#i live close to my campus so i actually started bringing some stuff home today and one of my dogs was so happy to see me 🥺

[ilovethecolorpink]

i finished my last final paper today btw :D

[achitka]

Day Five: Cold

Day Five: Cold

Mirabel sat looking out of her fifth-floor dorm window at the white flakes falling from the sky. She cracked the window open and put her hand out. Little white flecks dropped onto her hand and immediately melted. Tia Pepa’s snow would often melt before it even hit the ground, seeing so much of it in person was just fascinating. Still, the unstable weather patterns here made her miss her Tia, then her parents, then her abuela.

While she never experienced this much actual snow before. She’d read books about the stuff and yesterday the weather was nice, not too cold but blustery. Today… snow. Mirabel shivered when the wind swirled into her room, bringing some snowflakes along with it. The weather in this part of the United States was so unpredictable, and she noticed it was starting to cover the ground.  Mirabel wondered how long it would snow for as she pushed the window closed.

It was quiet here, sometimes a little too quiet. She didn't realize just how much she would miss the random tile movements that had been a part of her life since she was a baby.

She didn’t have any classes today, so went to her desk and turned on her laptop. She promised her Mamá she would write her an email every day. It would be nice if she could call, but cell service was sketchy at best in the mountains. She kinda regretted that promise, but being the youngest of her mom's kids, it was her cross to bear. On the upside, Christmas was coming, and she would be going home to Colombia soon. She hoped she’d be able to see them all, but Tío Bruno was in Mexico to pitch a movie. Isabela was somewhere in Chile doing plant surveys of endangered species for her postgraduate of something or other.

Mirabel clicked her email box and found she had a number of emails from Antonio. She smiled when she realized they had all been sent within minutes of each other. He did that whenever he had something to tell her that he forgot to put in the last one. She counted a total of seven from him, and she noticed she had one from Camilo. That almost never happened, before she could open it, there was a gentle knock on her door.

Mirabel got up and opened it to find Luisa standing there holding out a coat, some gloves and a knitted cap. Luisa lived off campus. She was set to graduate in the spring next year, and that was why Mira was at this university. When she was sixteen, she tested out of secondary school, so her parents decided she could go to university early but only if she went to this university. But if she had to be stuck in the middle of nowhere America, Luisa was the one she'd want to be stuck with.

“Come on, Mira. There’s finally enough snow on the ground to make a snowman,” Luisa said as she came into her room.

Mira took the coat, hat and gloves but said, “I was just getting ready to... ”

“Whatever it is, do it later. It's getting late, and it’ll be dark soon,” Luisa said and handed her the boots they’d gone shopping for the month before. “Seriously, Mira, you haven’t even taken the tags off.”

“I like my regular shoes.”

“Not in the snow, you won’t.”

Mirabel shrugged and took the boots. She glanced back at her desk and then at the window. She didn’t like being out after dark, and these days it was dark by six o’clock. The snow was really coming down, and she thought, why not. So once she was geared up, they headed out into the winter wonderland and made a snowman.

[simpfornatasharomanoff]

Tony’s Intern

A/N: Here’s the fic for day two of my 500 follower celebration! Sorry its out late, I’ve been super busy today! This will have a part 2! THIS WASN’T EDITED/LOOKED OVER SO I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR ANY MISTAKES!!!

Here’s a link to my Masterlist!

Warnings: Cursing, violence (Let me know if I need to add any!!!)

Word Count: 5,419 

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You’ve been Tony’s intern for a while. He finally decides its time for you to start working at the Avengers Tower. On your first day at the Avengers Tower, an interesting red head points her gun at you

Part Two

Being Tony Stark’s intern is interesting to say the least. You didn’t do too much - your job was relatively easy. You fill out paperwork, file said paperwork, and listen as Tony explains and shows you some of his new ideas. There would be times that Tony would actually ask you for feedback. But other than that, there wasn’t much that Tony actually made you do.

That being said, you love being Tony’s intern. You get to dip your toes into the kind of work you want to do - technical engineering. You’ve always loved building and creating things and your love for it only grew as you got older.

For the past six months you’ve been Tony’s intern. You’ve always worked in his home office. His office was relatively close to your college campus and you would always walk from campus to Tony’s office.

“Y/N,” Tony says, setting your recently finished paperwork on his desk.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” You ask, slinging your backpack over your shoulders.

“Starting tomorrow, you’ll be working with me over at the Avengers Tower,” Tony says, sliding the paperwork into a folder.

“The… The Avengers Tower?” You ask, fiddling with your fingers. “That’s where the Avengers uhm live, and train,” You state dumbly.

Tony looks up from his desk and looks at you. He sees your nervous state and gently laughs. “No need to worry, Y/N,” Tony says, standing from his desk chair. “We’ll be down in my lab and none of the others will come down there.” Tony sits on the edge of his desk. “I’ll have Happy Hogan pick you up from your apartment.”

“Actually, I come right here after class,” You inform the billionaire. “I can just walk to the Avengers Tower.”

“Nonsense,” Tony says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Happy will pick you up at your college campus!”

“Okay,” You say with a small smile. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Anything for my favorite intern,” Tony says, with a small laugh.

“I’m your only intern,” You say with a roll of your eyes.

“Exactly,” Tony says with a smile. “Now, you get out of here and get home. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“See you tomorrow!” You say, waving goodbye to Tony as you exit his office.

---

You’re standing in front of your campus’s main building, waiting for Happy Hogan to pick you up. Your eyes watch every car that drives past you, not sure what kind of car he’s going to pick you up in.

You pull your winter coat tighter around your body as you feel the cold winter air send chills through your body. You bring your hands to your mouth and cup them. You blow into your hands, trying to warm them up. You left your gloves at your apartment and it’s moments like these that you wish you had an extra pair that you kept in your backpack. You pull your hands from your face and stuff them into your coat pockets. You bounce on your feet a little bit, desperate to keep yourself warm in the cold New York weather.

A sleek, black car with tinted windows screeches to a stop in front of you. The drivers’ door is swung open and a man stands up, looking across the top of the car and over at you. “Y/N Y/L/N, right?” The man asks.

“Yes, sir,” You say with a nod.

“I’m Happy Hogan, Tony sent me to pick you up,” The man informs.

He walks around to the other side of the car and opens the backseat door for you. “Oh, thank you,” You say, swinging your backpack off of your shoulders. You duck down and enter the car, setting your backpack on the empty seat next to you.

Happy closes the door, before making his way back to the driver’s side. He gets in and quickly takes off.

You look out of the window, watching as snow begins to fall from the sky. You feel the heat blasting throughout the car and you’re thankful you aren’t standing outside in the cold anymore.

The drive to the Avengers Tower is silent and very awkward. Happy doesn’t say anything to you, and you certainly don’t say anything to him as your nerves are already getting the better of you. Happy doesn’t even turn the radio on and that baffles you because who doesn’t listen to the radio when they drive?!

Happy pulls into the Avengers Tower parking lot, stopping to flash his badge to the guard at the gate. You look out of the window and stare at the tower in awe. You’ve seen plenty of pictures of the tower on the internet, and you’ve seen it a few times from far away, but you’ve never seen it this close in person.

Happy pulls up to the front of the tower. He puts the car in park before opening his door and stepping out of the car, leaving the car running. He walks to your side of the car and opens the door for you.

You grab your backpack from the seat next to you and slide out of the car. You pull your backpack onto your shoulders and Happy closes the door after you’ve stepped out of the car.

“Here, you’re going to need this,” Happy holds his hand out.

You look at the badge connected to a lanyard that’s dangling from his hand. You reach forward and grab the lanyard. You look down at the badge. It has a photo of you in the middle - a very geek looking photo of you from your first time working as Tony’s intern. Tony made you take a picture with him to celebrate the new experience. It seems like he cropped himself out of the picture so he could use it as your badge photo. The badge also contains your name across the bottom and directly under your name, it says: ‘Tony’s Favorite Intern’.

“You’ll need that to get into the building,” Happy informs you. “Make sure to take good care of it, because I am not getting you a replacement.”

“Yes, sir,” You say with a small nod. “Thanks for the ride,” You say, pulling the lanyard over your head and letting the badge dangle from your neck.

“It’s not like I had a choice,” Happy grumbles out.

You open your mouth to say something, but you weren’t expecting his honest reply. You shut your mouth and smile one last time before walking to the entrance of the Avengers Tower.

You walk up to the door and notice the keycard scanner next to the door. You lean forward and hold your badge to the scanner. It quietly beeps as the door unlocks. You pull the door open and step into the tower, the door closing behind you.

You look around the interior in awe and you feel your nerves starting to set in. You tug on the strap of your backpack, slowly walking a little further into the tower.

“Y/N Y/L/N we’ve been expecting you.”

You jump at the sudden voice. Your eyes scan the surrounding area, but you don’t see anyone. “Hello?” You ask, keeping your voice quiet.

“Mr. Stark is waiting for you in his lab.”

You let your eyes scan the surrounding area again, making sure you didn’t miss someone.

“Who… Who’s talking to me?” You ask, tugging at the straps of your backpack.

“I’m JARVIS. I’m an AI that Tony created. If you step into the elevator on your left, I’ll send you to Tony’s lab.”

You hear a ding and look to your left. You watch as elevator doors slide open. “Okay,” You say. You walk over to the elevator and step inside. The doors immediately close behind you and you spin around. The elevator starts to move and you tap your foot nervously against the tiled floor.

The elevator slowly comes to a stop and the doors slide open. You slowly step out of the elevator and find yourself in Tony’s lab. Your eyes immediately go to the wall of IronMan suits he has along the back of the lab.

“Tony?” You call out for your boss, slowly moving further into the lab.

You hear a loud crash come from the back of Tony’s lab. “Tony?” You call out again, moving towards the back of the lab.

“Who are you?”

You scream at the voice and whip around. Your eyes widen when you find yourself looking down the barrel of a gun. You scream again and immediately raise your hands into the air in surrender.

The woman on the other end of the gun stares at you, looking down the top of her gun. Her eyes glance down at your badge dangling from the lanyard around your neck. She lowers her gun and places it into the holster on her leg.

You recognize the woman as Black Widow, aka Natasha Romanoff. You’ve admired the redheaded Avenger since one of your friends showed you a video of her fighting in the streets of New York City a few years ago.

“Who died?” Tony shouts, running into the lab.

“No one. But your intern almost did,” Natasha says, nodding her head in your direction.

Tony looks at Natasha and then over at you. You notice that he’s holding two cups of coffee - one in each hand. He hands one over to you.

You reach forward with a shaky hand, still unsure as to why a fucking gun was pointed at you, and grab the cup. You give Tony an appreciative nod, not sure if you trust your voice yet.

Tony watches as the coffee cup shakes in your hand and he looks back up at Natasha. “What the hell did you do to my intern?”

“I pointed my gun at her,” Natasha says casually with a shrug of her shoulders.

“YOU POINTED A GUN AT HER?” Tony shouts.

Natasha snatches the coffee cup from Tony’s hand. “Yeah, I thought she was an intruder - you know how your security system acts up sometimes. But then I saw her badge.” Natasha takes a swig of Tony’s coffee. “Yuck! Is there any coffee in here or is it all creamer?” Natasha shoves the coffee cup back into Tony’s hand.

“There is coffee in here!” Tony defends his coffee. He sighs and turns to you. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Yup!” Your voice cracks.

“Sure seems like it,” Natasha smirks and a chuckle escapes her lips.

You look down at your feet, feeling your cheeks turn red in embarrassment.

“Don't make fun of my intern!” Tony scolds Natasha.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Natasha brushes Tony off.

Tony sighs. “Anyway, I do think it’s time for you to leave my lab. Y/N and I have a ton of work to get done!”

“Right,” Natasha says. “I’ll leave you two nerds to it then.” Natasha looks at you. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.” Natasha turns and leaves, stepping into the elevator.

Her emerald eyes meet your E/C eyes before the elevator doors slide shut.

“Sorry about her,” Tony apologizes, turning to you. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

Tony starts making his way to a different part of his lab and you follow him. He sets his coffee down on a nearby table, you do the same, making sure to put your cup more to the side so you can keep track of whose is whose.

“So, I’m working on this new suit,” Tony points to the multiple suit parts that are scattered around the nearby tables. “I’m going to let you finish the arm?”

“What? For real?” You ask, your eyes widening.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” Tony smiles at your excitement. He picks the multiple arm parts up and sets them on the table in front of you. “The wiring needs to be connected and then you need to connect the shell of the arm. Then last but not least, solder the armour over top. You think you can handle this while I work on the chestpiece?”

You nod. “I think so, yeah.”

“Good, I’ll be right next to you if you have any questions,” Tony says. “Let’s get to work!”

---

“I’m impressed!” Tony says, looking over the arm you put together. “This is perfect!” Tony hands the arm back to you. “Would you like to do the honor of attaching it to the suit?”

“Yes! I would love to!” You accept the arm. You walk to the almost complete Ironman suit. You attach the arm, snapping it into place and officially completing the suit.

“The last thing we need to do is program JARVIS into the suit,” Tony says, connecting one side of a wire to his computer and the other side into his new suit.

Tony steps in front of his computer and motions for you to join him. You step over and watch as Tony clicks and types away at his computer.

“Okay, so if you just…” Tony trailers off, showing you the programming. “Here, why don’t you try?” Tony suggests, stepping aside.

You step in front of the computer and start typing some of the code. There are a few times when Tony has to correct the code that you type out. You apologize for him having to correct you, but he just brushes your mistakes off, reminding you that this is a learning experience.

You spend the rest of the work day watching Tony test out his new Ironman suit. The end of the day comes quickly and you’re actually sad that your work day has come to an end.

“Alright, Y/N,” Tony says, stepping out of his suit. “Thank you for today! Maybe one of these days I’ll let you try on one of my suits!”

“That would be awesome!” You exclaim, pulling your backpack onto your shoulders.

“How did you like the change of scene?” Tony asks, leading you to the elevator.

“It was good! It’s so cool here!” You say, stepping into the elevator after Tony. “As long as I don’t get any more guns pointed at me, I think I'll be fine!” You say with a laugh.

“I can’t promise that won’t happen again,” Tony says, laughing along with you. “But I can make sure Natasha doesn’t do it again.”

“That’s good to keep in mind,” You say.

When you and Tony step out of the elevator, he leads you to the front of the Avengers Tower - the same place Happy dropped you off. Tony waits with you as Happy goes to pull the car around.

“So, what if we ran the power of the suit through here instead,” You suggest, pointing to your drawing of an Ironman suit in your notebook.

“That’s a good idea,” Tony says, scratching his beard as he looks at your drawing.

“Hypothetically, it should allow you to push more energy out of the suit with your beams,” You say. “This is just an idea, but I could work.”

“We’ll have to work on that,” Tony says. “Good job, kid,” Tony says, patting you on the back.

“I’m not interrupting geek talk, am I?”

You and Tony turn around.

“Actually, Natasha, you ar-”

“I just wanted to apologize for pointing my gun at you,” Natasha says, cutting Tony off.

“Ah, it's not a big deal,” You brush off with a dismissive wave of your hand.

“You reacted way differently earlier,” Natasha says with a smirk.

A car screeches to a stop next to you, pulling your attention away from the redhead.

“Happy, what did I tell you about stopping the car like that?” Tony asks.

“Sorry, Tony,” Happy says. “It won’t happen again.”

“Get Y/N home safe,” Tony says. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tony says before turning and walking back into the tower.

“Come on, kid,” Happy says, opening the car door for you.

You glance at Natasha, who’s still smirking at you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, geek,” Natasha says.

“See you tomorrow,” You say, giving the redhead a small smile.

“Kid, let’s go,” Happy says, annoyance lacing his voice.

“Sorry,” You apologize, sliding your backpack off of your shoulders and getting into the car.

Happy gets back into the car. You watch Natasha through the car window as Happy speeds off.

---

It’s been a week since you’ve been working at the Avengers Tower. Your days were the same - go to school, wait outside your campus for Happy, and work with Tony at the tower.

Today already seemed different. You’ve been waiting thirty minutes for Happy to come pick you up. You pull your coat tighter against your body. You pull your phone out of your pocket and check the time.

“Shit,” You curse. “Come on, Happy, where are you? I’m going to be late!”

You look around, not seeing Happy’s car anywhere in sight.

“Fuck it,” You curse, shoving your phone back into your pocket.

You start heading in the direction of the Avengers Tower, wanting to make it to work in time.

You walk fast, gripping the straps of your backpack. You thank yourself for remembering to bring your gloves today. You watch as snowflakes start to fall around you. You pick your pace up a little, not wanting to get stuck in the snow.

“Leave me alone!” You hear the shout from nearby.

You peek your head around the corner of an alleyway. You see two men cornering a girl.

“Just give us your shit and we’ll leave you alone,” One of the men says.

“Please, I don’t have anything!”

“Hey!” You shout, rounding the corner of the alley and stepping into it.

The two men whip around and look at you.

“Who the hell are you?” One of the men asks.

The girl from behind them runs past them and runs past you, leaving the alleyway.

“Shit! You let her get away!” One man says to the other.

“Well, we’ve got a replacement,” The other man says, pointing to you.

“Give us your backpack,” One of them demands.

“What? No!” You say.

The men walk closer to you.

“What’s in there?”

“None of your business!” You say.

“Grab her!”

Both of the men continue to walk closer to you. One of them reaches for you. “Leave me alone!” You say, throwing a punch at the man reaching for you.

Your first connects with the side of his face, but it doesn’t seem to affect him that much.  

“Awe princess, that was a weak punch!”

The man punches you back. His fist connects with your nose and it knocks you to the ground. You land on your hands and knees. You gasp when you hear the crack of your nose. “Fuck,” You mutter, watching as your blood spills from your nose and seeps into the white snow below you.

You feel a tug at your backpack. You quickly roll onto your back and kick up at the man trying to grab your backpack. He stumbles back and you quickly stand up.

“You want round two, princess?” The man asks.

“We can take you easily,” The other man says.

You throw a punch at one of the men. He catches your fist and smiles at you. He punches you with his free hand. The men take turns punching you.

Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch.

You can’t even find time to catch your breath between their punches.

One final punch to the side of your face knocks you onto the ground. You lay in the snow, looking up at the sky.

The men stand above you and smirk down at you. “Flip her over so I can grab her backpack.”

The man flips you onto your stomach, and peels your backpack from your shoulders.

“No,” You say weakly.

You hear the zipper of your backpack.

“It's just a ton of junk!” One of the men says.

You hear the rustling of all your notebooks and papers.

“I’m dumping this useless shit!”

You watch as your notebooks and papers land right next to your face. Your backpack lands on top of them.

“What a waste!”

You watch as the men leave the alleyway, leaving you by yourself.

You roll over onto your back, wincing at the pain. You look up, watching the snow fall from the sky. You gasp, trying your best to catch your breath from the punches.

“F..Fuck,” You stutter out, the coldness of the snow your laying in taking a toll on you.

You push yourself into a sitting position. You reach over and grab your backpack. You grab the pile of notebooks and papers and shove them into the backpack.

You stand up and pull your backpack onto your shoulders. You shiver as the wind blows and hits your wet clothes. You pull your arms against your body, hugging yourself for warmth.

“Not too much further,” You say, stepping out of the alleyway and seeing the Avengers Tower in the distance.

---

You stumble into the Avengers Tower.

