulid for beta reading.

AO3 Link

Lisbeth was 16 years old and at pit-bottom, figuratively and literally.

“You’re alive,” the boy in black says.

That much was true.

That morning, she wondered if that day would’ve been the day she’d rack up enough Col for a second waterwheel. That seemed like a meaningless worry at that moment, as she stared upwards, the foggy canvas of the sky framed by the walls of the hole she and Kirito had fell in.

The cold was oppressive and all-enveloping down there, but it paled in comparison to the still-settling realization as the teleportation crystal ignored her commands:

She was going to die in that pit.

It was so, so unfair. She did everything right. She stuck to the middle floors. She took to the mostly-civilian lifestyle of a blacksmith and enabled those that’d fight for her liberation. She grew her modest alleyway business into a legitimate shop, and she could feel pride whenever she saw her name emblazoned on that copper sign by its entrance.

All of this was made while latching onto the hope that she’d survive this game and go back to the real world.

And now I’m going to die because I insisted in tagging along with this weirdo.

There were so many things she hadn’t done yet. She wanted to hear her name being announced during roll-call at her graduation ceremony. She wanted to see the Tokyo Skytree. She was considering coursing Engineering at college, despite the demanding entry requirements.

She wanted to kiss someone, just once.

Ah, she thought. I didn’t even get to fall in love, did I?

While they prepared their sleeping bags, she mused for a moment over whom she would fall for had she the chance to so, and wasn’t bound to waste away in icy demise. Shinichi from Class 1-B at her school was cute. Sawamura from her class was okay too, she thinks. Even then, she’d been trapped in Aincrad for over a year, so they’re probably a grade above her now. A shame, really. Rumor has it that Sawamura was a good kisser.

Asuna’s smile flashed in her mind as she catalogued boys, and something in her jolts.

Is Asuna a good kisser?

That was an odd thought. Asuna wasn’t a boy.

As panic subsided and she came to terms with her predicament (Kirito’s words, despite his stoic tone, assuaged her fears), her mind stopped wandering too far out. She was stuck down there with this boy she’d met only hours prior, and the world seemed to shrink as the hours went by: there’s nothing beyond this pit, towering walls of frost and cold floor of snow, and him, roguish charm encased in dark leather.

She hungers for warmth, for touch, for romance, for other things she didn’t get to have due to this game. For the opportunities that were stripped away from her. Her sleeping bag, these clothes, can’t keep her warm. She knows they’re nothing but strewn data, calculating code colder than the surrounding ice.

These won’t do.

It has to be someone, her mind finally registers.

He was the only thing there, other than herself, that was in any way warm. She asked him to hold her hand, and he did. It was a sensation, real and cozy, that she’d seldom experienced in a world of uncaring numbers.

The closest she’d ever had to this feeling, she realized, came from Asuna’s embrace, casual, deliberate, and always so soothing.

As sleep overtook her and her eyes droop closed, she thought of how worried her best friend must have been for her.

At the following sunrise, she wasn’t dead.

In fact, Lisbeth felt very much alive.

She was sent heavenwards while in the arms of this boy, Kirito, his skin brushing against hers, adrenaline and fire rushing in her veins, inferno of emotion hurling through the sky.

She was invincible in that moment, young and unafraid. Everything about it felt so right. That endless thrill, that beautiful sunset born from the parting of clouds: all coalescing into a book-worthy moment.

That must be what love is. That burning in her chest. Lisbeth was sure of it.

With wind howling in her ears, she decided that she was just going to say it.

“Kirito! You know, I…”

“What?!”

“I love you, Kirito!”

He couldn’t hear her ecstasy-fueled confession, and a part of her was happy about that.

It would have been embarrassing. Yes, that must have been the reason she was happy about it.

It’s what makes sense, after all, when she examines herself, heart blazing in the cold and quickly pumping exhales visible in the frost.

Rika was 18 years old and the aroma of freshly brewed black wafted through the air in Dicey Café. Her and Asuna’s laughter blows on the steam rising from their mugs.

“So… you had a thing for me?” Asuna asked. There was no judgment in her tone.

“Yeah,” Rika said. “Took me a while to figure that one out, though. I guess I couldn’t admit to myself that I liked girls too. And then Kirito was right there, the perfect scapegoat for those feelings.”

She tried to take a first sip from her mug, but the heat bit her tongue. Still too hot.

“He had the whole Mysterious Hero thing going on back then, and we had that wild trip. It got pretty easy to convince myself that I was into him. But when you two started dating, it wasn’t you that I was jealous of…”

Rika stared at Asuna expectantly, then smirked.

“I guess I must have been pretty desperate for a love story, if I tricked myself into liking him.”

Without missing the cue, Asuna elbowed Rika.

“He’s still my boyfriend, you know!”

Rika laughs at Asuna’s indignation, and Asuna laughs at Lis laughing at her. The blacksmith’s crude laughter was nothing if not infectious.

Their shared laughter reminds her that Asuna loved her, in the same way she’s always had. And that she still loved Asuna, albeit in a different way than back in Aincrad.

Rika is unsure of what love is, but she thinks that’s a good thing. Maybe the answer isn’t meant to come easy. It’s been two years since the ice dragon incident, and if there’s one thing any SAO Survivor understands is: a couple of years can change everything.

At the very least, it’s enough for a change in perspective. It’s a boost in maturity, as small as it is, that makes her understand that love is not something you seek in desperation, blurting out mindlessly in a moment between life and death. It’s probably something softer, found in the touch of a friend, amidst inside jokes and shared moments of joy like this. And probably not at the bottom of a pit.

Asuna was her best friend, both in Aincrad and in real life. Keiko never missed a day to share recess with her. Klein would take her teasing with little to no complaint. Agil offered her a part-time job at the bar last week, when she turned eighteen.

And, despite everything she says, she has a soft spot for Kirito. He’s a good friend. She’d never say that to his face, though, in fear of his head getting too big for his body.

She doesn’t need to hunger for love, as long as she has these connections.

If the other kind of love knocks at her door, though, then all the better.

The bell by the door chimes, and Asuna and Lis both turn on her stools, sure of who’s there before their vision catches them.

Kirito stands by the entrance and greets the both of them, unaware that he was a topic in their conversation moments ago.

From his side, a bespectacled girl sheepishly waves.

Rika is 22 years old, and she’s late to her part-time job.

It’s not her fault, though. There’s a dog in the apartment.

“Puppy!” Rika coos.

The Japanese Akita simply stares at her, a bit too stoically for a dog, dark slits for eyes betraying nothing.

Shino, sporting her police uniform, stops Lis’s hand as she offers him a corn chip.

“He can’t eat that. He might get sick. He’s got work to do.”

Shino’s dream of becoming a police officer came true, and she’s glad she has enough of a handle on her hoplophobia to manage it. She’s surprised that she was approved into the dog handler unit in her first try, though.

“Hecate is a police official, Rika. You should show him some respect.”

Hecate ? Lis considers teasing her on the name, but concludes otherwise. Shino had her reasons.

Perhaps her face gives her thoughts away, however, because Shino justifies herself.

“Yes, Hecate. He’s my partner, after all.” She manages not to look embarrassed.

Rika giggles. She at times pondered over how come she and Shino wound up together, when she herself scorches like a furnace, hot-red emotion barely contained in her body, while Shino, comparatively, runs cold like the steel that forms the barrel of a firearm.

Rika fancied herself gunpowder.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’d look cuter if he was fat,” Rika threatens. “Big, fat boy.”

She flicks a chip from the bag she was eating into the air. Hecate, shooting up as if a bullet from the homonymous sniper rifle, springs towards the airborne target, corn and wheat meeting trained teeth in a satisfying crunch. His canine expression remains dutifully cold, even as he chews on it.

Shino tries to grimace, but it’s hard while trying to kill a laugh at the same time. She changes the topic, a pair of fingers pressed to her temple.

“Shouldn’t you be at work instead of poisoning the new dog? Agil is going to give you an earful again.”

Rika smirks smugly, and there’s a bit of Lisbeth in that smile.

“It’s okay, he loves me!” She positions a proud hand over her chest. “I’m his only company in that dingy bar.”

Despite her cheeky reply, she puts on her boots faster. Even if her parents are helping with her tuition, she still needs to pull her weight. Engineering is a course with hefty tuition fees.

After a roughly affectionate tussle to the dog’s fur and a quick peck to Shino’s cheek, she runs out the door.

Now an adult, Rika can forgive her younger, juvenile self; that old definition of love, troubadour and romantic, feels endearing in its foolishness. She has a hard time appreciating that romanticized romance now, though, as she gets to bask in what she has available to her now: the domesticity in sharing as well as the presence of her friends. Now that her hunger is sated, her vision clears to what matters.

Her connection to them, all of them, must be what love is.

#SAO #Sword Art Online #saoprideweek2019 #Lisinon #AsuLis #Fili writes

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closetofanxiety · 6 years

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Show Review: Constitution State Wrestling

Last night, I went down to beautiful Groton, Conn. (”The Nuclear Submarine Capital of the World”) with Mark, Mike, and Joel to see a show put on by an indie promotion that was totally new to us. It was, in many ways, a prototypical Local Indie Experience. Let’s count the ways:

National Anthem

This, in many ways, is the earliest and most significant sign that you’re attending a Local Indie as opposed to a National (For Lack of a Better Term) Indie (the national anthem might be played before a Shindie, too, but that’s another subject entirely). Local indies always make everyone stand up for the national anthem, national indies do not. The local indie maintains, at least in vestigial form, a connection to the idea that this is a sporting event, and sporting events begin with the anthem. In this case, the anthem was a pre-recorded instrumental track, but people clapped after it was over anyway.

Public Venue

Unlike a National Indie, which will be in a bar or a rock club or a private fraternal organization’s event hall or a Catholic church with an absurdly Catholic name (New York City national indies only), the Local Indie show will take place in a high school gym or a town hall or a rec center or some other building they can get with a discounted rental fee because of political connections. In this case: Ella T. Grasso Technical High School, a magnificent example of 1970s brutalist school architecture. It was an air-conditioned gym, though, which you wouldn’t expect on the Connecticut shoreline, so kudos to the Constitution State Wrestling folks for that choice.