“Mr. Stark, Y/N has arrived,” JARVIS announces.

Within seconds, Tony is running into the room. “Y/N! You could’ve at least called to say you were going to be la-” Tony pauses when he sees your face. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I… I,” You stutter, shivering.

“Hey, geek,” Natasha walks into the room. “What the fuck?”

“He...hey,” You reply, wrapping your arms around yourself to try and get warm.

Natasha immediately moves to you. She places the back of her hand to your forehead. “You’re freezing cold. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and into a warm shower.”

Natasha gently grabs you by your shoulder and starts leading you through the Avengers Tower. After a few minutes of walking through the tower, Natasha leads you into a bedroom. She leads you through the room and into a connecting bathroom.

You stand in the middle of the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror. You look rough.

Natasha moves to stand in front of you, blocking your view of yourself. She sets some clothes on the counter. “Let’s take your backpack off,” Natasha says softly, gently moving her hands to the straps of your backpack. She slides the bag off of your shoulders and sets it on the bathroom counter.

“My stuff,” You point to your bag. “It’s all wet.”

Natasha looks at your backpack and then back at you. “So, are you, we need to warm you up, and then we can worry about that, okay?” You glance at your backpack and then back at Natasha. “Okay,” You whisper.

“Go ahead and take your coat off,” Natasha instructs softly.

You shrug your coat off, the wetness of the coat making it heavy. Natasha grabs the coat from you and sets it on the counter.

“Why don’t you hop in the shower and get warmed up,” Natasha says. “I’ll be right out here if you need anything,” Natasha points to the connecting bedroom. “I brought you some clothes and a towel. And when you’re done, I’ll clean you up, okay?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

Natasha exits the bathroom, closing the door behind her. You move to the shower, and turn the handle to the hot side.

You move your hands to the bottom of your hoodie and you pull it over your head. You drop the hoodie to the floor. You move your hands to the bottom of your tshirt and pull it over your head - damn the New York weather really called for layers and right now, you’re really hating it, you just want to take a warm shower. You drop your shirt to the floor. You slip out of your vans and kick your jeans off. You strip off your underwear and your bra, adding them both to the pile of clothes beneath you.

You move to the shower, where there is now steam emitting from the water. You step into the shower and you feel your muscles immediately relax. You watch as your blood runs down the drain below you. You stand under the water, letting it run down your body and warm you up. After a few minutes, you finally feel warm. You shut the shower off and step out. You grab the towel and wrap in around yourself.

You quickly dry yourself off with the towel before pulling on the clothes that Natasha left for you. You’re in a pair of black sweatpants and a navy blue hoodie.

You open the door and poke your head into the bedroom. Natasha is sitting on the edge of her bed. She looks up when you open the door.

“Ready for me to clean your cuts?” Natasha asks, standing up.

“Yeah,” You say with a nod.

“Come sit,” Natasha points at her bed.

You move into the bedroom and sit down on the bed.

Natasha moves to the bathroom. She returns to the bedroom with a first aid kit. She sits next to you, facing you. You move to copy her position so she has better access to your face.

Now that your adrenaline has faded, you’re definitely starting to feel the pain of all the cuts, bruises and your broken nose.

Natasha is quick to clean your cuts up, wiping them with an alcohol wipe and cleaning up any remaining blood that didn’t come off in the shower.

“Why don’t you rest,” Natasha says, standing from the bed.

“I.. I have to work,” You say, “That’s why I’m here in the first place.”

“I don’t think Tony will mind,” Natasha informs.

“Okay,” You nod.

Natasha pulls the covers back and you slide underneath them. Natasha pulls the covers back up to cover you.

“Get some sleep,” Natasha says. “I’ll be here when you wake up, geek.”

You smile at the use of your nickname. You suddenly feel the exhaustion from your events of the day. Your eyes feel heavy and you give in, closing them. You’re asleep within seconds.

---

Your eyes flutter open. You look around and quickly sit up. This isn’t your room. This is quite the opposite of your room. While your room has cork boards full of papers with ideas, and sticky notes hung all around your room and is overall just a mess of papers, this one is nice and tidy.

You pull the covers off of you and move to sit on the edge of the bed. You stand up and move to the bathroom. You peek in, looking for your backpack and your clothes. But they aren’t where you left them.

You turn around and step back into the bedroom. You notice your phone on the bedside table. You pick it up and shove it into your pocket. You walk to the door and open it. You step out into the hallway carefully. You look to the left and then to the right, not sure where to go.

You stuff your hands into the pockets of the sweatpants and decide to walk to the left.

“Y/N! Hey!”

You turn around, seeing Natasha running towards you.

“Hey, sorry,” You say. “I was trying to find you.”

“Oh, no big deal,” Natasha says. “JARVIS notified me that you left my room, so I ran down here.” Natasha smiles at you. “Come on, this way,” Natasha says, turning around.

You turn around and you and Natasha fall into step.

“Tony is impressed with your work,” Natasha says, as the two of you step into the elevator.

“What work?” You ask.

“You mentioned the stuff in your backpack got wet,” Natasha says. “So, we took it out to try and get it to dry. Tony took a look at some of your ideas and creation ideas.”

“Oh,” You look down at your feet embarrassed. Your creation ideas were definitely things that would be hard or nearly impossible to do, especially with the equipment you have access to.

“I think he might ask to work on some of those with you,” Natasha says. “The two of you are geeks,” Natasha says, gently bumping her shoulder with yours.

You smile at Natasha. “Yeah, I think you’ve mentioned that once or twice.”

The elevator doors open and you and Natasha step into Tony’s lab. Natasha sits at one of the tables and you sit down next to her.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” Tony says, stepping into view.

“Thanks,” You say.

“So, what happened?” Tony asks, setting down his wrench on the table and sitting across from you.

“I was waiting for Happy to pick me up,” You say. “And he never showed, so I-”

“Wait,” Tony interrupts. “Happy never showed?”

“No,” You say, shaking your head. “So, I started walking, and there were these guys harassing a girl in an alleyway,” You tap your fingers on your thighs. “I stepped in to help and, well, this happened,” You point at your face.

“I had an idea,” Natasha says.

“What’s that?” You ask.

Tony looks at Natasha, also curious about Natasha’s idea.

“If you’re up for it, I could teach you some fighting techniques. That way, you never end up in a situation like today.”

“That would be helpful,” You say. “I’ve never really fought before,” You admit.

“I think that’s a brilliant idea!” Tony says.

“It’s settled then,” Natasha says, smiling at you.

“We can split your time here,” Tony suggests. “You can help me down here for half of your work day and spend the other half with Natasha.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” You say with a smile.

“Now, I’ll call Happy to come pick you up and take you home. You’ve had a rough day,” Tony says. “We’ll pick up tomorrow. I have a lot to talk to you about.”

“Don’t worry about calling Happy,” Natasha says. “I’ll take Y/N home.”

“I can just walk home,” You say.

“No!” Natasha and Tony say at the same time.

“Are you sure, Natasha?” Tony asks.

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” Natasha says.”Plus, it seems like Happy isn’t reliable anymore.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to call him and see what happened,” Tony says.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Natasha says.

“Don’t forget this,” Tony says, tossing you your backpack.

You catch the bag. “Thanks.” You pull your backpack onto your shoulders.

You and Natasha step into the elevator. “I have your clothes in the dryer, but you can just grab them tomorrow when you come over,” Natasha says. “If that’s okay, anyway?”

“That’s fine,” You say with a nod. “Thank you.”

Natasha steps out of the elevator and you follow her. She leads you to a garage.

“So, which car is yours?” You ask, looking at all of the sports cars.

“These are all Tony’s,” Natasha says, pointing at all the sports cars. “This right there, this is mine,” Natasha says, placing her hand on the motorcycle.

“Oh, no, definitely not,” You say, taking a step back from the vehicle.

“Oh come on, geek!” Natasha says, taking the helmet off of the seat.

“I am not getting on that!” You say.

“I’ll drive safe, I promise,” Natasha says.

You sigh. “Fine,” You say.

“Here, this is to protect that pretty face of yours,” Natasha says, holding the helmet out for you.

You take the helmet. “What about you?” You ask, not seeing another helmet.

“I’ll be fine,” Natasha says, getting onto the motorcycle.

You pull the helmet over your head.

“You somehow look geekier than normal,” Natasha says, looking at you.

You chuckle. “I’m taking that as a compliment. “You should,” Natasha says with a chuckle. “Now get on!”

You get on the motorcycle and wrap your arms around Natasha’s waist.

“Ready?” Natasha asks.

“No,” You say. “But I don’t really have a choice.”

“You’re right, you don’t,” Natasha says, revving the engine.

Natasha takes off.

---

After about fifteen minutes of you shouting the directions to your apartment at Natasha, you arrive. She pulls in front of the building.

You get off of the motorcycle and pull the helmet off. “Thanks for the ride,” You say with a smile.

“Anytime,” Natasha says. “And I mean it. If you need a ride, call me,” Natasha says. “Give me your phone.”

You pull your phone out of your pocket and hand it to Natasha. She quickly types her number in.

“Let me know if you need a ride, okay?”

“I will,” You say. “Now, you need this to protect your pretty face,” You say, reaching forward and sliding the helmet onto Natasha’s head.

“Thanks, geek,” Natasha says. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Bye, Nat,” You say.

Natasha speeds off.

---

Taglist: @peggycarter-steverogers @womenlovingwomen-imagines @b-5by5 @natasha-danvers @crispykidcookiebasketball @kaitlynroseb @millennial-teenybopper @diaryoflife @haughtlikehell @feescher @marvelwomen-simp @d14n4ol @lilclownx @ymzki-haruki @feescher @hi-i-1 @tbpandtswiftfan @claudiaatje @midnight-lestrange @jellyfishbeansontoast @peabrain112 @supersourlemon13 @madamevirgo @fazebaconneggs @mcytpogmoment @xxromanoffxx @blurryylines @ilovemarvelwomen @natashaandwandaswife @midnight-is-lost @strangegardentaco @bubblegum18 @suki-is-a-queen

[nastybuckybarnes]

Training Wheels  -  One

Pairing: Dark!Step-Brother!Steve Rogers X Innocent!Reader

Summary: Your stepbrother would do anything for you. And he’s more than happy to prove that over and over and over again until you believe him. No matter what it takes. 

Warnings: Language, Sexual Harassment, Smut, Manipulation, Loss of Virginity, Sex between Step-siblings, bit of a size kink, 

Word Count: 3.7K

A/n: I have many parts of this planned but not written, and the taglist is open. Also, incase y’all forgot: I don’t talk politics on my blog. I’ve made it clear where I stand on certain things already and I want to keep my blog as an escape from reality for myself and others. 

A/n 2: I’m fucking tired so I’ll reply to asks and stuff probably tomorrow

!!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT! 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

~*~

“Hey, did (Y/n) get a new skirt?” At the sound of your name being mentioned, Steve snaps his head up, following his best friend’s gaze until it finally lands on you.

You’re walking across the campus courtyard towards the two of them, a smile on your face as you talk animatedly with Natasha and Wanda.

Sure enough, a new mini skirt is decorating your pretty legs. It flows with the breeze, almost getting blown up enough to see your panties.

“Jesus, that kid’s got some legs,” Bucky says, eyes roaming over your figure. Steve shoves his friend’s shoulder, giving him a hard glare.

“That’s my fucking sister you’re talking about. What would Nat think if she heard that?” Bucky rolls his eyes, grinning as his favourite redhead blows him a kiss.

“God, what I wouldn’t do to have those legs wrapped around my head.” You shudder in disgust, yelping as a hard hand comes down on your ass.

“Hey!” You exclaim, turning around and covering your butt while looking at the man.

“C’mon sweetheart. What’d you expect when you’re dressed like that?”

Steve’s on his feet, rushing over to you as you glare at your assailant.

“Maybe some fucking decency?! Leave me alone! I’m not a fucking object, dick-wad.”

“Rumlow!” Upon hearing your step-brother’s voice, Rumlow takes a step back.

“C’mon Rogers! There’s no harm in playful flirting. You of all people should know that.” Steve glares at him, his arm coming protectively over your shoulders, pulling you against his side and further away from the man.

“Yeah, but there’s shit wrong with touching people when they don’t want to be fucking touched.” Brock rolls his eyes and saunters away, shooting you a wink over his shoulder.

“I had it handled,” you grumble, walking with Steve’s arm over your shoulders towards the tree where he and Bucky were sitting.

“Yeah, really looked like it. A ‘thank you’ would be nice.” You roll your eyes and glare up at your step-brother.

“How do you expect me to defend myself if you jump in all the time?”

He shakes his head, a soft look on his face that has you dropping your guard for a moment.

“As long as I’m around, you shouldn’t have to defend yourself. That’s what I’m here for. I’m always gonna have your back, bunny. No matter what.” You smile at him, your heart warming at his words before Nat gets your attention.

You sit down next to her, Steve next to you with his arm still over your shoulders.

You and Wanda are quickly engaged in another conversation and Steve finds himself staring at you, a small smile on your face.

“You’re drooling, Steve,” Nat whispers, toes nudging his thigh. He glances over at the redhead and flips her off.

“C’mon. We should get going. I wanna beat the rush.” You nod at Steve, grabbing your bag and bidding your friends goodbye.

Bucky gives Steve a knowing look and the blond glares at his friend.

The two of you make your way to the parking lot together, him asking you about your day and you launching into a detailed description of everything you did.

As you’re heading to his car you pass by Brock and his group of friends. You quiet down immediately, slouching in on yourself.

Steve glares at the guys, his arm coming protectively around your waist as they ogle you.

You let out a big breath when you’re sitting in Steve’s car, groaning at the fact that you were harassed today.

“Why are guys stupid?” You ask, looking over at your step-brother as he starts driving.

“I wish I knew. You just gotta get lucky and find someone who’s mature and has respect for women, not a douchebag like Rumlow.” You nod, kicking your shoes off and putting your feet up on the dashboard.

“Hey, feet down.” You look over at him and stick your tongue out, keeping your feet up and wiggling your toes.

“What are you gonna do? You gonna make me?” He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and then one of his hands is on your thigh, squeezing the flesh hard and making you squirm, laughter bubbling out of you.

“Stop!” He doesn’t. If anything, it spurs him on and he tickles your thigh more.

“Feet down!” He shouts playfully, loving the sound of your laughter.

“Okay fine!” You finally pull your feet down and he smiles, fingers splaying on your bare thigh. He keeps his hand there for the rest of the drive, blood slowly moving south as he realizes what he's doing and the fact that you haven’t said anything about it.

It feels nice to have his hand on you. You hate that you like it but you do.

When you finally get home, your mom and his dad are pulling out of the driveway.

Steve rolls down his window and you unbuckle your seatbelt, climbing over his lap to stick your head out the window. Steve hits the brakes harder than intended and you fall forward, one hand bracing yourself on his thigh while your skirt flies up, your ass on full display.

“Jesus, Steve. You trying to kill me?” You ask before turning to the window.

“Where are you guys going?” You ask, confused. Your mom raises her eyebrows. “We’ve only been talking about our trip to Vegas for the past four months! We talked about it this morning too!” Realization hits you and you giggle. “Sorry! I hope you guys have fun! But not too much fun. One step-sibling is enough, I don’t need any more.” Steve’s dad laughs, shaking his head at you.

“You kids behave. Don’t throw any parties or anything. The neighbours know we’re gone so if you do anything we’ll know.”

“I don’t have enough friends to throw a party anyway. And Steve is a social outcast so you don’t need to worry about him.” Your mother gives you a look and you raise your eyebrows innocently.

“Be nice to your brother. We’ve gotta get going before we miss our flight. But I’ll talk to you when we land."

They start pulling away again and you stick your head further out the window, kneeling between Steve’s legs as he grabs your waist.

“He’s my Stepbrother!”

They drive off, your mom waving until they’re out of sight, and you sigh, climbing back into the car and looking at Steve.

His hands are still on your waist and he’s got a soft look in his eyes.

“Steve?” He hums, clenching his jaw as you shift on his lap to get comfortable, your thighs spreading as you straddle him.

“Do you think your dad’s gonna get my mom pregnant?” He groans, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

“God no. I don’t even wanna think about that but even if they... you know... my dad got a vasectomy a while ago.” You nod, hands on his shoulders as you purse your lips.

His eyes are focused so intently on them that he doesn’t notice when you open the door.

“First person inside picks dinner! Loser has to pay!” You jump out of the car and sprint inside, leaving Steve stunned and horny in his car.

~*~

The two of you sit on the couch watching movies, Steve with his arm thrown over the back of the couch.

“Hey Steve... can I ask you something?” He looks over at you, nodding and waiting for you to ask whatever’s on your mind.

“Is... do... does...” You groan, shaking your head, beyond embarrassed with yourself.

“C’mon bunny. You can ask me anything and I won’t judge you. You know that.” One of his hands comes to your knee, rubbing gently.

You nod, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Do guys actually prefer when a girl is experienced? Does it... does it matter to them?” Whatever he thought you were going to ask... it certainly wasn’t this.

He raises his eyebrows and blows a breath out through his mouth.

“Some guys, yeah. I mean, it puts a lot of pressure on them to make sure your first time is good. Which is hard cause each girl cums differently and finds different things good so it’s hard to tell. Some guys like virgins but I think a lot like it if they aren’t a girl’s first just so they don’t have to live up to whatever expectations she may have.” He’s being honest with you and you value that, but it doesn’t exactly make you feel better about your situation.

You sit up and turn to him fully, a frown on your face.

“How do I find someone who’s willing to be my first so I can get it out of the way?” He inhales deeply, trying to take advantage of the situation in a way that won’t clue you into his true intentions. He wants you, but he wants you to think that he’s just helping you.

“You’ve gotta find someone you trust to do something like that, bunny. Someone who’s gonna be gentle with you because it’s gonna hurt a bit.” You frown, scooting closer and leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Where am I supposed to find someone who’s gonna be gentle with me like that? The only guys who even look at me are gross guys like Brock and I don't want someone like him to touch me.”

He brings one hand up to your head, smoothing your hair away from your face.

“I mean... I think I could find someone who would be willing to help you out. Show you the ropes just so you’re not totally inexperienced,” he murmurs, eyes focused on you as you look up at him slowly.

“Who?” His eyes flash down to your lips then back up to your eyes and you inhale sharply, realizing what he’s implying.

He doesn’t give you a second to object before he leans down and presses his lips against yours, making you gasp. He takes advantage of your parted lips and lets his tongue explore your mouth.

It takes a moment but you give in, kissing him back. One of your hands finds his hair, fingers tangling in the blond strands.

He shifts onto his side for a moment, hand grabbing your waist and pulling you forward until you’re straddling his lap.

The ball is in your court and you know you should stop but it feels so right. It’s something so unlike anything you’ve ever felt before and you wanna see where it will go. How it’ll feel to be touched by a man.

You finally pull away, panting hard with your eyes closed.

His hands grip your hips tightly and rock you forward, making you gasp as his hard length rubs against you through the material of your sweatpants.

“Steve wait,” you murmur, head falling back as he attacks your neck with kisses.

“Lemme teach you, Bunny. I’ll take good care of you, show you how it feels to be fucked properly. Please. I don’t wanna see you getting hurt by a guy who doesn’t care about your feelings. I’ll treat you so nice, Bunny, I swear.” His sweet words and the way he feels underneath you is enough to have you nodding.