Advertising and Local Celebs

It’s not a Local Indie without a program, and this show had a program listing the entire card, providing some detail on the two main events (there can be only one main event in reality but whatever) and listing all the local sponsors of the show. As a bonus, there were also signs leading to the venue that just said “Wrestling” with an arrow pointing vaguely in the direction of the school. I cherish these signs of Local Indiedom! There was also a woman from a rock radio station on hand, whose duties were limited to introducing herself and then, later, introducing the women’s match. It’s not a Local Indie without an appearance from a random local celeb: TV meteorologists, disc jockeys, mayors, and others are all perfectly acceptable.

At Least One Wrestler Who’s in the Military

In our case, that was “The Soldier of God” Ronnie Ribbs, which is absolutely one of the best Local Indie names I’ve ever heard in my life. Ronnie Ribbs! “Soldier of God” is a little weird, though. Kind of a Taliban vibe there. Also, since that’s a lot of verbiage to put on your ring gear, that meant Ronnie Ribbs had the acronym “SOG” on the seat of his red, white, and blue trunks which, if you didn’t know what it stood for, could be a little embarrassing. Anyway, he was introduced as a soldier in the U.S. Army, always good for a patriotism pop at a Local Indie. Groton, though, is a Navy town, and when Ribbs was rolled up by opponent “Sensational” Scott Levesque with help from cheating heel manager “High Class” Rich Bass, a guy behind me said, “Just one more reason the Army sucks at everything.”

Event Name That is Not a Cool Pop Culture Reference

Constitution State actually fell down on the job here, as this event did not appear to have a name at all. But a key distinction between a Local Indie and a National Indie is that the latter will usually go with some impenetrable hip pop culture reference (or, worse, just use numbers for each show, like they’re the UFC), whereas local indies are still committed to calling things, like, “Final Showdown” and “Summer Smash Up” and “Brattleboro Brawl” (Brattleboro local indies only) and, of course, “SEASON’S BEATINGS.”

Random Ex-WWE/F Guy

In this case, that role was filled by Gangrel, who really should be getting some of the indie wrestling nerd attention being lavished on PCO. Gangrel is a blast to see live; he gets insanely into it, and takes bumps that are ridiculously bad ideas for a man of his age. He was in the main event here, and the crowd was pretty exhausted by the time it started, but he got them right back into what was really kind of a straightforward brawl with southern New England bad guy Trigga the OG, accompanied, of course, by evil schemer “High Class” Rich Bass, who I’ve never seen before. The crowd was NUTS for Gangrel. When he won, the pop was huge, although it was slightly disappointing that only Joel chanted “Fang and bang! Fang and bang!” Gangrel loved that though. He pointed to Joel and did the throat-cross-into-the-hook-’em-horns thing.

Local Wrestling Academy Students’ Match

Often, this is a battle royal, but thank God that was not the case here. Instead, we saw Matt Taven trainees Joey Bones and Todd Harris, the latter working a “rich prick from Newport” gimmick. Both guys were decent, show real promise, and, notably, had really good gear. Invest in yourselves, aspiring wrestlers! You’ll stand out from the pack.

A Comedy Match That Isn’t Funny

I like comedy wrestling. I know lots of people don’t, but that’s why they make different kinds of ice cream. However, there’s a Chuck Taylor/Orange Cassidy comedy match, and then there’s a Local Indie comedy match, which is basically like a Three Stooges short mixed with some inexplicable Attitude Era flourishes. In this case, it was the awesomely-named Necromancer (short, stout guy with Papa Shango face paint and no apparent ability to speak to the dead) vs. 2Buff w/ The Buffdad, a legitimate father and son duo whose gimmick is that they are not, in fact, buff, but that they constantly do that thing where they put their hands behind their heads and swivel their hips, kind of like a Chippendale dancer would do on an episode of “Designing Women.” Laughs were notably absent, at least from the four of us. Mercifully, this match was broken up by James Ellsworth, who was booked as a random ex-WWE guy but is now, once again, an actual WWE guy. What must he have thought, staring out at the 250 or so people in a high school gym, knowing that in three nights he’ll be facing Asuka on live national television in front of maybe 12,000 people. Anyway, Ellsworth issued an open challenge, and another classic Local Indie thing happened: some loud music hit, and a guy walked out to answer the challenge, but instead of the “Oh shit you gonna get it NOW” reaction from the crowd, there was puzzlement, as no one knew who the challenger was. It didn’t help that he looked like just A Dude in red basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. Later we would learn that he is Wildman Kongo and he would go on to have a bad match with James Ellsworth in front of a tired crowd.

Excitable Fans

Hot crowd, especially before the intermission! At the start of the lone tag team bout, which pitted Brutal Bob Evans and “Tough Tim” against two guys called Riot City’s Most Wanted who looked like indie wrestlers circa 2003, one young fan became so enraged at the heels that he jumped the rail, the first time I think I’ve ever seen that at a show. He was about 11, though, and his friends quickly pulled him back over, so we were spared the sight of Brutal Bob having to PROTECT THE BUSINESS by breaking a child’s jaw. Local indie fixture the Fogman was also there. He’s not really excitable, necessarily, but he’s a fan. We talked to him during intermission and, I mean, he’s an OK guy. He’s his own biggest fan, but what’s so bad about a little self-confidence?

A “Ladies’ Match”

Never a women’s match or just “a match,” on a Local Indie it’s always a LADEEEEES MATCH, the segregation compounded here by having the radio station woman do the only thing she did all night by announcing the competitors, Isana and Jawsolyn. The regular ring announcer was a rockabilly guy, complete with Rev. Horton Heat necktie and suede shoes. He was fine. Isana is a big lass but mobile and specializes in suplays, while Jawsolyn’s gimmick is that she is a shark. That should have gone over better in a coastal town, but people were mostly politely indifferent to this match which, in fairness, was slow and clunky.

One National Indie-Caliber Match

Increasingly, the people who promote and book Local Indies are fans of national indie wrestling, or Japanese wrestling, or British wrestling, or what have you. In this, their tastes diverge from those of their fanbase, which mostly consists of normal, blue collar Americans who just want a fun night out instead of weirdos arguing about BOLA lineups on Reddit all night or people who will slash your tires if you so much as say a disparaging word against Kenneth Omega. To try to satisfy their own creative longings, the promoters and bookers usually put one match on the card that could be on the card of a PWG show or Beyond show or AAW show or whatever. This is normally received by the Local Indie crowd with the same quiet endurance 205 Live is received by WWE crowds, but tonight was an exception. Matt Cross and JT Dunn, meeting for only the second time ever, had a tear-down-the-house 20-minute match that had the good blue collar people of America’s Nuclear Submarine Heartland going absolutely nuts and bananas. This was, indeed, a great match, one of the best I’ve seen all year: neither guy worked heel, but both of them wrestled as though they were actually trying to win an athletic competition, which is rarer than it should be in pro wrestling. Dunn dominated the first half of the match by keeping Cross on the ground and softening him up with wear-down holds to try and create openings for hard strikes. In the second half, Cross was finally able to take to the air, and made his spectacular offense seem credible and devastating. There were, by my count, three “This is awesome” chants, a “Both these guys” chant, and a “Fight forever” chant. People LOVED this match. YOU SEE, VINCE? PEOPLE ACTUALLY LIKE WRESTLING WHEN ok I’m not going to start with that. But it was nice to see a normal American wrestling crowd go nuts for a match that would not be out of place in Reseda or wherever the hell PWG shows are now.

#show reviews #indie wrestling #indy wrestling #Constitution State Wrestling

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leaveharmony · 6 years

Photo

In 2014, NJPW released a few short documentaries on World, before Wrestle Kingdom 9. They were all released in versions with and without english subtitles; this is my transcription of the english subtitles on part one of Shinsuke Nakamura’s. I’ve done this before with plain screencaps interspersed (nobody cared then either!) but I wanted to redo it with .gifs, ‘cos I really love these little videos, and ‘cos I can now, and also, just ‘cos. :)

This is Part 1, Part 2 is here.

(The main part of the video opens with Shinsuke walking down a crowded street in a shopping district)

Caption: In the busy Komachi street, we found Nakamura

Interviewer’s question as they walked near some bakeries: “Do you often eat sweets like this, Nakamura-san?”

Shinsuke: “Can I appear on talk shows if I do? (laughs)”

(this seems like a non-sequitur but per info from a better-versed friend of mine, I guess Makabe often shows up on TV eating stuff like that b/c compared with his gruff image, people think it’s funny, so Shin may have been making a little bit of fun of that here)

IQ: “How often do you eat them?”

SN: “Well, I used to eat them regularly. In particular rice cakes, because my parents shop.”

IQ: “Rice cake shop?”

SN: “Not rice shop, they only sold rice cakes, making sweet bean paste in a caldron.”

(**transcriber’s note: Shinsuke’s father was a banker, he was in poor health from the time Shinsuke was in middle school, and died suddenly on his first day of classes at university. According to his book they did in fact run a small sweet shop that he would stop in at on his way home from school in highschool, to snack, but I’m not sure exactly how long they ran the place or if his mother still does)

Caption: Suddenly he is drawn into one of the shops

Caption: Kamakura Ichibanya, Kamakura City

(Shinsuke buys some nuresenbei, wet rice crackers. He takes them & thanks the shop clerk, smiling hugely. He stands outside eating one, then starts laughing a bit)

SN: “It tastes great.”

IQ: “Is it ‘Nuresen’?”

SN: “Yes. It’s not a crunchy rice cracker but moist. (he’s still laughing) That’s nice.”

IQ: “Is it like you?”

SN: “This..(he’s still eating) no firmness.”

(Shinsuke moves on, grinning. He’s got seaweed blacking out a few of his front teeth from the crackers & keeps grinning to show this off b/c he is a precious bean and also a weirdo. )

(Shinsuke stops again, at a rack of christmas cards)

SN: “Let’s make it a rule to omit New Years cards if we send Christmas cards.”

IQ: “Do you send christmas cards?”

SN: “I send either of them. I receive christmas cards from abroad. From other wrestlers, and my friends.”

IQ: “Rocky Romero?”

SN, laughing: “He’s the last person who’d send me a card.”

IQ: Alex? (Koslov, presumably, who used to tag w/ Rocky in CHAOS as Forever Hooligans)

SN: “No, he’s too stupid to do it.”

IQ: “It’s time to prepare New Years cards.”

SN (laughing but with a pained look): “Yes, it is.”

IQ: “How will your card be like this year?”

SN: “I’d like to abolish New Year’s cards if possible. (he starts laughing again)”

IQ: “Do you have an image of your card?”

SN: “I haven’t thought about it at all. Just looking at Christmas cards.”

IQ: “It’s time to prepare them though.”