He grins, one hand wrapping around your back as he quickly flips you onto your back. You gasp, arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull you tight against him.

He grinds against you for a moment longer before slowly pressing kisses down your neck and chest. He pulls away for a moment, just long enough to tear your shirt clean off your body, your bra following soon after.

His mouth kisses your breasts, giving each nipple far more attention than you thought he would. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, lips parted and heavy breaths falling from your mouth as a new type of pleasure builds inside of you.

“You like that?” He asks, eyes dark as he gazes up at you. You nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he uses his thumb and index finger to tweak at your other nipple.

“Steve,” you whisper, arching your back and pushing your chest against his face. His kisses slowly move further down your body, lips leaving a wet trail over your stomach and past your navel.

His eyes are locked on yours as his fingers tug at the waistband of your sweatpants.

You raise your hips without hesitation, nervous but excited.

He’s your step-brother, and it’s wrong, but he’s so sweet to you. If there was one person on the planet who you trust to take your virginity and teach you about sex it’s him.

Your eyes fall closed, partly out of embarrassment as he lays between your naked legs, eyes on your centre.

He hoists your legs over his shoulders and, after making sure you’re eyes are closed, grabs your discarded panties and presses them to his nose. He takes a long inhale and groans, intoxicated by the scent of you.

He tucks them into his pocket then reaches over your hips.

His thumbs spread your folds and you want to close your legs, but he makes it impossible. His tongue darts out and licks a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit.

The sensation makes you jolt and Steve chuckles softly.

“Tell me what you like, Bunny. It won’t offend me. I wanna make you feel good.” You nod, grinding your teeth together and trying to clear the thoughts from your mind and focus on what he’s doing.

He finds your clit surprisingly easily, and you moan when he focuses his tongue on it.

“J-just like that... please...” He complies, working his tongue over the little bundle of nerves while two of his fingers slowly press into your heat.

You groan at the feeling, it being unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. His fingers fill you up more than ever, and he works them inside of you until he hits a spot that has you jolting up, right hand grabbing a handful of his hair.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, eyes screwed shut as he massages that spot inside of you.

It’s all too much, and in a few moments, you’re cumming all over his face and his fingers.

“Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Oh my god.” Steve’s eyes find your face and he nearly cums in his pants.

The look of pure pleasure on your features is something he wishes he could take a picture of.

You look so fucking pretty when you cum.

He gently works you through your orgasm, pulling away only when your thighs start trembling. You open your eyes after a few more moments only to find him seated between your legs, pink lips glistening as he sucks your nectar off of his fingers.

“Holy fuck,” you repeat, one hand coming to your chest as you slowly catch your breath.

He chuckles softly, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“C’mon. M’gonna fuck you on a bed, not on a couch.” He scoops you up in his arms and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms tightly wound around his neck as he carries you up the stairs to his bedroom.

It’s wrong. So fucking wrong, but it feels so good and you trust him so much.

You’re carefully laid on your back on his bed, the blankets cool against your hot skin. Steve kneels between your legs, hands resting on your hips while his eyes devour this image.

You bring your hands up to cover your chest, feeling nervous about being naked beneath him, but he shakes his head and gently takes your hands.

“Don’t hide from me, Bunny. You’re beautiful. Any man who gets to see you like this... is a fucking lucky one.” His eyes trace over your body, his words having lit a fire in his gut.

No other man is ever going to see you like this. He’ll make sure of that.

“C-can you take your clothes off? Please? I feel...” you trail off, embarrassed of both your nudity and your request.

“Of course, Bunny.” He leans back on his haunches and pulls his shirt over his head, giving you a glorious view of his rippling muscles.

Your stepbrother has an amazing body. That much you learned the very first time he took his shirt off to go swimming with you.

He climbs off the bed for a moment, just long enough to kick off his sweatpants and his boxers, and then he’s between your legs again.

You inhale sharply when your eyes find his cock, fear and arousal filling you.

“A-am I... do you want me to...” Your eyes don’t leave his length and he chuckles, one of his hands moving down to slowly stroke himself.

“I just want you to lay back and feel good, okay? It’s gonna hurt a bit, but you gotta relax. I’ll go slow.” You nod, hands instinctively coming to his shoulders as he scoots closer.

“If you’re really curious, I’ll teach you how to give head another day. But today is all about this.” The hot tip presses against your folds and you jump, wide eyes staring up at your step-brother.

“Now, when anyone else ever fucks you, make sure they wear a condom. But for your first time, I want you to get the full experience. It’ll feel better for you this way.” You nod, gripping his strong shoulders tightly as he leans down, hands pressing into the mattress on either side of your torso.

He slides his cock through your folds, watching intently as your eyelids drop and your mouth falls open.

“Feels nice, Bunny? Nice and warm?” You nod, a whimper falling from your lips as his cock rubs against your swollen clit.

He pulls back after a moment more to align himself, then slowly pushes his cock into you.

Your face scrunches up in pain and he stops immediately, pulling back and leaning down until his face is above your heat.

You hear him spit a moment before you feel the liquid splatter against you. He does it a few times and you feel slightly mortified.

“Don’t be shy, Bunny. I just gotta make sure you’re nice and wet. It’ll stop it from hurting as much.” You nod, keeping your eyes closed as he hovers over you again.

This time when he pushes in it doesn’t hurt nearly as much.

He pushes in slowly, his eyes focused on your face as he meets the band of resistance he was waiting for. He slowly pushes further, frowning when you wince and inhale sharply.

He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he has to.

When he’s finally bottomed out inside of you, you let out a big breath.

“Look, Bunny.” You open your eyes and follow his gaze down to where the two of you are connected, your pussy fluttering around him at the sight.

He’s fully sheathed inside of you, and your lower abdomen bulges slightly because of it.

“You’ve got all of my big cock in you. Your pretty pussy is taking me like a champ.” You stare down at where his cock disappears inside of you, a gasp falling from your lips when he pulls out a few inches, only to push it right back in.

“Once I start moving it’ll feel better. Whenever you’re ready, let me know.” You nod, closing your eyes and basking in the feeling of fulness. It’s like you’re finally getting something you didn’t know you needed.

He feels so hot and heavy inside of you, you want to keep him exactly where he is forever.

After a few more moments of adjusting to the intrusion, you open your eyes and lift one hand to cup his jaw.

His eyes snap to yours, a soft admiration clouding his beautiful blues.

You pucker your lips and he smiles, dropping his head and pressing a soft kiss to your lips while slowly starting to thrust.

His pace is slow and steady, pulling out nearly all the way then slowly pushing back in, each thrust stretching your walls further than the last.

“Fuck... you’re so fucking tight... feel so good, bunny.” Your nails dig into his shoulders as he gradually speeds up, each drag against your walls bringing you a type of pleasure you’ve only dreamed of.

“S-steve... feels... feels nice... so big...” You’re hardly making any sense but you speak anyway, toes curling as he speeds up even more.

His lips find your throat and you whine loudly, nails raking down his back.

“M’gonna go harder and faster, okay Bunny? You ready?” You nod, mouth dropping open as he hammers his hips forward, cock hitting places inside of you that make you see stars.

The noises coming from you nearly have him cumming hard, but he grinds his teeth together. He’s determined to make you cum first.

One of his hands darts between your legs, finding your clit and rubbing circles on it.

Your back arches hard, chest pressed tight against his as your eyes roll back into your head, an orgasm racing down your spine and exploding in your stomach.

Every nerve in your body is on fire, stars dance behind your eyes, and your cunt clamps down hard on Steve's cock.

The blond groans lowly, eyes squeezed shut as he falls into his own climax.

He fills you, white painting your walls and warming you from the inside.

The two of you stay like that, you trembling on the bed and Steve slowly starting to shake above you as his muscles threaten to give out.

After a moment he rolls onto his side, pulling you close to him to keep his cock locked inside of you.

His fingers trace along your spine, rubbing up and down so gently that it nearly lulls you to sleep.

“Fucking hell, bunny.” He presses his lips against your forehead, beyond satisfied with what just happened. You hum softly, nuzzling deeper against his chest.

He kicks the blankets up until they’re around his knees then pulls them up to cover the two of you.

You’re snuggled up against him, one of your legs tossed over his hip as his cock sits nice and snug inside of you.

“Thank you, Steve.” He’s quiet for a moment before hugging you tightly.

“Anything for you, Bunny.”

[lulu-zodiac]

Hidden in Plain Sight

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Jeremy Bradshaw

Tags: Early seasons Dean, pre-podcast Professor Bradshaw, denial, unresolved sexual tension, bickering, smut, gratuitous owl references, case fic

Summary: It's the fall of 2006, and a string of grisly deaths linked to local lore brings Sam and Dean to the village of Bridgewater. There, Dean finds himself working closely with the frustrating and unexpectedly compelling Professor Bradshaw.

---

Dean feels about as comfortable in old colleges as he does in churches. There’s the same sense of exclusivity, that same reverence of things Dean has spent his life stuck on wrong side of. This campus even feels a little like a church, with its old architecture and sprawling ruby ivy and slit windows like narrowed eyes. His footfalls echo heavily along the cold stone corridor, making him feel uncomfortably aware of his own existence.

The door he’s looking for is old and made of oak, nestled in an alcove near the staircase, with a small plaque on it that reads Professor J Bradshaw.

Dean pauses for a moment, then knocks abruptly, suddenly noticing his knuckles are still smudged with earth. From within, a muffled voice instructs him to enter, and he does so, wiping his hand surreptitiously against the side of his leather jacket.

The first thing that hits him is the sheer volume of books in the room; they clutter every available surface, piled high in front of the big bay window like a strange line of defense. There are stacks of loose papers everywhere too, haphazard but clearly organized, some held in place by empty coffee mugs or odd-looking artefacts. The air is bright and warm, like this room catches the sun when it’s slow and mellow in the afternoons.

The second thing that hits him is the man sitting at the desk.

He doesn’t look up at Dean’s entrance, continuing to scribble away in a leather-bound notebook with intent dexterity, seemingly utterly lost in his own thoughts. He’s not what Dean expected; surprisingly young, maybe approaching forty, with a sharp jaw and tousled hair that just brushes his broad shoulders. When Dean clears his throat awkwardly, the man finally looks up with striking blue eyes that immediately pin Dean in place.

“Yes?” his voice is inquiring and several octaves deeper than Dean would have imagined, low and gravelly. He sets down his pen, looking at Dean with piercing focus.

“Uh – hey. Professor Bradshaw?” Dean feels distinctly self-conscious.

“Who wants to know?” the man closes his notebook with a snap and stands with surprisingly fluid ease, eyes still intent on Dean as though he’s cataloguing him.

He’s wearing a faded navy-blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up, slightly crumpled shirt tails poking out at the hem, just visible.

Drawing on years of sizing people up, Dean guesses that the guy probably has no one to go home to at night. If he goes home much at all, that is; the office has a distinctly lived-in look. It’s strangely reminiscent of the makeshift home feel of the impala’s interior.

“Um – Dean. Dean Collins,” Dean answers hastily, suddenly realizing he’s spent a little too long looking. “I’m uh – a student in one of your classes,” he lies the best way he knows how: with a charming smile. “I was wondering if you’ve got a moment? I was hoping to ask you a couple of questions about your work.”

“Come in, please,” Professor Bradshaw sits back down behind his desk, and gestures for Dean to close the door. “Take a seat.”

“Thanks,” Dean shuts the door and awkwardly removes three hardback books and a small, slightly drooping fern from the only available seat in front of Professor Bradshaw’s desk.

“Sorry – let me –” Professor Bradshaw leans over the desk to relieve Dean of the books and the plant. Close up, Dean can see faint lines softening the corners of his vivid eyes, and when he breathes in, he catches a hint of peppermint and the musk of warm skin, strangely compelling. Their hands brush for a moment as Professor Bradshaw takes the items, and Dean flinches, jerking away and planting himself firmly on the chair.

“So – Dean, yes?” Professor Bradshaw settles back into his seat. He’s still looking intently at Dean, gaze startlingly blue.

Wordlessly, Dean nods. He doesn’t know why he can feel the heat creeping up his cheeks.

“You’re not in any of my classes, Dean,” Professor Bradshaw says, with a slight edge to his voice. He reaches for a half-drunk mug of tea on his desk, expression skeptical.

Dean feels his stomach drop. “Uh, yeah – I’m new, just transferred a couple weeks back,” he bluffs quickly, but it sounds weak even to his own ears. He feels strangely flustered, visible.

“No, I don’t think so,” Professor Bradshaw says, flatly. “I believe I would have noticed,” he adds, wryly, with a kind of impatient warmth in his expression that makes Dean’s cheeks flare with heat all over again. Professor Bradshaw merely swallows a mouthful of tea and sets the mug back down, still looking at Dean. “So. Who are you?”

“Alright,” Dean puts his hands up in mock-surrender, smiling wide even though he feels stupidly on edge, knocked off course. “You got me. I’m – uh – a journalist. My boss has me writing a piece on local legends, and I was hoping to pick your brains. Heard you’re the expert on all that stuff around here, and thought I might be in with a better chance of talking to you as a student instead of some annoying reporter.”

“I see,” Professor Bradshaw leans back in his chair, contemplative. A shaft of sunlight filters through the bay window behind him, illuminating a hint of tawny in his dark, untidy hair. Dust motes hang everywhere like suspended snow. “Well, luckily for you, Dean, I find that my students can be just as annoying as reporters. And I still talk to them on a daily basis.”

Dean grins a little awkwardly, “Yeah?”

“Of course, I do get paid to do that,” Professor Bradshaw adds, dryly. “But perhaps I do them a disservice. Some of them are really quite inspiring.” He pauses, raising his mug to his lips. It has an owl on it, Dean notices absently. An overly fluffy one, with a slightly threatening glare. “I daresay I can spare five minutes. What is it that I can do for you, Dean?”

“Uh, so you study the supernatural, right?” Dean asks, clumsily. His hands are sweating where they’re shoved in the pockets of his jacket. “Ghosts and demons and all that shit?”

“I study the lore and mythology of supernatural beings, and why it’s important to humans to create such stories,” Professor Bradshaw clarifies, shortly.

“Right, got it,” Dean agrees, hastily. “But you’d know a bit about the Bridgewater coven?”

“I am familiar with the legends, yes,” Professor Bradshaw replies, reaching for his mug again. There’s an ink stain on the side of his index finger, smudged deep blue. Dean fleetingly wonders if it would rub off easily if he touched it, if it would leave a ghostly imprint on his own skin.

“Yeah – uh – so there’s been quite a lot of interest in the coven recently,” Dean blusters, annoyed with himself for how stupidly flustered he feels, “You know, since those bodies were found last week? At the burial site in Bridgewater Forest that’s associated with the legend? Yeah. Well, anyway, I was – hoping you might be able to tell me a little more about the legend of the coven.”

“I don’t see what the recent tragedies could possibly have to do with the legend,” Professor Bradshaw narrows his eyes skeptically.

“Right – yeah – nothing, I’m sure,” Dean lies hastily, “But the location of the crimes has definitely raised awareness about the existence of the legend, and that’s what we really want to provide for our readers.”

“Well, certainly, I can tell you the history,” Professor Bradshaw replies, briskly, “In fact, I teach an undergrad course on witchcraft in history and my lecture this Wednesday actually covers the legend of the coven. If you want a more detailed, nuanced version, you’re more than welcome to come along then – it’s at 11am in the Milton building. But I’m happy to give you the short version now, if that would be helpful?”

“Thanks – yeah, that’d be great,” Dean says, gratefully. “On a bit of a tight schedule today.”

“Well, the local legend about the Bridgewater coven has existed for almost two hundred years,” Professor Bradshaw starts, and immediately Dean can picture him talking in front of a lecture theatre full of kids. He’s a natural, something inherently captivating about the way he speaks. “In the 1800s, this village was an important site of religious pilgrimage. However, according to the legend, the village was also home to a small coven lead by a witch named Iris. Iris’s coven was said to have lived in secrecy in the forest on the outskirts of Bridgewater for years, and not to have troubled the village people. However, by 1816, the legend claims the coven had become very hostile, specifically towards the church. There were fears the coven had begun indoctrinating – or bewitching – members of the congregation.”

Professor Bradshaw pauses, swallowing another mouthful of tea. The muscles in his throat work, drawing Dean’s attention to the way his pale blue shirt isn’t buttoned up properly. He’s filled with the sudden, inexplicable urge to button it up correctly.

“More and more people started disappearing in connection with the coven,” Professor Bradshaw continues, setting his mug back down on the desk, and Dean jerks his gaze guiltily away from the line of his throat, clenching his hands into fists inside the pockets of his leather jacket. “The rapidly diminishing congregation lived in terror. The remaining members of the church all turned against each other. Then, at the height of local hysteria, Iris is said to have murdered Blanche, the minister’s daughter, in what is portrayed in the lore as some kind of statement of the coven’s power over the church.”

“Bet that didn’t go down too well,” Dean remarks, sardonically.

“Quite,” Professor Bradshaw catches Dean’s eye, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Anyway, according to the legend, the tragedy of Blanche’s death united the warring members of the congregation. They captured Iris and entombed her alive, using her own magic against her to keep her trapped. Iris’s death broke the spell on the members of the congregation who’d been indoctrinated against their will, and peace was restored to the village. The few remaining members of the original coven fled and were never seen again.”

“Wow,” Dean raises his eyebrows, “Very love-thy-neighbor.”

Professor Bradshaw snorts, “Yes. Religious leaders in the 1800s were renowned for sitting down and resolving their problems through compassionate discussion,” he remarks, dryly.

“Okay, but what about the other versions of the legend?” Dean asks, trying to remember the things Sam had told him to ask about, but drawing a total blank. His brain feels weirdly scrambled. It’s hard to remember what happened before walking into Professor Bradshaw’s office. “The other stories about the coven I’ve come across so far all seem pretty different.”

Professor Bradshaw frowns slightly. “It’s true, there are many conflicting accounts. Which is often the case with legends, being human constructions of the past,” he regards Dean slightly disapprovingly over the rim of his owl mug, a kind of skeptical stubbornness in the set of his mouth. “It’s not about knowing which ‘to believe’ – it’s about looking at why historically people have favored one version over the other and what that tells us about them.”

“Right, yeah, but aren’t legends often based on fact?” Dean pushes.

Professor Bradshaw pauses, contemplatively, “Yes. That’s certainly true in some cases.”

“Do you think it’s the case in this one?”

“Possibly,” Professor Bradshaw replies, haltingly. His expression is serious and he hesitates for a moment before elaborating; “In fact, I’m currently writing a paper about the historical figures who feature in the legend of the Bridgewater coven.”

“Yeah? Which ones?” Dean presses. He’s used to having to fake interest to get information out of people like Professor Bradshaw, but for once, he finds he’s genuinely interested. There’s something compelling about Professor Bradshaw’s evidently obsessive quest for obscure answers, something that resonates with all too much familiarity.

“Iris, predominantly,” Professor Bradshaw replies. “I’m very interested in the historical reasons women were condemned as witches. Often, it’s as simple as jilted male lovers using accusations of witchcraft as a means of revenge, or the women using herbal remedies that threatened contemporary male ideas of medicine and the body. Sometimes it’s to do with female homosexuality and society’s unacceptance of same sex relationships or women as sexual beings. Of course, it wasn’t uncommon for gay men to be condemned for witchcraft either. But statistically, more homosexual women died as a result of such accusations.”