SN: “I’ll just buy some at the post office. (laughing again)”

IQ: “Don’t you use your creativity?”

SN: “No. If I devoted myself to it, I couldn’t finish them in time to send out.”

(he moves on down the street)

Caption: He can seldom find time for himself due to his extremely busy schedule

(as they walk, Shinsuke sees a shop and says “They are renting kimono.” They’re interrupted by one of Shinsuke’s phones ringing.)

SN (talking to someone on the phone): I don’t have time at all this week.

Caption: During the shooting, he received a call for an interview.

SN: “I’m on camera right now. Yes. Why don’t you come over to Fukushima?”

(*transcriber’s note: an upcoming show was taking place there)

SN: “The match is on Friday. Thank you for calling.”

(he hangs up, another pained expression. He turns around and says, “Here is a traffic light” as they cross the street. There’s a brief scene from a later part of the interview, obviously a reference to how busy he is here)

SN: “I lose or break my cell phone so that they can’t find me, but they force me to finish all my tasks anyway.”

(Shinsuke is walking through a tunnel)

Caption: Knowing the dark age of NJPW, how does he view its prosperity?

SN: “It was said to be a hard era but sometimes I really doubt that. I think it was harder when we started NJPW. There were various eras. I experienced the time of transition. As I’ve been in the middle of that era, I’m not sure if it has reached its peak, although it is considered successful now. I don’t think we can keep the status quo for long. We always need to make change to progress even if it is internal and invisible. I’m not satisfied with it. Not at all.”

IQ: “Do you still have many things to do?”

SN: “Yes, though I need to look for what to do.”

Caption: Lunchtime enjoy tastes in Shonan.

(We focus on the sea, and then a bowl of helpfully-labelled raw whitebait, a Shonan speciality. Shinsuke is sitting at a table in front of a tray of food.)

SN: “I’m about to have Tsukudani with rice.”

(fun fact caption popup: “fish-lover”)

IQ: “Here it is.”

SN (laughing): “This is raw whitebait, not Tsukudani. How much whitebait is fished at once? (he picks his hashi up) How many are there in this bowl?”

IQ: “Count them.”

SN (laughing): “Alright, I will. (he starts pointing with his hashi and pretending to count each one) One, two, three, four…I guess they are about a thousand. How much whitebait are landed at one time? (he starts to eat) Is it strange if I don’t eat the whitebait from this bowl? I’ll start. (he takes a bite, and makes a noise that’s hard to interpret exactly) It’s like…I can enjoy its texture, right? (he starts laughing again as he’s eating)”

IQ: “Does it have a taste?”

SN: “No, not really. Whitebait doesn’t stand out on its own, that’s why we add ginger or shiso. That’s how to really enjoy this dish. (he laughs again - I don’t think what he was eating had either in it) It tastes good.”

Caption: His daily diet

SN (talking with his mouth full, occasionally laughing about it): “These days I think a lot about balance. My diet used to be too strict so I lost that balance. So, there is no “on” and “off” for me. During a tour, I mainly eat out and most dishes are too heavy, so at home I try to avoid such heavy food. I eat lots of seaweed. On the day after a typhoon, we rush to the shore and collect the seaweed washed ashore or fallen off racks. We put them in plastic bags to share them with neighbors. On top of that, sometimes a lot of sardines wash up on shore. We run back down to the shore again and gather sardines in bags. (laughing) I think it’s familiar to the people here.”

SN: “We go to the sea after a storm. One thing that I found that surprised me most were some dentures. (laughing) They were pretty nice, too.”

Caption: Heading for a major spot of Kamakura walk. Suddenly on the way…he became curious about the signboard of Daibutsu

IQ: “Why were you checking out the Daibutsu signboard?”

SN: “We have Kami-sama (gods) and Oshaka-sama (Buddhas)…the Daibutsu is a Hotoke-sama (Buddha statue). So why don’t we use ‘-sama-? (laughing) Only Daibutsu is ‘Daibutsu.’ Even for place names, ‘-sama’ isn’t used. Buses are ‘bound for Daibutsu’ or ‘Daibutsu slope’. Why isn’t it ‘Daibutsu-sama’?”

IQ: “Did the board distract you?”

SN: “Yes, badly. Did Daibutsu do something wrong? (laughing) It’s disrespectful.”

Caption: Kotokuin, Kamakura City

(Shinsuke goes to a …I don’t know the term but it’s like a little pavilion with cleansing water in it)

Caption: Before having the honor of seeing he cleans himself

(Shinsuke takes one of the ladels, runs water over both hands and takes a drink, then says “All right.” and continues on his way)

Caption: Time to see Daibutsu

(Shinsuke arrives at the big Buddha statue, in a pretty wooded spot. It’s…really really big.)

IQ: “Is this your first time seeing Daibutsu?”

SN: “I thought you could see it sooner, but on the way here, it just suddenly appeared. (laughs)”

Caption: Kamakura Daibutsu, national treasure, height 11.312m weight 121t

SN: “I think…it has four birds on its head, and…it’s kind of cute. (he starts laughing again) It looks great.”

(transcriber’s note: one of the few things I actually understood, here he actually said “eeeeeeh, sugoi.”)

SN: “It would be quite tall standing up. Wow. I wish it would start moving.”