“Uh – right –” Dean swallows, looking away. His hands are sweating again, and he wipes them surreptitiously on the insides of his pockets. Clearing his throat, he changes the subject, suddenly remembering the other thing Sam had told him to ask Professor Bradshaw about, “What about the runes?”

“Ah yes, the runes on Iris’s supposed tomb,” Professor Bradshaw’s gaze is suddenly inscrutable in a way that makes Dean’s heart thud uncomfortably in his chest. It sweeps over Dean, lingering and unnervingly blue for a moment, before he continues, “Very interesting. I’ve been studying them a great deal as part of my research. The true nature of them has always remained a mystery, and any attempts to discern their meaning haven’t fitted with the legend at all. I believe they may be key to understanding the history behind the creation of the legend. But,” he smiles, wryly, “It’s not an easy task. They’re unlike any runes I’ve come across anywhere else before.”

“Can I see?” Dean asks, partly out of interest, and partly for some way of distracting himself from the way his heart is still thumping uncomfortably fast.

“You’d have to visit the forest burial site to see them in person, but I do have a couple of sketches of the lines I’m working on at the moment,” Professor Bradshaw gets to his feet and crosses to the cabinet by the window, pulling the top drawer open.

The fall chestnut trees outside smolder amber behind his silhouette, midday sunshine pale gold and still where it filters through the window. Time seems strangely irrelevant. Dean watches as Professor Bradshaw flicks through a green binder, fingers quick and dexterous, skilled and uncalloused in a way Dean’s have never had the chance to be.

Dean swallows and looks away, ignoring the thud of his heart as he stares around at the rest of the room. He clocks a bunch of compendiums of mythology on the bookcase nearest him, and two other eccentric and slightly neglected looking plants. There’s a thick plaid rug on the couch in the corner, not quite concealing a plate of half-eaten toast. On the windowsill, there’s a little tin mug with a toothbrush in it that makes Dean wonder again just how often Professor Bradshaw goes home at all. He finds himself wondering whether Professor Bradshaw has always had nothing but an empty house to return to, or whether that’s a more recent development. He’s definitely old enough to be going through a divorce. The thought sits uncomfortably in Dean’s chest for reasons he doesn’t particularly want to identify.

“Here we are.” Professor Bradshaw’s gravelly voice, suddenly much closer, makes Dean jump. He glances around to find Professor Bradshaw standing beside him, holding out a sheet of paper. The smell of warm skin and peppermint catches Dean off guard, stronger this time, and still strangely compelling.

“Uh – thanks,” Dean says awkwardly, taking the proffered page. He feels Professor Bradshaw’s fingers brush against his fleetingly, warm and ink-stained.

Dean swallows, forcing himself to focus on the page in front of him even though his cheeks are hot with something he doesn’t want to think about. The sketches are good, a few strange vaguely Norse reminiscent symbols drawn hastily with accompanying, scrawled notes in the margins. There’s something about the runes that niggles at Dean’s brain, familiar and unfamiliar all at once, like something he’s known his whole life but can’t put his finger on.

“These are interesting,” Dean he frowns, tracing his finger along the two last symbols.

When he glances up, he finds Professor Bradshaw looking at him intently, blue eyes inscrutable. “Yes,” he says, leaning back against the desk and folding his arms across his chest. “Those are the ones which struck me too,” he’s speaking a little quieter, low voice distracting Dean from why the runes are so familiar. He hopes he can remember them, that Sam will be able to place what he can’t about them.

“So, uh, this tomb. The one with the runes on it – that’s definitely where that guy’s body was found last week? It wasn’t just nearby or something?” Dean forces himself to ask, ignoring the way his heart is suddenly thumping again. “And the girl found the week before – she was directly linked to the burial site too?”

Professor Bradshaw clears his throat, unfolding his arms. “I believe so, yes.”

“And that doesn’t seem – I don’t know – a little strange, to you?”

“Human beings committing violent acts against each other is generally something I find a little strange,” Professor Bradshaw replies, in clipped tones. “But beyond that – no. Now –” he breaks off, glancing at his watch. “I’m afraid I have a seminar to deliver in ten minutes,” he confesses, and there’s something unfinished about the way he says it, something almost reluctant. Like he half wants to stay here talking with Dean.

“No problem,” Dean stands, and takes a last glance at the sketches before handing them back, trying to commit them to memory. “Thanks, Professor.”

Their eyes meet as Professor Bradshaw accepts the page, and the room suddenly feels very airless, a pause suspended between them. Neither of them moves away.

This close, Dean can see miniscule flecks of grey like tiny stars lost in blue of Professor Bradshaw’s eyes, the way that his full lips are slightly chapped, like maybe he worries them between his teeth when he’s thinking. They’re soft pink and warm-looking, and Dean wonders fleetingly if they taste like peppermint tea.

“It was nice meeting you, Dean,” Professor Bradshaw says, gently, and his eyes are so blue.

“Uh – yeah – you too. Thanks. I’d – uh – I’d better get going,” Dean stammers, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and cursing the way his cheeks are suddenly flaming with heat. His thoughts churn unsteadily; he ignores them the way he’s learnt to.

Still feeling strangely wound-up, he nods awkwardly at Professor Bradshaw and turns reluctantly towards the door.

“Wait a moment, Dean –” Professor Bradshaw’s voice halts Dean in his tracks as he reaches the door, and Dean turns expectantly, heat thumping a little painfully.

“Yeah?”

“Here – you’re welcome to borrow a couple of books on local history,” Professor Bradshaw is pulling a couple of books down from the overflowing cabinet by the window. “They should have a bit more about the legend of the coven that you might find interesting. Divergences of the legend and so forth. I’ll need them back by Thursday morning as I’m teaching a class on them in the afternoon, but you’re welcome to borrow them until then if they’d be helpful.”

“You sure?” Dean takes the proffered books awkwardly, and swallows the strange disappointment sinks in him like a stone as Professor Bradshaw steps back again. “Thanks.”

“As I said, I’m also giving a lecture on Wednesday where I’ll be examining the history behind the legend of the coven. I meant what I said - you’d be more than welcome to attend,” Professor Bradshaw says, sincerely. His eyes are intent, and there’s a hint of something almost like hopefulness hidden in the depths of his gravelly voice. Working on long ingrained instinct, Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Thanks, I’ll – I’ll see what my schedule’s like,” Dean replies, haltingly.

“Of course,” Professor Bradshaw agrees. He turns back to his desk.

“Can I ask –” Dean pauses, watching Professor Bradshaw stuff another notebook and a stack of handouts into his briefcase. “You said you’re writing a paper about the runes at the forest burial site– do you go to there much?”

Professor Bradshaw glances up, distractedly. “Yes, I spend time there every week.”

“So you haven’t noticed anything – I don’t know – anything unusual when you’ve been there recently?” Dean ventures.

“Unusual how?” Professor Bradshaw closes his briefcase with a snap and looks up at Dean properly, eyes narrowed with sudden skepticism. It’s stronger than the hints Dean has caught at other points during their conversation, sharp and blue, a world away from the observant warmth of a few moments ago.

“I dunno – odd noises, sudden drops in temperature, shadows –”

“Just what are you asking me?” Professor Bradshaw demands, voice clipped and defensive.

“Have you seen anything like that?” Dean presses, stubbornly. Irritation prickles his skin.

“No, I haven’t,” Professor Bradshaw says, bluntly. “And you know why? Because yes, I study the supernatural – but it’s not real, Dean. I don’t know what kind of sensational article you’re writing about local lore, but I can assure you, lore is all it is.” He winds a striped scarf haphazardly around his neck, and grabs his briefcase off the desk. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.”

-

Sam is eating some gross looking granola yoghurt pot with a plastic spoon when Dean eventually clambers back into the car, feeling distinctly frustrated.

“You took your time,” he remarks idly, raising an eyebrow as Dean adjusts the mirror with an unnecessary amount of force and turns on the ignition.

“Goddamn waste of time was what it was,” Dean mutters mutinously, pulling out of the space and then immediately being forced to hit the brakes when a cluster of students cross the parking lot in front of him. He grinds his teeth and resists the urge to honk the horn. “Thought I was getting somewhere but he completely shut down the minute I asked him if he’d noticed anything weird at the burial site.”

“Suspicious?” Sam frowns, through a mouthful of granola.

“No, don’t think so. Just really damn touchy,” Dean drums his fingers impatiently against the wheel as he waits for the students to move, “And a bit of an asshole. I dunno, suppose working in his field he’s probably used to people thinking he’s just some lunatic who believes in the supernatural.”

“And does he?”

Dean snorts. “No way. He’s got a real bee in his bonnet about it. You’d think someone who’s spent the last twenty years with their head buried in books about ghosts and covens and demonic possession might be a little more open to the idea,” he shrugs, and gives in to the temptation to lean on the horn, reveling in the brief satisfaction of making the students jump and scurry out of the way, “But no. The guy’s absolutely blind to it all, and could rival you on stubbornness.”

Sam purses his mouth in annoyance, but doesn’t rise to the bait. “Get anything useful at all?”

“He did lend me a couple books,” Dean admits, nodding in the direction of the backseat. “Have to take them back on Thursday morning, though. He needs them for some class.”

“He leant you his books?” Sam raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Dean shrugs, skin prickling in annoyance, “What of it?”

“Dunno, that’s just,” Sam swallows a mouthful of yoghurt, “Pretty trusting. Academics usually treat their books as if they’re their first borns.”

“Don’t mess them up when you read them, then,” Dean says, dismissively, as they pull out onto the main street. “You find out anything useful about the victims?”

“Not really,” Sam leans back in his seat with a sigh, “Both from middle class, religious families. Seem to have been pretty well liked by people. Hard to establish any link more than that. The wife of the guy that was killed last week seemed a bit cagey, though,” he shrugs, “Might be worth a second visit to see if she’s holding out on us about something.”

“Right,” Dean drums his fingers impatiently against the wheel as they wait for a light to change. It’s starting to drizzle, tiny flecks of grey hitting the windshield. “Are we still definitely thinking ghost?”

“Seems like it,” Sam affirms, “The way the victims died definitely points to a vengeful spirit. But the place they were killed – connected to the burial site associated with the coven? I don’t know, I was thinking maybe it’s no ordinary ghost. Maybe it’s the vengeful spirit of a witch, and that’s why it’s so powerful?”

“Hm,” Dean mulls it over, flicking the windscreen wipers on as they continue to wait. They squeak slightly, repetitive and familiar. “You could be onto something there.”

“Yeah?”

“Professor Bradshaw was telling me about the local legend of the coven. Apparently, its leader was entombed alive by a bunch of angry churchgoers,” Dean steps on the accelerator as the light finally changes, and the rain-slicked village slides past in a blur. “That’s got to be some pretty good vengeful spirit material right there. And you said the victims were both religious, right? Can’t be a coincidence.”

“Why now, though?” Sam frowns. “It’s been what – two hundred years? There must have been plenty of churchgoers who walked by the burial site before now.”

“Dunno,” Dean shrugs, staring out at the rainy smudge of fall colors. The chestnuts trees lining the street are the same smoldering hue of amber as the one outside Professor Bradshaw’s window.

They drive in silence for a few moments, wipers squeaking.

“Okay,” Sam says, at length, “So I’m thinking – we go check into a motel, get through as much of these books from your professor as we can while we wait for the rain to stop, and then check out the burial site later this afternoon before it gets dark?” Sam asks, chucking his plastic spoon in the empty yoghurt container.

“He’s not ‘my professor’,” Dean says defensively, and suddenly has to step a little too hard on the breaks to avoid running a red light.

“Alright,” Sam says, slowly. “Okay.”

“Anyway, yeah,” Dean blusters, hastily, ignoring the weight of Sam’s gaze on the side of his face, “Works for me. But first,” he flicks on the indicator and pulls into a space near a little line of local shops. “Food. Not that yoghurty shit you’ve been eating. Real food.”

-

The forest is steeped in quiet in the way all ancient places are, fall singing the leaves on the gnarled branches that claw their way towards the fading gold of the late afternoon sun. Dean breathes in the wet, cloying smell of moss and follows Sam’s careful path through the trees. There’s a chill in the air, but the handle of Dean’s blade is hot in the palm of his hand.

“How much further to this place?” he hisses at Sam’s back, swatting a frond of bracken out of his face and casting his gaze edgily through the twisting branches and burnt amber.

“Nearly there, according to –” Sam stops so abruptly that Dean nearly collides with him, throwing out a cautionary arm.

“What?” Dean whispers urgently, instantly drawing his blade. His heart is racing now, whole body tense, coiled, ready to attack. His gaze flickers rapidly through the mess of branches and he stands on his tiptoes, trying to see past Sam’s stupidly large frame. “Sammy,” he hisses, impatiently, when Sam doesn’t immediately answer, “What is it?”

“There’s something there,” Sam breathes, almost inaudible. His posture is still, alert. Dean can see Sam’s hold on the gun in his back pocket tighten.

“What kind of something?” Dean whispers, craning his neck to try and see. The light seems somehow dimmer already, the fading sun sliding further towards the ground. When he breathes in, the smell of wet leaves is stronger, now that they’re in the heart of the forest. His heart is thrumming so fast but everything else feels suspended in time, unnaturally still.

“I think it’s a person,” Sam murmurs, and somewhere close, Dean hears the brittle rustle of dead leaves, loud and unnerving in the wooded quiet. He watches the quickened rise and fall of Sam’s shoulders as his breathing suddenly sharpens. “They’re holding something. They – shit, Dean, they’re coming this way.”

Dean reacts immediately and on nearly twenty years of protective instinct; he shoves Sam out of the way and stumbles out into the clearing, blade brandished in front of him.

---

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Sakamaki Prologue

← RETURN TO GENERAL PROLOGUE

ー The scene starts in the classroom

Yui: ...I’m going home by car today.

Female student C: I see. Well, we might be getting some bad weather, so that is probably a wise choice.

Yui: Eh? Really?

Female student C: Yeah. They said so on the weather forecast. I’ll be heading home then. Bye bye!

Yui: See you tomorrow! Bye bye!

ー The scene shifts to the outside of Ryoutei Academy

Yui: ( Speaking of which, Ayato-kun didn’t attend classes today. )

( We both went to school together, so I wonder if he was skipping class somewhere? )

( He should know he’ll be in big trouble if Reiji-san finds out though... )

Driver: ーー My apologies for the wait.

Yui: Thank you very much.

ー She gets inside the car

*Thud*

Yui: I’m the first one here. That’s neーー

Ayato: Yo, Chichinashi!

Yui: Ayato-kun! I haven’t seen you around all day, where have you been?

Ayato: Aah? That’s none of your business, is it?

Yui: That’s true but...

Laito: ーー If you’re curious about Ayato-kun’s whereabouts, I spotted him over at the infirmary...Sleeping soundly with a cute expression on his face. Nfu~

Ayato: Wha...!? Cute!? Stop spoutin’ disgustin’ crap!

Laito: Eeh~? I’m complimenting you, so you should just honestly thank me.

Yui: And where did you hang out instead of attending class, Laito-kun?

Laito: Bitch-chan, you want to know my secrets? If you insist, I suppose I could tell you...

Every・single・one, okay~? (1)

Yui: No, I’ll pass.

Laito: Geez! I wish you wouldn’t turn down my offer so quickly?

Kanato: What made you think she would be curious about your secrets? I wouldn’t want to hear about those even if I was forced to.

Yui: Kanato-kun!

Laito: Kanato-kun, how cruel! You don’t have to be so mean, do you?

Kanato: Being forced to listen to something you don’t want to hear is pure torture after all...

That being said, Laito. The space next to her. That’s my seat so could you make some room?

You move away a little further too, Ayato.

Ayato: In your dreams! (2) The seat next to Chichinashi is obviously mine!

Kanato: Haah?

Shuu: ...Noisy as always. I could hear you guys’ voices all the way from outside the car...

Yui: Shuu-san...!

Laito: Oh geez~ You’re acting as if you’re the only outsider.

Shuu: I’m not picky about which seat I take after all.

I understand why you’d want to sit close to her, but making too much of a fuss proves that you’re all still kids.

Ayato: Aah!? Who are ya callin’ a kid!?

Reiji: ...Good grief. You lot are at it again?

Laito: Nfu~ Nice observation, Reiji. I can’t believe you’d guess we’re quarreling.

Reiji: This happens every day after all. How ridiculous. Do you not think it is about time you fight over a different topic for once?

Furthermore...Shuu. Could you not hog the seats all for yourself? You are in the way.

Shuu: There’s plenty to pick from right? Just take one of the other ones.

Reiji: If I sit on the opposite side, I will have no choice but to pain my eyes with the sight of you, no? Come on, make way.

Shuu: Haah, annoying...

Reiji: I am not being ‘annoying’. As the first heir to this family...

Subaru: Can’t you guys pipe the fuck down?...Geez...

*Thud*

Yui: Welcome back, Subaru-kun.

Subaru: Y-Yeah...

Oi, you shitheads. Move out of the way. I’m sittin’ next to her.

Kanato: Hah? You want to sit next to her as well?

Subaru: I never...! It’s not like I want to sit next to her...

I just like the way that seat feels.

Laito: Nfu~ Dare I say that’s a rather cringy excuse? Kukuku~

Subaru: Aah!?

Yui: ( Somehow seeing the guys are still the same as always makes me feel relieved. )

ー The car starts driving

Yui: ( Quite a lot has happened since I came to this house, but I’ve sort of gotten used to it over time... )

( I might just be imagining things, but I feel like the guys have become a lot kinder compared to when I first met them as well. )

( I guess feelings really do change... )

Reiji: ーー Speaking of which, did you all hear?

Ayato: What?

Reiji: Apparently there will be two transfer students coming from the campus in Great Britain.

Yui: Yes, now that you mention it, our teacher said something about that.

Subaru: Props to those guys for goin’ through the extra trouble.

Laito: Do you know something about them?

Reiji: No, not really.

Laito: Then why would you bring that up?

Reiji: It’s simple idle talk. The silence was getting on my nerves.

*CRASH*

Yui: ...!

Kanato: That was the thunder.

Ayato: It started pourin’ as well. What a dragー

Yui: ...The sky is pitch black as well...

Shuu: I mean, it’s night-time after all, so obviously it’d be? What are you saying?

Yui: That’s true but the moon was out earlier so...

Ah, speaking of which, the lunar eclipse will be happening soon, right?

Subaru: The eclipse?

Yui: Yeah.

Reiji: Exactly. I actually wanted to give you all a warning regarding said topic.

Laito: Eh~? What is it~?

Reiji: As you should be well aware, we are not unaffected by the lunar eclipse.

Yui: Eh? Is that so?

Reiji: Well, I doubt there will be any large changes.

We might say or do some things which are out of the ordinary...As well as grow somewhat unstable.

Yui: I see...

Ayato: Oh? Are you worried, Chichinashi?

Yui: Just a little.

Shuu: ーー During last time’s lunar eclipse, the Old Man was so fussy about it, I thought I was gonna go crazy.

Laito: ...Ahー ...I just remembered. We were still living in the Demon World back then, weren’t we?

Kanato: The night is much longer over there, so it was the worst...

Ayato: I remembered. He locked us up inside the castle, didn’t he?