Caption: (I think they intended to ask him more what he thought about it, but then) Nakamura suddenly started moving to another space. Something came up in his mind.

(Shinsuke wanders off by the trees, looking at the ground. A maintenance guy is using a leaf blower in the background)

The maintenance guy: Do you like coloured leaves? (the interviewer reiterates the question, Shinsuke doesn’t appear to have heard)

SN: “I’m looking for ginkgo nuts. (everybody starts laughing)”

IQ: “Are there any?”

SN: “No. The nuts are all cleared away.”

(transcriber’s note: all but the big cute one in the hat, that is)

Caption: We take off our hat to his unpredictable behavior.

(a bit of time passes - Shinsuke is perched on one of the log benches, looking around at people, and the statue)

SN: “I like doing nothing. Well…yes. Not only on my days off but also in the time between work, practices or any other commitments, I find chances to relax. (laughing)”

IQ: “Do you see anything interesting?”

SN: “I saw two guys from Thailand. They were taking photos of each other, posing in their own favorite ways. Depending on the country it varies how people pose or frame photos. Some people put tape on the ground and take turns. (laughing) It’s impressive.”

IQ (about the tape on the ground): “What do you think this is?”

SN: “The tape marks the spot to stand. It is definitely a marker because…(he looks oddly faraway, sad) there are more over there. I’m curious.”

(we switch to dusk, and Shinsuke walking along the shore of the sea)

Caption: The sea is a familiar thing for Nakamura

IQ: “How are the waves today?”

SN, laughing: “There are no waves today. Typhoon no.22 has already gone to the west. No swell is approaching. There is no wind to make windwells.”

Caption: The life with the sea

SN: “How to I say this…when I am in the sea, I feel the energy of nature wiping away the concerns clinging to my mind. I feel the ocean wiping them away. Not only because good thing I can think of but I like the ocean, because I think I feel more at ease in the water.”

Caption: Dream

SN: “My dream? Well, I always want to be newly inspired I don’t know if pro wrestling is the means to achieve that dream, but I am trying to come closer and closer to a sort of ideal of myself. What matters to me is not what other people think. It is, at the end of the day, how much I can accept myself. It isn’t if I’m satisfied, but rather if I make sense to myself. I also have small dreams. (he starts laughing) I want to live in a southern island without any cares, or to spend my time only having fun. But I think I need various views whether good or bad, in order to do what I want.”

Caption: What pro wrestling is?

SN: “Pro wrestling? For me, it is something…although I can say it in different ways, it allows me to express my emotions that I can’t express in words, or to show that I am alive. I can unleash my various emotions through pro wrestling, including both positive and negative ones, such as stress, unsatisfaction and joy. It is also evidence of my own existence, proof that I am alive, I am here, and I am a person like this. I don’t treat it as a mere sport.”

#Shinsuke Nakamura #Pretty Soldier Nakamura #Rasslin'#Movin' pixels #Shinsuke's Good Vibrations #The Emergency Button

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magic-magpie · 7 years

Text

Birthday Message

Wow, this has got to be the shortest thing I’ve written in a long time. I said I’d write something short, and I did! Huzzah! I got the idea from @otp-fanfic-ideas, so check out their blog if you want some cool ideas! I’ll reblog the one I used, shall I?

UsUk fanfic, 2,398 words.

It’s Alfred’s birthday today! Send him a birthday wish to let him know you’re thinking of him!

Yes, Arthur knew it was Alfred’s birthday. He didn’t need a Facebook notification to tell him that it was his crush’s birthday.

Furthermore, Arthur was always thinking of Alfred. Well, not always. That would be creepy and obsessive. Just enough times during the day to confirm that he did indeed have a crush on Alfred.

If he let Alfred know he was thinking of him, Alfred would know he had a huge-ass crush on him.

But Arthur needed to send him a birthday wish. Alfred was the type of guy who regularly updated his Facebook status, tagged people (mostly Arthur and Matthew) in stuff, posted pictures, the like. He’d consider the lack of a Facebook birthday message an insult.

So Arthur had to send him a birthday message.

The only thing was, he didn’t know how. Not literally; he knew what he had to do to post it, he just didn’t know what to write. Usually he just wrote a quick ‘Happy birthday, Alfred!’ and accompanied it with a picture of his favourite superhero or something, but he couldn’t do that on Alfred’s sixteenth! The sixteenth was special, and so the message had to be special!

Plus, there was the fact that Alfred had sent that birthday message that made his heart flutter and made him fall deeper in love.

Happy birthday, Artie! Sixteen now, bro! Just wanted to say that you’re a hella awesome friend and if I didn’t have you in my life it would be duller ‘cause I wouldn’t have your shining sarcasm to brighten it up! Not to mention your intelligence and sharp wit and all that stuff. Also, your writing abilities are mega-awesome and you’ve got the best imagination I’ve ever seen! So, y’know. Have a hella awesome birthday, and I’m really glad you’re my friend!!

Arthur could not send a simple ‘Happy birthday!’.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, itching to type what he really wanted to say. He really wanted to tell Alfred what a brilliant person he was; tell him just how seeing his dazzling smile made Arthur’s day better; tell him how his laugh was wonderfully infectious, if loud and obnoxious; tell him about how addictive his shining optimism and hyperactivity were; tell him how his outrageous ideas were simply testament to how much of a genius he was; tell him that he was amazing in every sense of the word.