I wonder why that old fart was so wary of it?

Kanato: I picked up some things about that. Apparently...There is a possibility some evildoers could come and attack us...

Yui: Evildoers...?

Ayato: Yeah! You know! He means the bad guys!

Laito: Do you want us to applaud you for that answer? (3)

Reiji: Either way, please be even more cautious than usual, understood? 

Unlike the one in the Demon World, the eclipse will be over in just a few hours this time. I am sure you can at least endure it for that long?

Yui: ( Out of the ordinary...Will everything be okay? I’ve gotten a little worried. )

Laito: Nfufu...

Subaru: The fuck you chucklin’ for, Laito...? It gives me the creeps.

Laito: I figured out what’s on Bitch-chan’s mind~

Yui: Eh...?

Laito: You were wondering just now...What exactly he meant with ‘saying or doing things out of the ordinary’, no?

Yui: ...!

Laito: I figured it out by looking at your expression. You really are such a lewd girl~

Yui: Wha...!? Why does it translate to that!?

Laito: You want to experiment, don’t you? Doing all sorts of things...While we’re being toyed around with by the moon...~

I mean, it would be different from usual, right? I totally relate to you wanting to switch things up every once in a while, nfu~ 

Reiji: ...Laito. I think you’ve said enough. You are corrupting my ears.

Yui: ( The lunar eclipse, huh...? I hope it passes without anything happening. )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Yui: It’s this late already...? I suppose I should hit the hay soon.

Reiji: Oh dear? Going to bed already?

Yui: Yes. It is starting to become a little light outside as well.

Reiji: How about a cup of tea before bed? I got my hands on this new brand of herbal tea.

I would not mind treating you to some?

Yui: Ah, I’ll gladly have some!

Reiji: Very well. Then please wait a few.

ー Reiji walks away as Ayato enters the living room

Ayato: Oh, who do we have here! Not goin’ to bed yet?

Yui: Reiji-san offered me some tea, so I’ll get some rest after I’ve finished my drink.

Ayato: Che...What’s so good ‘bout that crap which tastes of grass?

Yui: Grass...? No way, it’s delicious. 

Ayato: That’s what it tastes like to me. I’m a carnivore (4) rather than a herbivore after all! ...This stuff’s more my ‘cup of tea’. 

ー Ayato moves closer and pins her down

*Thud*

Yui: W-Wait, Ayato-kun! What are you...!? 

Ayato: Lemme suck you. I’m thirsty for blood right now...

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( ...At this rate, he’ll take my blood...! )

R-Right! Ayato-kun, did you know?

*Rustle*

Ayato: Aah!? 

Yui: ーー S-Speaking of carnivores, I heard this rumor about a wolf being spotted in the city...

Ayato: A wolf!?

Yui: Y-Yeah. Apparently tons of people witnessed it, so the rumors are spreading like wildfire...

Ayato: Che. What bullshit are you spoutin’? You actually believe there was a wolf!?

Yui: But you know, at school...I alsoーー

Laito: Spotted~ (5)

Yui: L-Laito-kun!

Ayato: ...Laito, don’t get in my way.

Laito: Oh no no. If you want to suck Bitch-chan’s blood, you have to get my permission first.

Ayato: Why do I have to get your permission for everythin’, huh!?

Laito: Ehー? Why, you ask? Well...

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah!?

Laito: Because Bitch-chan belongs to me~ Right?

Say, Bitch-chan? Wasn’t this ‘wolf’ you saw wearing a hat?

Yui: Eh!? 

Laito: The Big Bad Wolf wearing a hat always has his vision locked on the cute Little Red Riding Hood, you know~?

Ayato: Keh. ‘Big Bad Wolf’, my ass! Anyway, Chichinashi. Did you seriously see a wolf?

Yui: Y-Yeah...Probably...

Laito: When? Where?

Yui: After classes today. On the rooftop at school...

Ayato: Aah? The rooftop? Hah, ridiculous. I bet you just mistook some shadow for a wolf.

Laito: Besides, that’s exactly where I was after classes today.

Reiji: ーー Why were you there after school?

Laito: ...! R-Reiji. Didn’t see you there.

Reiji: Yes. I sure am. Is that a problem for you?

Laito: Not really~?

Reiji: Good grief. With you guys, I never know what to expect the second I take my eyes off you.

You’re either trying to suck her blood, or skipping class...

Ayato: ...! H-How do you know I tried to bite her just now!? You weren’t around earlier, were you!?

Reiji: ーー It became clear as day to me the second I saw her disheveled clothes.

Yui: Eh...! Ah...

*Rustle rustle*

Reiji: You lot truly are beyond hopeless.

ーー Here you go, Yui. I’ve prepared your tea.

Yui: T-Thank you very much!

*Cling*

Reiji: ...Well then, regarding what you said just now...

Yui: Eh?

Reiji: Could you fill me in on the details?

Yui: You mean about the wolf?

Laito: It was just Bitch-chan’s eyes playing tricks on her, no?

Isn’t it like those people who say they can ‘sense’ ghosts after they’ve been told a place is haunted? 

Reiji: I am talking to her.

Yui: U-Uhm...

ー Yui tells him the full story

Reiji: I see.

Yui: However, I’m pretty sure I just saw a wild dog or something along those lines...

Subaru: ...What would a wild dog be doin’ up on the roof? That was a wolf.

Yui: Subaru-kun...?

Subaru: You probably don’t know, but in the Demon World, there are other demonic species who can alter their appearance into those of a snake, eagle or wolf.

We’re livin’ here too, so it wouldn’t be that far-fetched for some wolf to show up.

Yui: T-Then, a resident of the Demon World has changed into a wolf and come to this city?

Subaru: Guess so? There aren’t any wild wolves livin’ ‘round these parts, right?

Reiji: I considered that possibility for a second too, however...

Ayato: What?

Reiji: The Wolf clan living in the Demon World is extremely territorial. Well, the same could be said about the snakes too...

I simply cannot fathom they would come to the human world.

Laito: Ahー ...Now that you mention it, they really are.

I went through hell and back once after messing around with a girl on Wolf territory...

Subaru: ...Then how do you explain the wolf wanderin’ ‘round this city!?

*Thud*

Yui: S-Subaru-kun, calm down.

Reiji: Exactly. Do you really need to lose your temper over everything?

Ayato: Can’t we look at it this way? It’s probably not that concerned ‘bout us.

Vampires aren’t territorial after all.

Reiji: That might be the case for us, but I doubt the same can be said about them.

It is part of their natural instinct after all...

Laito: Nfu~ Then, basically you want to say that the wolf which has been sighted in the city is just a regular one?

Reiji: Or rather, there is one other possibility I can think of.

Yui: Another possibility...?

Reiji: In the Demon World, one more species going by the name of the ‘First Bloods’ exists.

They are said to be the ancestors of every species living in the Demon World.

Ayato: The fuck? That’s a first to me. Besides, I’ve never run into one of those over at the Demon World either.

Reiji: Of course not. They suffered defeat in a war against our Father and Demon Lord Burai, before being banished to a castle.

They are forbidden from leaving.

Laito: Then wouldn’t it be impossible for them to show up here in the first place?

Reiji: You are indeed right. But well, they possess the abilities of the wolf, eagle, snake and bat all at once. 

Therefore, it would be possible for them to transform into wolves as well. I simply wanted to bring it up as one possible explanation.

Subaru: Well, I don’t give a damn. Whether it’s a Wolf or a First Blood.

If they get in the way, I’m gonna crush them!

Reiji: Well, a wolf is hardly a threat to us, but I suppose it would be dangerous for a human such as yourself.

Please be careful, okay? If things take a turn for the worse, do avoid being eaten. Understood?

Yui: Y-Yes...

( Seems like there’s still many things about the Demon World I don’t know. )

( Also the rumored wolf in town...I wonder if he actually exists? Then what I saw might just be... )

( ...I don’t really know yet, but I should definitely be careful for now. )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the classroom

Yui: ( Today’s first period is English, huh...? I should take out my textbook and notes...My homework sheet isーー )

*Rattle*

Homeroom teacher: Oiー. Everyone, sit down. I’m going to introduce the new transfer student.

He won’t be transferring into this classroom, but I’ll at least let him introduce himself.

Shin: ...I’m Tsukinami Shin. Nice to meet y’all.

Ayato: ...That guy...

Yui: ( Ayato-kun...? )

Homeroom teacher: He only recently returned to the country after living in Great Britain, so he’ll be taking class in a special classroom for quite some time.

That being said, you’re all students of the same academy, so treat him well, okay?

Homeroom teacher: Ahー Also...If possible, I’d like for someone to show him around the campus.

Shin: Sensei, may I?

Homeroom teacher: Yes, what is it?

Shin: I would like to ask the young lady over there to give me a tour of the school.

Yui: Eh? M-Me?

Shin: Exactly. Can I count on you?

Yui: ...I don’t mind but...

Shin: We’ll see each other during the break then?

ー He leaves the classroom

Yui: ( ...Why me? )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the hallway at school

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi.

Yui: Ayato-kun? And Kanato-kun as well? ...What’s wrong?

Kanato: No, I simply had...somewhat of a weird hunch...

Yui: A weird hunch...?

( Could they be talking about Shin-kun? )

Ayato: You’re gonna show that dude ‘round the place now?

Yui: Yeah, that’s the plan.

Kanato: Do you truly believe you have the right to decide that?

Yui: ( I-I should have figured they’d be upset about that. )

B-But he asked me out of the blue...and the teacher also told us to be nice to him...

Ayato: ...I know that, but still.

Listen up. Be careful of that dude. ...I can’t really put it into words, but he’s givin’ me bad vibes.

Yui: Eh?

Kanato: ...I shall warn you as well. Although I believe it would be best for me to tag along.

For some reason, I feel like I want to keep my distance from him...

Yui: You too, Kanato-kun...?

( I wonder why the two of them are so wary? )

Ayato: Well, we’re ‘round as long as you stay on campus, so it should be fine.

Don’t let your guard down, ‘kay? Understood?

Yui: Y-Yeah.

Kanato: Ah...He has arrived. Well then...

ー Ayato and Kanato leave

Yui: ( ...I wonder what he meant with ‘bad vibes’? )

Shin: Hey, thanks for earlier.

Yui: Yeah. Well then, let me show you around right away...

Shin: I don’t need to see the campus. Instead, why don’t we drop by the rooftop?

Yui: Eh? The roof...? I don’t mind but...Why...?

Shin: ...I figured you might want to witness the lunar eclipse.

Yui: Aah, now that you mention it...

Shin: Also, the inside of this school really reeks (6) for some reason...

Yui: Eh?

Shin: Nothing. Let’s hurry up and go.

Yui: Yeah...

ー The two of them walk away

Shuu: ...

ー The scene shifts to the rooftop

Shin: Aah, the eclipse has begun.

Yui: You’re right...!

( The moon’s colored a bright crimson...slowly becoming chipped, amazing! )

Shin: Is this your first time witnessing one?

Yui: Yeah. It’s a first for me...How beautiful, don’t you think?

Shin: Beautiful, huh?

ー Somebody walks up to them

???: ...Shin.

Shin: Hey, Nii-san.

Yui: Eh?

Shin: Let me introduce him. This is my Nii-san, his name’s...

Carla: I’m Tsukinami Carla.

Yui: N-Nice to meet you...! My name’s Komori Yui.

( I see. Now that you mention it, when the teacher said two transfer students...He must have been talking about Shin-kun and his older brother. )

Carla: ...

Yui: ( ...That being said, he is somewhat of an intimidating individual... )

Shin: Neither of us are used to living here, so we’ll be counting on your help, okay?

Yui: Yeah...If you’re fine with me...

Carla: Shin.

Shin: Yes, Nii-san?

Carla: Take a look.

Shin: Eh?

Yui: ...Ah...!

Shuu: ...

Yui: Shuu-san?

What’s the matter? Are you perhaps here to watch the Lunar Eclipse as we...

Shuu: Haah? Does it look like that to you?

Yui: ...Right.

ー Shuu walks up to Yui

Shuu: ーー Let’s go.

Yui: Eh? M-Me?

Shuu: Yeah. Hurry up.

Yui: B-But...

Carla: I don’t mind. Go if you must.

Shin: Nii-san, are you sure?

Carla: Yes.

Yui: T-Then...See you later. Please tell me if you need anything. Now if you’d excuse me.

ー Yui leaves with Shuu

Shin: Nii-san, do you think we’ll be able to use her?

Carla: No chance.

Shin: Eh? For real? Geez. I was kind to her for nothing then...

If she won’t be of any use to us, why don’t we take her down alongside this school which stinks of Vampires...

Burning everything to the ground...Kukuku. What do you say?

Carla: While it would be impossible in her current state, if we cleanse her, she might just...

Shin: Cleansing, huh? What a drag. For one, I doubt I’ll be able to stand the stench of those Vampires.

But, if we have no other choice, guess it can’t be helped.

Carla: Get everything in order by the end of tonight. Understood?

Shin: Roger. Well, I could probably win against those Vampires while they’re weakened by the lunar eclipse using just one arm.

Carla: Do not let down your guard. That man from just now...He seemed to have caught on somewhat.

Shin: I know.

ー The scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: Wait, Shuu-san!

Shuu: ...Did those guys from earlier tell you anything?

Yui: Eh? No...nothing...

Shuu: I see.

Yui: ...What’s gotten into all of you? I feel as if you’ve been very wary of those two this whole time...

Shuu: You saw it too, right? The lunar eclipse has started.

Because of that, our intuition is off compared to usual. Reiji mentioned it yesterday as well, remember?

We may act or say things out of ordinary...And at the same time, our five senses don’t quite work as well.

Yui: ( Right...That’s why everyone is even more on guard than usual. )

I understand. I’ll be careful.

( I wonder if everything will be okay...While they’re under the eclipse’s effects? )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to inside the limousine

Yui: ( Phew, I’m glad the day passed without anything happening in the end. )

ー Ayato boards the vehicle

Ayato: Hm? It’s just you today?

Yui: Yup. Where’s everyone else?

Ayato: How should I know? Since they’re not here, I guess they’re not going home by car today?

Yui: ...

Ayato: What are you making that face for?

Yui: No. I’m just a little worried, considering the lunar eclipse has begun as well.

Ayato: Keh. I’m the only one you should be concerned about.

Driver: ーー May I start the vehicle?

Ayato: I don’t mind.

ー The car starts driving

Yui: Will everything be okay...?

Ayato: Are you that worried? You piss me off. You’re just a Chichinashi too!

Yui: I mean, you were all acting kind of off today as well...

Ayato: Che. They’re no kids, I’m sure it’ll be fiーー

ー The car suddenly comes to a halt

Yui: Kyaaah...!!

Ayato: Woah...!?

Driver: A-Ayato-sama...!!

Ayato: ...The fuck was that...!?

Driver: W...Wolves are...!!

Ayato: Aah!?

*HOOOOOOOOWL*

Yui: ...!

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi...! Move closer!

*Rustle*

Yui: Ayato-kun, what on earth is...?

Ayato: I don’t know...

Either way, don’t leave my side...!!

Yui: Y-Yeah...

*HOOOOOOOOOWL*

Yui: ...!

Ayato: Rest assured...Chichinashi, you belong to me. No way in hell I’m handin’ you over to some wolf!

Yui: Ayato-kun...!!

ー One of the wolves breaks through the window

*SHATTER*

Ayato: Che!!

ー Ayato is attacked by the wolf while protecting Yui

Yui: Ayato-kun!!!!

Ayato: Fuck...That hurt! The fuck’s your problem!!? 

ー The wolf continues its assault

Ayato: Guh...Chichinashi, don’t you dare move from underneath me...!!

Yui: B-But...!

Ayato: Shut up...Guah...!!

*RIIIIIIP*

Ayato: ...Guh...Uu...!!

Yui: ( Oh no, at this rate, Ayato-kun will...!! )

???: Tsk...Where did you all come from...!? Fuck off...!

*THUD*

ー Subaru enters the car

Subaru: What are you doin’!?

*THUD*

ー The wolf backs off

Yui: ...Subaru-kun...!

Subaru: Che...Things are this bad even tho Ayato was ‘round? ...Take that!!

*THUD*

Ayato: Che...

Yui: Ayato-kun...! Things will be okay now...! Hang in there!

Subaru: Oi. Which one of you bastards is next, huh!!?

*Whistle*

*HOOOOOOWL*

Subaru: ...!? Makin’ a run for it...!? Wait...!!

Yui: Subaru-kun...! Wait! Please...Don’t go...!!

Subaru: Che...Fuck...

Yui: Ayato-kun is...!

Ayato: Ugh...

Subaru: He’s out cold...Did he protect you?

Yui: Yeah...!

Subaru: Che...He’s got bite wounds all over...Fuck...They were Wolves from the Demon World after all.

Oi, you. Lend me a hand for a sec. Support this shoulder...

Yui: Okay...!

*Rustle*

Subaru: There we go. I’ll handle the rest. Let’s go. We gotta head back home asap.

Yui: ...Is Ayato-kun okay?

Subaru: Dunno. I’m not a doctor. We gotta show him to Reiji first.

ーー Oi, driver! Che...Our Familiar was beaten as well...

*Whistle*

Yui: What are we gonna do?

Subaru: I called over my Familiar for now. We can leave things be here. Let’s go!

Yui: Okay...!

( Why were we suddenly attacked...? )

( Also, those Wolves from earlier...Where did they...? )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: Ayato-kun, stay strong...!

Reiji: ...His wounds are rather severe. We will have to make a visit to the Demon World to receive help from a clinic.

Kanato: Is it that bad?

Reiji: If he had been a human, this number of wounds would have resulted in an instant death. 

Yui: ...!

Laito: Ayato-kun tried to play the hero all by himself...

Reiji: We were fortunate Subaru rushed to the scene at once, if he had been even a second delayed...

His throat might have been ripped up to shreds.

Subaru: ...The fuck did those wolves want...? Is the Wolf clan trying to declare war on us!?

Shuu: ...How did you feel about the situation? You’re the only one who actually went head to head with them.

Subaru: I don’t know...I just felt like they were kinda different from the Wolves I would often spot ‘round in the Demon World...

Reiji: If I recall correctly, our Father and the King of the Wolf clan have always been been on good terms.

I find it hard to believe that they - who are so loyal to their own leader - would come and assault us.

Subaru: Then what are they!?

Shuu: First Bloods...

Laito: ...Aren’t those guys locked up in a castle at the Demon World?

Shuu: They should be. However, there’s a possibility they have managed to find an opening to leave the castle.

Reiji: Either way, let us return to the Demon World at once, Shuu.

Shuu: Yeah. Let’s go back. We need to report this to the Old Man too.

Laito: Good grief. We have to return to the Demon World during the eclipse again, huh...?

Kanato: ...We have no other choice...

Yui: Uhm, I...

Shuu: You will stay behind here.

Yui: Eh!? But...

Shuu: The Wolves attacked Ayato. Which means you aren’t their target.

Reiji: That sounds like a good idea. Furthermore, the eclipse is ongoing over at the Demon World as well.

We do not know what may happen. You are a human as well.

Yui: ( Good point...If a human such as myself goes to the Demon World, I’ll only end up slowing them down. )

( I’m worried about Ayato-kun and the others but... )

You’ll be able to come back once the lunar eclipse has ended here, right?

Laito: I’d love to, but I’m not sure?