But that would be the same as typing ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALFRED DID YOU KNOW I HAVE A MASSIVE CRUSH ON YOU?’.

So, no.

Sighing in frustration, he procrastinated by finding a good picture of Captain America that he could edit into a Happy Birthday e-card, and then once he found one he procrastinated even more by editing it. And this involved finding a suitable background, painstakingly cutting out the image of Steve Rogers, choosing the right colours and the right font, laying it out correctly, all of which took him an hour to do in total.

An hour later he had a perfect e-card, but no message.

Look, just write something which sounds like something you’d say!

Yeah, but do I use real me or hiding-a-crush me?

Use hiding-a-crush you, for God’s sake! Unless you want to tell him how you feel, which I REALLY don’t recommend. He’s gay, but not gay for you.

Shut up, I don’t need you to remind me!

Scowling, Arthur went back onto Facebook. Conversations with himself surrounding his crush always ended like that, with himself reminding him that he had no chance with Alfred. The boy was cheery, optimistic, sunny, dazzling. Why on Earth would he ever want to burden himself down with Arthur’s cynicism, pessimism, sarcasm, and bluntness? Being Alfred’s love was only a fantasy. A shining, brilliant fantasy.

After debating for about five minutes on what to write, he finally typed in something, uploaded his e-card, and hit send.

Arthur Kirkland > Alfred Foster Jones Happy birthday, wanker. Now you’re sixteen years closer to death.

Satisfied, he switched off his laptop and began messing around on his phone, listening to music and scrolling through Tumblr and whatnot, his mind on other things. In a few hours he’d be going to Alfred’s and the two would be going to the ice-skating rink for his party, along with a few of their other friends who they’d meet there. He couldn’t wait to go to Alfred’s house, to sit with him on the bus, to skate with him, to have Alfred hold his hands as he taught Arthur how to skate, to fall into Alfred’s arms when he would end up tripping...

His notification tone rang out, effectively snapping him out of his wonderful daydream. Irritated, he checked his messages, and scoffed. Turned out it was Francis who’d texted him. Francis was his best friend, but he still didn’t approve of being texted by him when he was in the middle of imagining how Alfred’s strong arms would feel around him.

-Arthur what kind of birthday message was THAT

Arthur stared in confusion before he remembered that everyone could see his birthday message, not just Alfred.

-A fine one. Why do you ask?

-Arthur that was anything but fine you have a CRUSH on this boy why are you like this

Arthur scowled. A few months ago (on Arthur’s birthday, incidentally), Francis had figured out the object of Arthur’s affections when he’d caught sight of Arthur smiling and blushing uncontrollably in response to Alfred’s birthday message, and now he’d taken it upon himself to be his Romantic Advisor. His ‘advice’, however, always seemed to be along the lines of ‘hint until he figures it out’.

-Well, I’m not exactly going to give him a sappy message, am I? He’ll KNOW I like him if I do that!

-Mon DIEU Arthur! You’ll scare him off at this rate!

-Pfft, Alfred knows I wish him well. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have stayed my friend all these years, would he? Honestly, I think sending a heartfelt message would scare him more.

-You are hopeless

Another notification tone rang out, and Arthur pulled down the drop-down menu to read it.

Alfred Foster Jones commented on your picture.

His birthday message popped up, and Arthur felt a little nervous as he scrolled to see what Alfred had said. Despite his words to Francis, there was still the small chance Alfred might take offence, especially considering the sweet birthday message he’d given Arthur.

Alfred Foster Jones Haha love ya too british bastard 😂

Arthur let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and grinned like an idiot. Alfred hadn’t taken offence, and had even realised that he held him close to his heart.

He’d even said ‘love ya too’.

Arthur hid his face in his hands and did his best to refrain from gleefully jumping up and down, knowing he’d get all four of his brothers coming into his room and being nosy if he did so. So he contented himself with reading the comment over and over again (concentrating especially on the ‘love ya too’ part).

About five minutes later, Arthur’s notification tone rang out again, alerting him to a text that turned out to be from Alfred.

-Dude?

-You there?

Arthur hastened to respond. He didn’t much mind texts from Alfred.

-Yes, why?

The next text made his breath hitch and eyes go wide.

-Francis kinda told me you like me

Arthur felt himself burn with both anger and embarrassment. On the first day Francis had brought up his knowledge of Arthur’s crush Arthur had very explicitly told him not to tell Alfred. And what had the fucker done? God, Alfred probably thought him some sort of weirdo freak now. He wouldn’t want Arthur round at his house anymore, he would probably act awkward and uncomfortable around him now, they’d grow apart instead of closer –

-Wait wait wait dont go and chew francis out!!

Arthur scowled – that was exactly what he’d been planning on doing.

-Why ever should I not? The bastard frog’s embarrassed me.

-Cause youre gonna thank him!

He blinked, and furrowed his eyebrows. Was Alfred saying... What Arthur thought he was saying? Or was Arthur reading too far into it?

-What a ludicrous notion.

-Nah nah nah, its not ludicrous at all!

-Cause, er...

Arthur waited, his heart in his mouth. There was no way – Alfred couldn’t –

-I kinda like you too, Artie.

Alfred could.

Arthur’s eyes widened and a giddy, deliriously happy feeling took hold of him, making his heart beat a million times a minute and making him feel like he was soaring high above the world. He stared at the message until it was ingrained into his memory, not quite believing his luck.

Alfred liked him back.

These two years of desperately wanting Alfred to be his wasn’t for nothing, because Alfred liked him back.

-Artie?? You stil there??

-Yes.

The amount of restraint it took to not keyboard-smash an excited response was quite frankly astounding.

-So?

-Whaddaya say?

-*’What do [I] say’ to what?

-Pfft, grammar nerd 😝

-Anyway, WHADDAYA say to me asking you out?

Oh God.

Was Alfred trying to make him spontaneously combust with joy?

If he’d needed self-restraint before, he needed ten times the amount now. For God’s sake, Alfred had just asked Arthur out! Day after day Arthur had constructed scenarios in which they confessed to each other, but not once had it crossed his mind that it may actually have ended up happening.

Act cool, Arthur. Don’t freak him out.

-I say that’s a wonderful idea, and I’m inclined to respond with a ‘yes’.

Not two seconds later Alfred called him, and Arthur pressed ‘Accept’ only to be met with Alfred’s loud American voice screaming down the phone.

“OHMIGOD WE’RE DATING ARTIE WE’RE DATING HOLY SHIT YOU’RE MY BOYFRIEND OHMIGOD OHMIGOD OHMIGOD!”

Arthur could practically hear the wide smile stretched across Alfred’s face. What he wouldn’t give to see it...

“How long have you liked me?” Alfred asked excitedly. “It’s been ten months for me, ever since we went to Alton Towers together.”

“Tch, amateur,” Arthur said, although Alfred’s words made his heart go aflutter. Ten months. For ten months Alfred had liked him. However small a time that was compared to how long Arthur had been yearning for Alfred, it still made him smile uncontrollably. “Try two years.”

“Two years?!” He exclaimed. “How the heck did you survive?! I was going crazy with ten months!”

“You learn a few tricks, I guess. Namely, just act how you acted before developing the attraction.” God, Arthur didn’t know how he was keeping himself so calm when all he wanted to do was jump around with joy.

“I think it’s a good thing that I couldn’t hide it well, though,” Alfred mused.

“How come?”

“Well, Francis found me out. That’s why he told me that you like me, ‘cause he knew about five months ago that I like you. Oh, he also told me to tell you that the only reason he told me that you like me is because – er, what was it – oh, because you weren’t ever going to get the ball rolling, so he had to... Or something.”

It was surprising that Arthur even understood that.

He laughed, not having the will to be irritated at Francis anymore. The bloke had literally just gotten Arthur and Alfred to date – being annoyed at him would be criminal.

“Thank God you wear your heart on your sleeve, hm? I didn’t know how much longer I could take it,” Arthur said. Then, a thought suddenly struck him. “Oh, and I actually do wish you a happy birthday, by the way! I just... I wanted to give you a special message like you did for me, but I didn’t know how to go about it without revealing anything.”

“Oh yeah, that!” Alfred laughed in his wonderful way on the other side of the phone. “I knew you meant well, dude! And it was kinda cute.”

Arthur knew his face was beet red by this point, and he muttered, “Sh-shut up, it wasn’t cute.”

“Pfft, yeah it was! Anyway,” he said before Arthur could protest, “seeing as how we’re now boyfriend and boyfriend, do – d’ya wanna come round to mine now instead of later? If you’ve got other things to do that’s totally fine of course, I just wondered if-“

“Alfred,” Arthur interrupted, grinning. Alfred was a confident bloke, but it seemed that romantic stuff could turn him into a nervous wreck. Now that’s cute.

“I’d love to, Alfred.”

“C-cool!” He could sense that Alfred was relieved. “So, heh, I guess I’ll see you soon?”

“See you,” Arthur said, then hung up, grinning like a lovesick dork at his phone. And then he finally let it all out – all the excitement and euphoria and giddiness just burst out of him as he rolled off his bed and jumped and squealed all over his room, not caring when his brothers came barging in and saw him bouncing up and down like a hyperactive jack-in-the-box.

Alfred was his boyfriend.

His BOYFRIEND.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” one of his brothers asked, looking truly confused.

“Alfred’s my boyfriend and I’m off to his house so if you don’t mind please get out I need to change, thanks!” Arthur shoved them out and began getting himself ready to go to Alfred’s, the ecstatic feeling not lessening in the slightest.

Ten minutes later he was zipping up his boots when his phone buzzed with a text from Francis.

-So are you going to change your Facebook relationship status yet?

-Alfie has

Arthur couldn’t scowl at Francis meddling in his love life, not after what he’d done.

-I suppose I’ll do it, then. ...Thanks, by the way.

-Always happy to help the romantically-inept 😘

He just knew that Francis was chuckling behind his phone, and so was Arthur. But Francis was right – he should update his relationship status. Alfred was a social media addict, even if Arthur wasn’t.

Arthur Kirkland went from being single to being in a relationship with Alfred Foster Jones.

Less than a minute later his phone buzzed again, this time with a Facebook notification.

Alfred Foster Jones And I couldn't be happier!! 😆

Arthur smiled.

#aph usuk #UsUk #Fluff #Oneshot #My fanfic #gakuen hetalia #I guess #what else do i tag #i honestly have no idea #Cute #Fanfiction

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