Reiji: Depending on the wolves’ identity, we might have to end up staying at the Demon World for a while.

Yui: But, there’s an eclipse going on over at the Demon World as well, right? Isn’t it dangerous since you don’t know what may happen...?

Subaru: That’s true but the castle’s bein’ protected by our shitty father’s magic, so don’t worry.

Yui: ...

Subaru: Oh come on, don’t look so anxious. I’m hesitant to leave you all by yourself as well...

Shuu: Haah...It’s a pain but we have no other choice. Oi, let’s get going guys.

ー They start walking away

Shuu: I’m leaving the house in your care.

Yui: Yes...

Laito: It saddens me to have to leave your side...But we can’t leave Ayato-kun like this either.

Kanato: I’ll let you have my pudding, so please wait here like you’ve been told to, okay?

Reiji: Well then...Subaru, please carry Ayato.

Subaru: Haah!? Me again!? Don’t be shittin’ me!!

Yui: ( You guys... )

( Please don’t let anything happen... )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: Haah...

( Everyone left for the Demon World so I’m all by myself...Somehow the manor feels even more spacious than usual... )

*Rumble*

Yui: ...!!

( I’m a little lonely. Actually, now that I think of it, since I’m alone here now... )

( I could just run away, right? It’s not like anyone’s keeping an eye on me... )

( But...It’s not like I have anywhere to go still...Besides, is there still even a point in running still...? )

I wonder since when I’ve gotten this used to my life here...? 

( At first, I was so terribly scared. It still hurts to have my blood sucked even now...But. )

( Through getting to know everyone, it’s only still a little but...I... )

*HOOOOOWL*

Yui: !!!

( Oh no, the wolves again...? They didn’t target me last time though... )

( Don’t tell me, they think everyone’s still here...? )

...Uu...

ー The scene shifts to the underground waterway

Yui: Haah...haah...!

( In this case, I should try going to the Demon World, even if I end up being a burden. )

( Who knows what will happen to me if I remain here... )

( I’m sure...He will for sure save me... )

[ Choose Shuu ] [ Choose Reiji ] [ Choose Ayato ]

[ Choose Kanato ] [ Choose Laito ] [ Choose Subaru ]

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) He literally just says ‘my secrets’ and pauses between each syllable of secret (ひ・め・ご・と). However, in English ‘se・crets’ doesn’t have the same effect since it’s only 2 syllables, so I changed it a little. He already mentions ‘secret’ in the previous sentence, so it doesn’t change much about the meaning of this interaction.

(2) やーなこった or ‘yaanakotta’ is a very childish and playful way to say ‘no’ or ‘don’t want to’ in Japanese. 

(3) Literally Laito asks if that is the answer they get after he puts on airs while proudly proclaiming his words. Laito often makes these low key sarcastic or snarky comments at Ayato, so I wanted the English translation to have that same feel to it. 

(4) The term 肉食 or ‘nikushoku’ may mean ‘carnivore’, in recent youth culture, it is also used as a synonym for man or woman who are very assertive when it comes to relationship and sex. Meanwhile 草食 or ‘soushoku’ is used for the exact opposite, referring to those who are hesitant to interact with the opposite sex. I don’t know if Rejet intended for it to have this hidden meaning, but I found it an interesting theory nevertheless!

(5) When Laito says ‘見ちゃった’ or ‘micchatta’ here, it can be taken two ways. Either he refers to him walking in on Ayato trying to suck Bitch-chan’s blood, or he actually finished Yui’s sentence, referring that she saw a wolf at school. 

(6) While におう or ‘niou’ could mean ‘to smell’ in general, when it is written as 臭う, it refers to a bad smell. 

[sugiwa]

Hi. I am the Advice Anon. Please ignore those asks! I am so sorry for spamming your ask box. I still need help, so I’ll paste the entire thing over here. Again, sorry and thank you! Have a great day!

My reply and the full ask are below:

Hello! I hope you’ve been having a great day so far. This is probably unlike all of the other asks you get on a daily basis, author. However, I am in dire need of help, and I have turned to you. Before I begin, I want to apologize in advance, as this ask is going to be long. Now, like I said before, I need some help. You see, I am a freshman in high school, and school hasn’t even been going on for a full 10 weeks (a quarter), and I am already in a huge, messy, sticky situation. You probably already know that in high school, you need a certain number of credits in each field to be able to graduate. I am going to be extremely vague about this because it doesn’t really matter, and I’d really like to remain anonymous, if you know what I mean. One of the fields is World Languages and Visual Arts. Obviously, I am not talented enough to do Visual Arts, so I opted for World Languages instead. My teacher for the course I chose this year… she’s nice. Really kind, and I love that she makes learning a whole new language and culture, which is extremely hard, so much fun. And the fact that she’s one of the nicest teachers I know makes the rest of this so, so painful for me. 4 days ago, for me, was a Thursday. In this class, we had a vocab quiz that day (background info: two days before every quiz, my teacher posts a practice quiz to be done before class starts). I don’t really want to discuss what happened, as it still brings tears to my eyes, but I will give you a vague summary of what was going on. Basically, I couldn’t access my quiz (it was online), so my teacher told me to come in after school to re-do it. I was supposed to close down my computer and work on homework from another class, but instead of doing so, I worked on the practice quiz. And… this was considered cheating, because I was getting extra practice in before taking the quiz– something that the other students didn’t get, you know? My teacher saw my computer screen, and told me that she’d talk to me after school, and she’d be calling home. I couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the class, because I was afraid of what might happen when she called home. After school, she told me to speak with her, and be honest about it. When cheating happens, at our school, the teacher will write us up for Academic Dishonesty and give it to the administration, who then decides the consequences. My teacher had told me that if I was honest with her, she wouldn’t write my up; she’d just give me a zero on the quiz and call home and tell them what I did. I was honest with her, because like I said before, I was afraid. Once I told her everything that happened, she told me that I could call home, let them know what happened myself, and I’d be off the hook (with a zero on the quiz, of course). So, I called home, like she had asked of me, but… they didn’t pick up. I told her that they didn’t pick up, and she told me that it was fine, and that she’d talk to my parents in-person before they picked me up from school. I’m not going to lie, that terrified me more than calling home. I don’t really remember what happened after that, because I was too busy crying, but I do remember that she mentioned something about me doing this before, and that it was not OK to do it the second time, but she’d let me off the hook. The thing is, I am 100% sure I haven’t done this before… or maybe she just didn’t approach me the first time. I told her that I didn’t do this before, and she told me that I was lying again, and began to write me up. I told her that I didn’t mean to do this, and that I was sorry, but she told me to stop lying. She said that she DID approach me the first time I did this, and that I was rude to her then. This brought tears to my eyes– my kind of favorite teacher telling me that I was rude to her. You see, I didn’t grow up here, and although I’ve lived here for 4 years, I am not used to the way people interact here. It was very different where I grew up. For example, you didn’t ask each other how their day was, or what they did during their day, unless you were REALLY curious or concerned, because that was considered nosy and rude. So, I tend to be unintentionally rude, and completely oblivious to it; I have no idea when I’m being rude or not, unless someone specifically says so. I also don’t really understand people well, so that’s a huge problem. So… hearing this from her, really hurt. I told her that I didn’t intend to be rude, and I was trying my best to change (I mean, I was & am reading a book to teach me etiquette and all), and she replied with “that’s good to hear”. Then, when my parents came to pick me up, she talked to them, and even asked one of my parents to walk with us to the Administration Office to turn in the write up. Stuff happened, I got called into the Assistant Principal’s office, and now I have a zero on my quiz (and my homework activity that I never finished), Saturday School, and a black mark on my record. But the thing is… that’s not what I’m concerned about at all. Sure, getting my grades up in time for Progress Reports is going to be an extremely hard task, and Saturday School is going to leave a huge black mark on my record, but that’s not what I’m worried about. My grades have been fractured, but so has my relationship with this teacher. I feel as though she hates me now, that she has lost all trust in me. (Background info: our school does Odd and Even days, so I have half of my classes on one day and half on the other, so that means that I didn’t face my teacher at all on Friday) 3 days ago, on Friday, when I went to school, it was an average day. It would have been an amazing day, had it not been for the situation I was in. All I could think about that day was my World Language teacher. And just thinking about her, and about that classroom, it… gives me a bit of anxiety. This is where I need your help. What would you do if you were in my situation? I really want to repair my relationship with my teacher, because I know that she’s really important; we’re going to be on the same campus for the next 4 years of my life, and even more importantly, she’s going to be my teacher for the next 8 months. I want to graduate with good grades, but more importantly, I want to graduate without holding a grudge against my teacher. I want her to like me, and I want to gain her trust again. Today is a Sunday for me, and I have to go back to school tomorrow, and I have her class then. A part of me is really scared to go to school, a part of me is really angry at my teacher for reporting me (even though it was the right thing to do), and a part of me wants to ditch school tomorrow, or even drop out or transfer from her course, all because I don’t want to face her after I did the wrong thing. It’s not only that, either. I’ve also been avoiding my friends. Would you like to know why I am confiding in awesome strangers on the internet anonymously instead of letting my friends know what’s going on? It’s because I’m afraid that they won’t like me anymore, and they’d ditch me or something. They’re amazing people, and I know that they won’t do that, but a part of me is still paranoid. I’ve been avoiding my friends since Friday, barely talking to them at school, and texting them a little bit in our group chat. They don’t really suspect anything, but that’s good. And that’s why I am asking you. Not just you, but actually anyone who sees this, if they helped me, I’d really appreciate it. I really need help moving forward in this situation, and I’m desperate for help. My parents don’t understand the situation I’m in, and I’m too scared to talk to my friends about it, so I’d really appreciate the help. It’s OK if you don’t reply to this, author. I know that this doesn’t affect you in any way, so you’re not obliged to help me. I’d like to thank you for taking the time from your day to read these extremely long asks. Have a great day. P.S: I absolutely love What Heroes Do! Izumi is such a well written character, and sometimes, I see myself in her. The way she handles situations is so inspirational! And your writing skills are top-tier! My best friend and I actually started writing a book 4 years ago (I mean, we wrote for one month in 6th grade, and then spent one day in 8th grade editing it, and we’ve only got a prologue and 1.5 chapters done, so… clearly, we aren’t doing a good job lol), and you’ve inspired me to go back to that book and re-do it! Thank you so much for being such an inspiration and an idol of mine! Ilysm ❤️

sugiwa:

I wanted to take the  proper time to reply to this. I think any adult willing to hold a grudge against a child is in the wrong. You clearly made a mistake and are now taking steps to improve and learn from it. Additionally, I think teachers tend to forget how much stress students are under in their academic and private lives, so a mistake should be used as an opportunity to teach not punish. I don’t think that you should worry about what this teacher thinks of you. Your teacher didn’t believe you, despite you telling them the truth. No matter how kind or nice someone is, their behavior towards you will always reflect their inner thoughts. If you’ve clearly made a mistake, you should fight to prove that. It’s not as if you intended to ‘cheat,’ given the situation we’re all in with the pandemic, online classes and quizzes are the norm. These kinds of things probably happen regularly. Additionally. I don’t think you need to concern yourself with being rude. My culture is rather blunt and when I first moved here, people weren’t fans of brutal honesty, so it was a big cultural shock.  If people aren’t willing to learn about your culture and understand, then I don’t think they’re people worth hanging out with. Lean on your friends, I don’t think they’d make a big deal over a couple of mistakes and if they do, then it might be worth reconsidering why you were friends with them. 

Thank you for your kind words about the story and I really hope everything works out for you!!

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-19)

Word count: 4.9K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Fluffy stuff for real ;)

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: I kinda sorta really like this part. It was so fun to write :)

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​. Thank you , love <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

“Coffee?” She squeaked, gulping, eyes going wide. 

“Or not,” Sam said quickly, panic rising inside him like a tidal wave. She didn’t want to spend time with him after all. Heartbreak stronger than what he could have imagined ripped through him. So everything that she’d said last night…

“I-” Y/N started to say, clearly taken aback. It was so easy to read her face that Sam wanted to kick himself for even thinking that this was a good idea.

“It’s alright,” he said, voice low. “I understand if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” she protested immediately, then seemed to regret the haste. “I mean… coffee sounds nice. I just… didn’t expect...” her voice trailed off.

She was being honest. Sam could, at least, see that. 

“I thought maybe we should talk,” he said, then added carefully. “Catch up.”

Y/N nodded, a speculative look in her eyes. 

Her eyes. Just like that Sam was lost, marveling at the beauty of them and how they were the most beautiful pair of eyes in the world.

Get a grip! 

He had to scold himself to keep his hungover head on track. “I think we could both use some caffeine after all.”

“Give me a minute.”

Sam saw her rush into the librarian’s room. When she came back, she had a pretty paisley scarf wrapped around her neck. The sheen of the silk reminded Sam of the satin she’d been wearing last night and again, he had to wrench himself back to the present.

What was happening? This was worse than being fixated on a high school crush.

Worse because he didn’t have the excuse of being a hormone driven teenager; because he didn’t want to bring up the pain of the past or face the uncertainty of the future. This was worse because he couldn’t say any of it to her here, where he was a professor and she was a student.

“Ready,” she breathed, coming to stand next to him.

“Where do you want to go?” He asked as they stepped out of the library and walked along the long corridor of the quad overlooking the shadowed trees. 

Y/N pursed her lips. “I actually don’t know any places around here. Just the campus cafes.”

Sam was through with students spotting him, at least for a week. The last thing he needed was someone to rush up to him now.

“I think I know just the place.”

Y/N walked quietly besides him. Sam didn’t peek to see the expression on her face; he stared straight ahead. If he sneaked a glance and found her to be apprehensive, he didn’t think his nerves could take it. Better to assume that she was lost in thought than to confirm she was regretting her decision.

The small café was very close to his home, and thereby hers too. Just two lanes down. Sam had discovered it by fluke on a morning jog, nestled in a small niche of the college town. The café wasn’t grand, which made it all the more cozy. He grabbed his coffee every morning from here before heading for classes or work. Fortunately, the place didn’t have many students coming there. They mostly just preferred the Starbucks on the campus or the other scattered cafes with more seating space. 

Sam opened the door for Y/N, and she stepped in with a murmured thank you. He saw her eyes take in the low ceiling, paneled in dark wood and supported by long wooden beams. The furniture was eclectic and mismatched, as if it had been put together at different times- which it probably had. She would like it, he thought. It was exactly her style.

The barista, Suzy, grinned when she saw him. 

“There you are!” She admonished him. “I thought my most reliable customer had abandoned me.”

Sam shook his head at her. “I had to be in LA for a couple of days… that sort of thing…”

He felt Y/N’s curious gaze on his face. But what was he gonna tell Suzy? That he had been too busy pining after Y/N to make a round? 

“We missed you around here,” she said, then called back, “Ain’t that right, Matt?”

“My Sun wouldn’t rise without seeing your face!” Matt yelled from somewhere inside and Sam chuckled.

“The usual?” Suzy asked and Sam nodded. 

She turned to Y/N, “What can we get you, ma’am?”

“A Cappuccino, please.”

“Regular?”

“Large, please.”

Sam threw her a swift look. All that caffeine on a weak stomach?

“What name do I write?” 

“Oh, it’s not to go,” Sam said quickly. “ We’ll have it here.” 

Suzy raised her eyebrow, her eyes flitting between him and Y/N curiously.

Sam hurriedly turned, gesturing towards the table at the very end, next to the window. It was his favorite place here. 

The memories he had in Stanford, in California were all his. Nothing here had ever been touched by Y/N. Wasn’t that why he had moved from New York, because he couldn’t live in that apartment anymore? Moved across the damn country to escape the pain? And here he was subtly including her in all his new memories, too. Sam could barely think of the library without imagining her behind the desk. Could he come to his café now without thinking of her?

So lost was he in the thought, that before he could pull the chair for her, Y/N had seated herself. Slowly, he sat down opposite to her.

Before Sam could say anything, Y/N burst out. “I’m so sorry about last night! I don’t know what had gotten into me.”

Sam knew. She had been mad at him for going out on a date. While it had made him angry yesterday, today, it just made him feel a tiny bit smug. Y/N apparently didn’t know that he knew.

“You don’t need to apologize-” he started, but she cut him off.

“Just let me get through this, please?” She pleaded.

Had he ever said ‘no’ to her ‘please?’ Sam didn’t think so. He motioned with his hand to continue, giving up.

“I just… It’s very embarrassing to even think about you having to take me home like that,” she slapped her hand across her forehead. “Your evening was ruined because of me. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, or even how ashamed-”

“Y/N-” he cut in, despite having committed to listening to her. It was simply inacceptable to let her stew in this feeling if he could help it. “You didn’t ruin my evening. If anything, you saved me.”

“What?”

“I ran into a couple of girls- oh, from your class. It wasn’t very comfortable,” he admitted. “I didn’t even want to be at the bar to begin with. To top it off, Jody kinda stood me up. You were my knight in shining armour.”

“More like dame sloshing with alcohol,” she snorted. “I’m sorry about Rebecca and Lacey. To be fair, I did try to stop them.”

“Thanks for looking out for me,” he said, and then couldn’t help but tease. “You don’t like them very much, do you?”

Y/N bit her lip. “It’s not like that.”

It totally was. He could see it all over her face- the guilt that she had given away her bad impression of someone. It just wasn’t like her to think ill of anyone. All the same, Sam wondered why she didn’t like them. Had they been mean to her?

“I hope I didn’t say or do anything that I shouldn’t have last night.” she was looking down at her hands. 

“You really don’t remember, do you?” Even to him, his voice sounded chagrined and defeated. 

“No, I don’t.” Her brows furrowed, voice rising. “Did I do something? What happened last night?”

Sam took a deep breath, and said with as much confidence as he could muster. “Nothing happened. I walked you home and you went straight to bed. That’s all.”

“So we didn’t sit on a sidewalk anywhere?”

Shit. Lying to her was going to be dicey if she even remembered bits and parts. 

So, instead of answering her question, Sam countered, “What do you remember?”

The hand on her forehead slid down to cover part of her face. “Nothing,” she groaned, trying hard to think. “I remember absolutely nothing. One minute I was asking for the- gosh, I don’t even remember what number drink it was and the next moment I was throwing up in the toilet.”

Sam winced. “That bad, huh?”

Y/N shook her head. “Not really. I feel fine now. Fine enough to risk a large coffee.” She tilted her head towards the cup before her.

There was one in front of him, too. Where had the coffee come from? He hadn’t even noticed anyone place it on the table.

“Thanks for the water,” she added. “It made all the difference, I think.”

“I’m glad.”

“You didn’t tell me, though,” she insisted, not giving in to his track change. “Did we ever sit on a footpath?”

The impatience and doubt in her voice hinted that she might be remembering exactly what he was. Her hands around his waist, fingers digging into his shirt. Clearly, telling her the truth would only upset her. It was better to play safe.

“Just for a bit. Your feet were hurting.”

“You’re being very illusive,” she accused, eyes narrowed.

“And that’s how I make my living,” he grinned. “Really, though. You were mostly out of it. You fell asleep the minute your head hit the sack.”

“Why did you stay, then?”

Y/N could put the Spanish inquisition to shame, Sam thought, asking the exact questions he didn’t want to answer. 

She’d make a damn good attorney.

“Because I was worried you might get nauseous and then trip on the way to the bathroom.”

“Uhhhgg. This is the worst,” she threw her hands up. “I wish there was some way I could erase that out of your memory.”

If there had been a way, Sam would have resisted with the last bit of his strength. There was no chance he was ever ridding his mind of even a second from last night. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t bring it up,” he said as lightly as he could. “After all, you did save me from those girls last night. Consider us even.”

“You guys want anything else?”

Sam looked up to see Matt standing over him with a huge grin. Sam could take a few guesses about what was on Matt’s mind.

Ignoring Matt’s smirk, Sam looked at Y/N expectantly. 

“Nothing for me. Thank you,” she said shyly.

“The usual for you, Sam?” Matt wiggled his eyebrows. 

He sighed. “I don’t have a usual for food, Matt. You know that I don’t eat here.”

“You liked that burger one time,” he reminded, lingering on purpose, eyes flitting curiously to Y/N for just a second.

“Fine. Get the burger!” And maybe leave us alone.

“Okie dokie,” he grinned again, whistling as he went away, no doubt to gloat to Suzy about how he has successfully taken Sam’s case up.

“Make it to go,” Sam hollered after him.

Right then, his cellphone rang shrilly. Excited, Sam looked at the screen, then rolled his eyes in slight disappointment when he read the name. He put the phone to his ear. “Chase.”

“Samuel!” The voice drawled on the other end. “How be it going, m’ boy?”

“Don’t call me that,” Sam said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Samuel or m’ boy?”

“Both, just both.” He sighed. “What do you want?”

Y/N was sipping on her coffee, trying to look inconspicuous, but really, it wasn’t like she could avoid listening in on the conversation.

“You were supposed to be at the office, why is your cabin empty?”

Sam knew very well that he had to go through the depositions once more before the hearing on Monday. Chase was the primary, and he wasn’t very confident. He’d asked Sam to go through it. In fact, he’d had Stacey- Sam’s secretary- to put it on Sam’s calendar.

“I’m a bit hungover right now. Just mail the depositions to me?”

“No can do. Come over tomorrow. I want to go over the papers with you.”

“It’s a Sunday!”

Chase laughed. “And when has that stopped you from working?”

It hadn’t, but Sam couldn’t go tomorrow. He had been waiting for a solid month, dragging his way through the day by looking at the photo by his bedside. He couldn't say that out loud with Y/N here, though. 

“Chase,” he said carefully. “I can’t tomorrow. You know what day it is.”

“Oh, right! But I won’t take your whole day. Just drop by in the morning, I swear it won’t be more than an hour. And I’ll owe you one.”

“I’m starting to think, having you owe one is even worse than owing you one.”

Y/N giggled into the cup and then tried to conceal it by coughing. It made Sam smile automatically, but also got him annoyed that he was wasting this stolen time with her on a phone call from Chase Lincoln of all people.

“If that’s it then,” Sam said, pulling the phone away from his ear when Chase’s protests sounded.

“No nooo wait. We didn’t even talk about the weekend.”

“What about the weekend?” 

“It’s the Induction fair, isn’t it?” Chase sounded appalled. “Don’t you teach there? You ought to know, man! We’ll have a blast.”

“It’s only the induction fair. It’s the same every year.”

“But this year Jess is coming.”  Chase stressed. Sam could almost see his shit eating grin. “Ask her out this time, please? By now, you’ll have to relearn how to be around a girl!”

Oh the irony. Sam just might get to be around the girl, if Chase would just shut up. 

“Goodbye, Lincoln!” Sam cut the call, impossibly irritated. Y/N was already done with her coffee while he hadn’t touched his.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised. “It’s work.”

“That’s fine,” she waved it off. “It sounded like you were talking to a friend.”

Chase was his friend- at least when he wasn’t interrupting. He had been working with Sam for years now, as his junior associate. Somewhere between staying up at nights, poring over casefiles and silent, calculative glances in courtrooms, they had become friends.

“He’s alright,” Sam shrugged.

“Were you talking about the Stanford Induction Fair?” 

There was a twinkle in her eye. Y/N was clearly very excited about this. And despite how grumpy he had been when Chase had brought the topic up, Sam wanted to talk all about the Induction fair now. It was fairly basic. The alumni came over for talks and activities. There was a lot of drinking.

“Yes,” he said. “You’re heading the Committee, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am, but you don’t like it very much.” She surmised. Funny how even now, she got him just like that. 

“It means long days and nights, especially since I’ve been invited for a talk,” Sam answered more fully. “Chase is a couple years younger. We were in Stanford at the same time, but I didn’t know him then. He’s usually excited for these kinds of things. Happy to show off for the college girls.”

Y/N giggled. “How will it be different for you?”

“Well, I get to dress casually and bully you newbies around if I want to,” he said, “And oh, you get to call me Sam for the day.”

It wasn’t the right thing to say, because her face fell for an instant. It was a reminder of the past, even if he hadn't meant it that way- of how things had changed. So Sam had been right in his assessment after all. She had suppressed a good chunk of past, buried it so deep down that not even the light of conscious thoughts touched it. 

Y/N rearranged her features back into a smile, the corner of her lips quirked up. “I’m sure the girls club will have a field day with that one.”

Sam felt his cheeks heat up. Here’s something he hadn’t expected. To have his wife tease him about other girls. He was even less excited about the induction knowing that Jess would be there. That was bound to be awkward as it was, but with Y/N heading the preparation, he didn’t know how to maneuver around. He could hope that Y/N wouldn’t remember about his college girlfriend, but it didn’t seem likely. If Y/N had dated anyone before him, Sam wouldn’t have forgotten the name, either.

Jess coming here was like an omen that Sam couldn’t outrun his past. More than that, he couldn’t outrun the conversation he had been putting off for so long now. The hard part was doing it without opening her buried wounds. 

He took a sip of his now cold coffee. “Where does this leave us, Y/N?” Did she notice how his voice softened when he said her name? How could she not? “What’re we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said, slowly… almost like her voice was choking up. “I don’t know what to do. But, I do know that I can’t go back to not talking. I can’t go back to that first week. I just can’t.” She was rapidly blinking her eyes.

“I suppose we can, at least, be friends, right?” Sam asked, keeping the hopeless yearning out of his voice and almost succeeding. It was beyond dramatic, but Sam knew he would be devastated if she refused. “We’d started out as friends. We can still do that.”

Don’t say no, Don’t say no.

“What about college?” She asked. “No one can know.”

The relief was a plausible, physical thing. She wasn’t refusing… she was just being pragmatic.

“Then we don’t tell anyone,” he suggested. “How hard can it be?”

Her voice was grim, when she said, “Wouldn’t be the hardest thing in the world.”

***********

You had known that this place was special to Sam the moment the barista’s eyes had lit up, but as he picked up his parcel while leaving, you noticed how Suzy and Matt kept exchanging loaded glances with each other. It looked like Sam was going to have a lot of questions to answer when he came back alone. You weren’t clueless about what was happening. Those two were going to hound him about you, about his date. 

But was that what this was? A date?

He had asked you out, picked the place and paid the bill, despite your protests. In fact, if you didn’t know better, you might have construed all that teasing as light flirting. On your part, you definitely didn’t interact with other people like this. Just Sam. It had always just been Sam.

At first you had feared that he was going to be mad about last night, or worse, hurl all the accusations of the past. Not that you didn’t deserve it, but that would mean the end of whatever you had going for you right now- this careful and fragile relation that Sam wanted to call friendship. You were dubious about the prospect because being with him was like falling. Once you tipped off the edge, you could never go back to the way it was. You could only hurtle downwards with insurmountable speed. Who could ever fight gravity? Loving him was exactly like that- like gravity. Even when you had been standing at the edge of the cliff, resisting that fall, it was his love that kept you tethered to the ground.

“You’re quiet,” he noted, walking next to you.

And despite your better judgement, you spit out the truth, “I’m waiting for you to… not be so calm.”

He didn’t say anything, and when you couldn’t take it anymore, you looked up at his face. Sam was frowning lightly, not like he was angry, but like he was trying to frame words. “It’s not coming, Y/N. Anger or whatever it is you’re waiting for.” He looked at you for just a split second and you saw through him clearly in that moment. 

Sam had been angry at some point, maybe even more than that. Your insides started to feel like they were being pierced with tiny needles at the thought of what must have happened after you left. You couldn’t let yourself think about it, and Sam could see that. He could see right through you, and just how easy it would be to riddle you with holes by firing questions. Maybe he still cared enough to not want to see you in such a pitiable state. Or maybe the anger wasn’t coming now. Either way, he didn’t seem to want to elaborate, and you were too damn scared to ask. 

There was something else that you wanted to know about. You had been dying to know since you first saw him.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked hesitantly.

Sam looked wary but he nodded. “Sure, anything.”

“How’s….” Your throat closed up. “How’s Jo? And Dean and aunt El?”

Sam’s stiff shoulders relaxed and a hint of a smile touched his lips. You felt yourself deflate right along with him, the answer clear on his face before he even spoke the words. 

“Jo-” The grin widened- “Jo’s doing great. She runs the diner now… took over from Ellen five years ago. Ellen’s part of this biker gang. From what I know, she’s loving life on the road. Jo’s expanding the business, owns two more diners. And Dean’s pretty much the same. They got married two summers ago.”

You stopped walking. “Got… married…?” You blinked, feeling a wetness at the corner of your eyes. And yet your lips were stretching into a smile.

“Yes,” he said smiling, as well, “They’re very happy.”

You hurried to wipe your tears, feeling the extreme joy warring against the immense sadness. Jo and Dean deserved this happiness more than about anyone you knew. You had teased your cousin endlessly about how they might end up having the same surname one day, and then they would be twice the sisters than they already were. Every cell in your body missed her.

Sam seemed to be on the verge of adding some more, but he stopped himself. You wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you. Was it the same church they had married in? Had she missed you? Did she still miss you at all? 

If that was the case, you were glad that Sam didn’t say anything more. You didn’t know what would hurt worse- the confirmation or the denial. As for you? You were elated that your family was safe and happy.

It wasn’t hard to see that Sam had been very careful today about what he said, clearly being evasive, but you wouldn’t dream of pushing him on that. Whatever you were getting out of his words, his company and his kindness was still more than you could ever ask for. You knew that very well.

The two of you were almost to the turn of your building, the high wall with creepers coming into view.

“Y/N,” Sam said as you reached the gate- each time he said your name, a spark flew through your body. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you… from the very moment I saw you.”

“Y-yeah?” You stuttered.

“I-" He whispered, voice fervent, "I’m… just so incredibly proud of you, Y/N! You did it! You got into Stanford!”

He breathed out heavily, as if the words had been waiting to burst out.

“They were running through resumes to form the committee for the induction fair, I happened to read yours,” Sam continued, “Pre-law and a license for paralegal practice while working two jobs? That’s just-” he looked around to find the right word- “That’s phenomenal! And you got in with a full-ride! Not that I doubted it for a second. But it doesn’t make me feel any less vindicated. Doesn’t make me any less proud.”

You put your face in both your hands and finally started shaking, crying into your palms.

“Hey?” Very tentatively his hand landed on your shoulder, his fingers curling to the shape of it. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, not taking your hands away from your face. What were you going to tell him? That you didn’t think there was anyone left anymore who’d be happy for you? Let alone be proud? The day that you had opened the acceptance letter for Stanford, your very soul wanted to run towards Sam, the way your nineteen year old self had, barefooted and in pouring rain. Even in those dark days, when you tried with all your might to not think about him, for that one day you had allowed yourself to freely imagine how Sam would have reacted to the news. He had always pushed you, drilled it in your head that no law school was beneath you. He’d wanted this for you more than you had wanted it for yourself. And here you were, getting to live the moment. See the absolute victory in his eyes.

Sam’s grip on your shoulder tightened. “Y/N, you have to know, no matter the circumstances, no matter if we had met or not, I would’ve always been proud of you. Always. You can’t seriously question that!”

It made you cry harder. 

Sam’s other hand came to rest over yours, on your face. “You know those girls in your apartment really don’t like me. I swear if they see you crying now, one of them is going to come at me with a machete.”

You laughed despite yourself and turned a bit to wipe your face on your scarf. It was regretful that it meant Sam had to drop both his hands. You could smell his cologne, the one that you'd gifted him.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Yesterday I passed out on you and today I’m a blubbering mess.”

Beyond the tall gates, the fountain in the meadow gurgled softly.

“I guess I’ll see you Monday, then?” You asked, feeling more dejected than you should have. 

“Soon,” Sam sighed, and absentmindedly, from the sheer force of habit, just like he had done a hundred times before, he stepped, hand twitching to reach out to your cheek. Halfway there, he took a deep breath and placed it against your arm instead. “I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

With that he sidestepped and started walking back the way you had come. You stared after him. Just around the corner he turned back and called. “Go in, it’s starting to get cold. And oh, say hi to Judgy Judy for me!” With a wink he turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.

Judgy Judy? What the hell had happened last night?

In a daze, you crossed the meadow and climbed up the stairs, completely forgetting the lift. Lost in thought, you turned the key in the lock and were met by an uproar the moment the door opened.

“See, now you’re dead, Y/N!” Kevin said, exasperated.

“Excuse me, what?”

Kevin was standing on the Sofa along with Jack. Meg was sitting on the kitchen island with both her feet drawn up and Cas was standing on the parapet of the balcony.

“And now you’re deader than dead. Get out of the lava!” Jack sighed.

Either you were very slow or the world wasn’t making sense anymore.

“We’re playing the floor is lava,” Cas explained patiently from the other end of the room. “And you’re charring very quickly by standing there.”

You yanked your shoes and hurried over to Meg’s bean bag, opposite to the balcony and jumped on it. 

“It doesn’t matter now, you’re already dead,” Kevin announced.

“Hey, asshole, it’s her house,” Meg said. “She gets an extra life, or you get kicked out. Take a pick.”

“Fine, if you want to play it like that,” Kevin huffed. 

The bean bag was placed such that you were standing closest to Cas, who turned slightly pink when he met your gaze. So Meg had told him that you knew. 

You threw him a huge grin, but Cas’s eyes zeroed in on you. “Have you been crying?” He asked. 

Well, so much for escaping the observant guys of this building. You shook your head. 

“I’m standing on the balcony, you know. I can see the gate from here,” he said mildly. Cas wasn’t trying to force anything out of you, he was just concerned, which made it even easier to tell him.

“I’m really happy, Cas. Don’t worry about it.”

His blue eyes tightened for a second, then the twinkle returned in them. “You’re happy,” he said, lips twitching, “But are you alive?” The next moment, he stepped on the bean bag, throwing you out of balance and you had to step down on the carpet to steady yourself.

“C’mon, she’s dead for real this time,” Kevin complained, looking at Meg, who shrugged. 

“I tried, Y/N.”

But you were happy to take the next turn to be the counter as everyone scrambled up again, and take the turn after that, and do it with a smile. Tonight you wouldn’t stop smiling.

***************************

A/N 2: Who’s happy that we are getting some happy stuff?

*Raises hand* ME!

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[tamcitrus]

Senior year.

I had fun writing this. It’s my first time writing Ushijima and I like what I did.

A big thanks to @loneveenas​ for beta-reading my work and all the great advices she gave me 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰

I wrote this for the HQ Writers’ Net  monthly prompt! My prompt is: New Beginnings.

pairing | Ushijima x f!reader

words | 4k (!!!)

warnings | curse, insult

work is under the cut ~

Who the hell changed school in their senior year? Probably only you. It's not like you had a ton of friends to left behind anyways. On top of that, the last person you dated turned out to be a shit, so maybe this family drama and moving to another city was good. More so when you got a recommendation to enter a great Academy, Shiratorizawa, your mom's contacts finally put to good use, or so she said.

You became friends with a guy in your class who saw you playing guitar after lunch and approached you.

"Do you play? That's cool," he said, casually, as if he didn't spot you from across the campus.

"Uhm yeah, thanks," you forced a smile.

"Semi-semi, is this the new girl in your class? Hi! I'm Tendou Satori, Semi's best friend," a redhead sang from behind this Semi guy.

"No you're not, ugh," Semi pushed the other boy off him and he smiled at you.

"Hi Satori, hi Semi. I'm [y/n][l/n], nice to meet you both."

                                                       -*-*-*-*-*-

Within a few months, a lot of talks and pranks and a ton of hours playing guitar together, you and Semi Eita became best friends. Your taste in music, your passion in pursuing dreams, your humor, it was like you were siblings.

With him, and Satori, you got to know the whole Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club, and of course their ace: Ushijima Wakatoshi.

You and Ushijima had encountered each other a few times. Well, a “few” to say the least. He had seen you multiple times hanging out with Eita-kun outside the gym, just killing time until he had to practice. Today was not an exception.

“Ushijima-san! Is it practice time already?” Semi stood up and dusted his pants.

“No, it’s not. I’m here early,” the tall guy said, serious as usual.

“I can set for you,” Eita offered.

“If you want…” he said and kept walking.

“Do you want to watch, [y/n]? You can stay until it’s really the time for practice” Semi said, offering you his hand to help you get up.

“Am I allowed to?” you said. “Your handsome captain kinda intimidates me,” you said, entering the gym behind Semi, and loud enough for Ushijima to hear you.

If he did he didn’t react, Semi set ball after ball for him to spike, and it was interesting to watch. You grabbed your sketchbook and pencil and started drawing a few lines here and there from both boys playing.

“Ooooh~ will you draw me too?” Satori appeared out of nowhere and was crouching by your side, looking at your sketches.

“Of course I will, if you play,” you answered. The boys in the court were looking at your interaction with the middle blocker.

“Are you drawing us?” Semi said, walking your way. “Let me see.”

Ushijima was intrigued, he’s not gonna lie to himself. All of you intrigued him and it was so confusing to him. He walked to the bench and drinked water while you showed his teammates your drawings.

“Wakatoshi! Yours is great, come to see it!” Satori pulled him from his shirt, and you held your notebook for him to watch. “This is great, you should be a mangaka,” Satori said.

“It’s just a hobby,” you laughed. You saw Washijo-sensei arrive to the gym. You got your belongings together quickly so the old sensei couldn't scold you for intruding his practice. “See you later guys!” you exited the building from the contrary door where the coach was standing.

Ushijima was flattered. No one before had drawn him and showed said draw to him. You really were intriguing.

                                                      -*-*-*-*-*-

The next day you get to the volleyball table, as people called it, looking for Semi. You were one of the few affortunates outside the team, if not the only one, to sit there from time to time.

“Can I help you?” Ushijima asked.

"I was looking for Eita," you said. Your eyes were red, as if you were crying.

"He's sick, he isn't coming today," Leon answered.

"Oh, that's why I couldn't reach him… Thanks and sorry for interrupting."

You turned around, leaving a table full of volleyball players confused. Satori took his food and followed you to another table.

"Are you ok?" He said, sitting in front of you and offering his food.

"Yep. All good," you forced a smile. "Just needed Eita."

"You're catching someone else's attention~" he said, gesturing with his head to his previous table. Ushijima was looking at you, no intentions of being subtle. Not that he cared about what anyone else thinks but he really wasn't trying. "I can get you his address if you want to check on him," Tendou offered.

"I'd like that, thanks Satori."

You ended at Semi's house after school, sitting at the end of his bed while he was just lying there recovering from a fever.

"I'm sorry to come and bother you when you're like this," you ended telling him your newest family drama. The fact that your father tried to convince you with material stuff, such as a car or money, so you went to live with him made you upset, it made you feel like he didn't love you, he just wanted to win something to your mom. You were almost crying again.

"It's ok, I told you I'd be there no matter what and I'm keeping my promise. I can't hug you right now so just hug my pillow instead."

"I'm definitely getting sick after this," you laughed.

"Ushijima texted me. He was worried about you," your friend said and waited for your reaction.

"Bullshit," you scoffed and Semi lent you his phone.

Eita-kun, [y/n] was looking for you and didn't look good. Is she ok? you had read the text a few times but still didn't believe it.

"I told him it was a family business and I'll keep him updated," he waited a minute for you to say something and took his phone back. "Oh my, you're speechless."

"This doesn't make any sense," you looked at Semi. "He doesn't even talk to me."

"He's just like that," he shrugged. "But obviously he has you in mind. Maybe you actually have a chance to get your crush."

"I don't have a crush on him," you lied.

You were observing him since you started the year at his same class. Besides his looks, he was handsome, his personality was intriguing. He was interesting. His stoic face, his direct manners, his apparent lack of interest in anything but volleyball, his persistence with practicing, all about him and the intensity he did anything with was outstanding for you.

"Yeah the ton of sketches you have of him don't say the same," your friend scoffed.

You thought Eita didn't notice it, but he did: how your gaze lasted a few seconds longer on him than on anyone else, the way you blush when he greets you every morning, the sudden shyness when he approached Semi and you when you were playing guitar on the breaks, the fact that you had an obvious fixation on drawing the ace of the team, and he could go on the whole day.

You left Semi's house that day finally admitting that maybe, just maybe you did have a crush on his captain.

                                                      -*-*-*-*-*-

A week later you were sick. It's your fault so come over here and bring me some snacks and any homework we get, you texted you friend. And of course his only brain cell found a way to try and help you become close to your crush.

"Ushijima-san, can I ask you a favor?" Eita took the captain away from everyone after class and when he nodded, Eita continued. "[Y/n] couldn't come today and she asked me to get her the homework from math class. I can't bring it to her today but she lives near your house, maybe you can drop it on your way home? Only if you want, I don't want to bother you," he didn't even have an excuse, but he hoped his teammate didn’t ask why. "I'm sorry, I don't really trust anyone else to do it," he bowed.

"I can do it, no problem," Wakatoshi said. He could be reliable, it was his duty as captain, right?

And there he was, knocking on your door. He would just drop Semi's notes and leave, maybe he'd have time to practice some more on his house.

"It's open!" you said from inside.

"[Y/n]-san? It's Ushijima Wakatoshi. May I come in?" he was standing at the entrance. He closed the door behind him and noticed that your house smelled like you. He heard you cough in surprise.

"Yes, come in!"

He saw you in the living room, on the couch and wrapped up in a blanket.

"Hi, Ushijima-kun. I'm so sorry to bother you. I don't know what happened to Semi, he's a douchebag. Thanks so much for coming," you stood up and got the notebook from his hand.

"You shouldn't have left your door unlocked" he commented. "Are your parents home?"

"Mom works late today, so, no," you stood up and started walking to the kitchen.

"And your father?"

"Not in the picture," you smiled but it didn't reach your eyes. You were mad and still avoiding him after the 'come live with me and you'll get a car' thing, it wasn't the best thing Ushijima could ask at the moment. "Can I offer you some tea? Or coffee?" You walked behind the kitchen counter.

"I’m sorry. Just a tea please," he sat at your table. He wasn't planning on staying but he made you uncomfortable by asking things about your family and he couldn't just leave now.

"It's nothing. He barely was around so now that I grow up it's not a big deal," you set a cup of tea in front of him and another in front of you. "Is your family waiting for you? I don't want to keep you."

"I let them know I was coming to a classmate's house, so it's ok."

He drank his tea in silence, your tv playing softly in the background. He felt something touch his leg and saw a big grey cat.

"Grape, leave him alone!" you scolded. "Sorry, he's excited to have visits. We don't receive much people besides Eita," you smiled. Ushijima thought this was the first genuine smile he saw on you, and he liked it. The cat made his way to your lap and purred.

"He's nice," he stated. What was it about you that he found so fascinating?

"Oh, I drawed something to make a flyer for the next tournament. Do you want to see it?" you offered and went to find it. You were back with a big drawing with him in the middle and the rest of the team from major to minor by his sides. "This was fun to do, and the fact that you're the tallest also made it easier."

"It looks good. Thanks for doing this, I’m sorry we can’t repay you," he felt kinda bad about it.

"I like to do it, so it's fine. Semi buys me snacks for this so he’s repaying," you giggled. You took his empty cup and yours and went to the kitchen to wash it.

Ushijima couldn't help himself and went through your drawings while he waited for your return. You were really good, Tendou was right.  He saw there were a lot of him: him in lunch, him looking absentmindedly at the window in class, him in the court and spiking, him and Semi talking. Each one was better than the last. This was how you looked at him? You made him look way cooler than he thought he was.

You took a little longer than usual to wash two empty cups but you needed a minute to recompose yourself, you felt nervous and flustered, the fever you had wasn't helping either. Then you turned around, ready to talk about nothing again, and Wakatoshi was looking through your sketchbook. He was looking at your drawings. To be more specific, he was looking at his drawings. Shit, he wasn't supposed to see those. You walked slowly back to the table.

"Oh I'm… really embarrassed, you shouldn't have seen that," you were now standing at the opposite side of the table, his eyes still fixated on your sketches. “I can discard them if it makes you uncomfortable,” you held your hand open for him to return your notebook. He looked up. You were blushing.

“I like them. I really like that you draw me,” he admitted and returned your sketches. “I have to go now. Thanks for the tea.”

“Thanks for coming,” you said and watched him leave. You exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding as you saw his back fading at the distance.

That was fucking unreal. You felt overwhelmed and there was only a person to blame. No, not Ushijima, he was being nice, in his own way. I’ll fucking kill you tomorrow istg, you texted Semi. He felt triumphant and didn’t care about your death threat. Yeah you can thank me later, he responded.

                                                      -*-*-*-*-*-

The next day Eita received glares from you all morning, you refused to talk to him. He didn’t really care, he knew his little trick yesterday had been put into effect when Ushijima asked him that morning if you were coming to school today. You avoided your usual table and sat alone at lunch, away from the volleyball club table and away from your friend, maybe when he didn't find you he'd leave you alone for the day.

“Hey,” he said when he found you and he sat in front of you. “Come on, you can’t be mad forever [y/n], I’m your best friend,” he whined a little.

“Shut up, he saw all my fucking sketches. He might think I’m a stalker and it’s your fault,” you hissed. You felt Ushijima’s stare all morning and now you saw him looking at you and Semi when he stood up and followed the team to exit the cafeteria.

“He’s looking this way, isn’t he? He asked for you today, before you arrived. So, I won. You’re really on his mind!” he grinned.

"You're way too excited for this. He's probably thinking how to tell me that I throw all of the drawings I did of him!"

"I wouldn't ask you that. I like them."

Suddenly, a tall figure was behind you. You glared at Semi for not warning you and turned around to greet Ushijima. 

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he said in the same casual tone he used before.

"I'll leave you two alone. Find me later, ok?" Eita smiled at you and at his captain before leaving.

"Hi Wakatoshi-kun," you felt your cheeks turn red. "Thanks again for coming yesterday and keeping me company. I enjoyed it. I'm sorry that Eita bothered you."

"I'm… I had a good time too," how could he explain what he felt? It was all too confusing. "I was thinking if you would like to come and see me at our practice game tomorrow after class?" that couldn't fail. He saw his teammates asking their girlfriends to come and watch their games. Well- you weren't his girlfriend. Not yet. But this could be a good start.

"Oh… yeah I'd like that," you smiled.

Wait, did he just think about you being his girlfriend?

                                                      -*-*-*-*-*-

And there you were. Sitting on the floor by the door, sketching again while the guys did their warm up. Ushijima had seen you arriving and slightly bowed his head to say hi.

"Hey." Semi approached you. "I didn't tell you we were playing. What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry? Someone else invited me, you shitty friend," you smiled.

Eita knew that smile wasn't for him, you were still pretending to be mad at him. He turned around to follow your gaze and saw Ushijima looking back at you. It was almost imperceptible but he was smiling too. Wakatoshi was smiling at you.

"Oh, you so owe me one," Semi said and went back to the court.

You were going to insult him again but he was too far when you reacted. Well, maybe you did owe him, but you had something else in mind at the moment. When the game was over, and Shiratorizawa obviously won, Ushijima approached you.

“If you want to wait a bit I’ll walk you home, we’re having a meeting and then I’m done,” he explained.

“Of course, I’ll be sitting outside waiting for you,” you smiled. You were smiling a lot that day.

Ten or twenty minutes later, you didn’t really know, he was standing behind you and observing how you finished a drawing.

“Oh, Ushijima-kun! Sorry, didn’t hear you were here. Are you ready to go?” you closed your sketchbook and put it back on your backpack.

He nodded and offered his hand to help you stand. Remember Wakatoshi, ask her about how she feels and if she has someone in mind, like a crush or something, Tendou said before he left. No, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t have a casual talk like that out of nowhere. But he could try.

“You played well today. I mean, you always do, but you were like even better today,” you said when you started walking out of school.

“I didn’t know you understand about volleyball,” he said. He felt in better shape today too, for some reason.

“Uh yeah, my… the last guy I dated played too. He was good and he explained it to me, so I have a pretty decent knowledge and I can tell when someone is good. You’re awesome.”

“You don’t… anymore? Date them, I mean,” well maybe he can do small talk.

“No!” that was too enthusiastic. “I mean, no, I don’t. That was one of the reasons I moved here, besides from my parents divorce. There’s this saying that goes like better be alone than in bad company. Well, my mom and I sticked to that,” you laughed. He liked that, your laugh and how you can laugh from the bad experiences.

“Am I a good company?” he was genuinely curious but it sounded like he was flirting, though he had no idea how to do it.

“Yes you are!” you said quickly, you didn't even need to think, of course he was. You stopped and looked at him. “I uhm… I like you, Ushijima-kun. Like romantically? I don’t know if that makes sense to you but…”

“I like you too, I think. I keep getting distracted when you’re around at school and today I wanted to impress you, so I tried to play at my %120,” he interrupted.

“Yeah, that sounds like you like me,” you giggled. He was so bold and sincere. “Can I kiss you?”

His mind went blank for a minute. Had he even kiss someone before? Yeah, at that dumb 'spin the bottle' game, on the party his teammates organized for the beginning of their senior year. Had he kissed someone he felt something for? No, definitely no. He wasn't even sure he liked someone before. His mind was put on volleyball the whole time.

He was staring at you. Your eyes were on his, expectant. He sighed and put his big hands on your waist, instinctively closing the distance between your bodies. You felt his warm through your shirt. You put your hands over his and made your way up his arms slowly. Even on your tiptoes you didn’t reach his mouth so when he finally nodded you pulled him down by the collar of his jacket.

It was a soft and chaste kiss, his chapped lips felt so good against your own. You caressed them with the tip of your tongue, hesitant. He mimicked your actions and your tongues explored each other's mouth shily. You retreated for a second to look him in the eyes. He smiled and kissed you again, this time with the same passion he did everything else on his life. It was more insistent, almost clingy. You tangled a hand on his hair, it was incredibly soft, and the other rested on his chest. When you separated looking for air, his hands were still holding firmly to your waist.

“Semi… Eita-kun told me you had a bad experience with your ex. I would never do such a thing. If you want, I can try and give you a new beginning, a new experience…”

“Ushijima, are you asking me to date you?” you interrupted, surprised. You also made a mental note to punch Semi. “Oh my, the Ushijima Wakatoshi is asking me out, for god’s sake” you didn’t want to tease him but you couldn’t help yourself.

He looked at you, unamused. This wasn’t a joke to him but he learned that your way of coping with things was through laughter, so he waited for you to pass the surprise and be serious again, the whole time holding you from your waist against his body.

“You’re not answering,” he said after a minute. You were just looking at him and blushing.

“I want to,” you said and caressed his face. “I’d like that, yeah. So… can I call you my boyfriend now?”

“Yes you can, you're my girlfriend now,” he simply said. He let you go and started walking again as if nothing happened.

“Can I hold your hand?” when he hummed in response, you kept talking. “And can I kiss you tomorrow at lunch? Oh everyone’s gonna be so surprised!” you looked at your hands held together.

He laughed at your silly questions and comments about how your classmates were going to react when they saw you together. You arrived at your home and he walked you to the door.

“For real, can I kiss you in front of everyone tomorrow? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you were just joking before but now you really wanted him to voice his thoughts.

“Yes, just not in class,” he answered. “Sadly, I have to go now so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Text me when you get home,” you said and he kissed you one more time before leaving.

                                                      -*-*-*-*-*-

"Maybe, just maybe, I owe you a big one," you said the next morning after greeting Semi.

"Yeah, how's that?" your friend asked with a satisfied smile.

"I confessed yesterday. And it went even better than I thought."

"Yeah, I know. Tendou told me. I can't believe you didn't call me yesterday after it happened," he whispered, he was offended. "Maybe the whole school knows by now."

You laughed out loud. Ushijima told you he mentioned the situation to Satori, he was his best friend and the one who advised him to confess his feelings, so you texted him too to thank him.

"I wanted to surprise you, I didn't expect the rumor to spread throughout the school like fire!"

And in fact, by lunchtime the whole school was talking about you and how could it be that the new girl conquered Ushijima’s heart in a few months? If the girls didn't like you before, now some of them definitely hated you. It didn't really matter, you would make it work. After almost a year of bad experiences, you were happy again.

                                                      -*-*-*-*-*-

Your relationship with Ushijima was easier than you expected, somehow your opposite personalities balanced each other. Your routine didn’t change that much, but now you walked home in your boyfriend’s company everyday. Your mom loved him, of course she did, he was a gentleman, he even bought her a present the day you asked him to come dinner to meet her.

Your senior year was coming to an end, and you were more than happy with all the new things that came with it.

"Would you come to prom with me?" Ushijima asked at the end of the day.

You were chilling on your couch after his practice, watching a volleyball game of a team he liked. Your legs were tangled together, your back resting on his chest and his head resting on top of your head.

"Of course, Toshi! I wouldn't want to go with anyone else," you took his hand and kissed it, both of you still focused on the game.

He didn't think you'd say no, but he had to make sure, just in case.

Almost five months have passed since the day he asked you to date him and he was sure of two things about his future: he wanted to be a professional player and he wanted to spend as many time as he could with you, maybe not necessarily in that order.

Neither of you believed in 'happily ever after', not with your respective parents' divorce, but you did believe in spending many years together, making each other happy.

[c-atm]

Connie Maheswaran sighed...She knew this was a bad idea, but no one else was around, and the best friend/ bane of her existence/ big crush/ betrothed had an eye for these things, so his expertise was appreciated.

"So." Steven Universe, gem hybrid, alien prince, sweetheart, and hero to many, started with a grin. Placing his hand on the curve of her back." How skimpy of a bikini are we getting, huh?

She growled dangerously as she felt his hand crept lower." Stop it, you pervert."

Steven just smirked as he lifted his hand back up. That lecherous fox smirk that he only showed her.

"I promise that my intentions are as 'pure' as the lily-white of your clothes." 

Connie arched an eyebrow looking at her yellow polo, black denim shorts, and orange kicks. "What white are you talking about?" She implored.

The alien royalty squeezed the college sophomore bottom. "The thin warm cloth underneath." He whispered into her ear, making her fume with annoyance, bashfulness, and made just a wee bit of an exciting impression… Despite her pouting with puffed blush crossed cheeks and steady brows.

"How the hell do you know?" She questioned, grabbing his wrist and clenched tightly, making the 'big gem on campus' fall to his knees in slight pain.

"Ow, ow, ow! I promise I didn't peek at you while you were getting dressed today."

"But you did peek at me." She arched an eyebrow.

"On accident." He pleaded, " We both know I would never peep on you."

"Now, Steven..."

"Not without an escape route."

Connie took a moment to consider it, but in the end, she decided he was right.

Steven always had a damn way to run away. Not like when they were teens, and she would easily catch and punish him for his transgressions against all womankind. However, they were more innocent, like giving her (not-so unwanted) pecks on her cheek or complimenting her physical growth.

It was the reason her betrothed became her bane before becoming her friend and crush.

Though his actions couldn't be helped, it was ingrained in him. The gem race was very liberated when it came to physical appeal, appreciation, and affection and saw all forms as beautiful. From the first (of what would become semi-normal) time she visited his home planet, it quickly became apparent to her that kissing, touching, and 'raunchy' commentary was commonplace among Homeworld. A lot of sensual and carnal PDA was everyday stuff for gem kind. 

All except fornication in all its forms. 

That was considered divine as gem fusion but way less lax—the ultimate show of reverence for one's unique being. Even stories of one’s actual sexploits were to be kept between partners, no matter how many there were; neither monogamy nor polygamy took precedence on Homeworld.

She let his wrist go with an unamused hum, opting to hold his hand to keep it from wandering.

”Let’s go, my perv.” Connie sighed as she led him further into the store, towards the dressing rooms. She was nearly closing the door behind her as she entered, turning and facing him, hiding with the plywood entrance. "So, against my better judgment, I'm gonna go into the dressing room and wait for you to bring me back some swimwear," Connie informed, blushing. "I need you to take this seriously, ok? No games at all." She muttered.

Steven gasped, placing three fingers on his chest as if he was an offended southern Bellé. "Why madam, I do declare that I will be at my most critical. After all…" He caressed her cheek with a smirk on his face, "the chance to decorate you in my taste doesn't come along often." He grinned as he interlaced his fingers together. "I can see you now in...Hehehe! Oh yes..."

Looking at his bottom lip gnawing, nearly crossed eye blushing expression of perverse elation, Connie almost regrets asking for his advice and help but, there is a reason for that. "Can you not imagine whatever you are imagining and help me?"

He looked up at her pouting profile and smirked lovingly before kissing her forehead. "You're more tempting than anything I can imagine." 

She took a deep breath, rubbing the back of her left calf with her right foot, and idiosyncratic behavior towards surprising affection and praise.

"⁵Just...Stay away from the skimpy swimsuit from earlier."  She warned, burned cheeked as she closed the door behind her, "Himbo hubby."  rubbing her forehead, where the warm sensation of his lips lingered, she grinned. The feeling of pride In her chest.

"Ok... Let's get to business."

Three minutes later, Connie was stripped of her clothing and her pride as she looked at her reflection. Bare to her body and her insecurities. She didn't feel Charming? Girlish? Soft? Cute?

She was never called cute or adorable. No... Words that described her was strong, tall, mature, robust, and built, which was right.

She was six ft by the time she was 16 (she's 6'6 now), always been athletic; being an army brat on an army base until she was 12, strenuous exercise was more than just a habit; it was a lifestyle. Combined with tennis and martial arts, it was easy to understand why her body was built and cut as it was. She had 'mercenaries muscles.' A body made for battle, yet she was 'blessed' with the curvy hips and noticeable bust of her mother's bloodline.

The thing is, she didn't hate her body. She just wasn't privy to the attention she got from it. Most guys were intimidated.

Most girls…' intrigued' to say the least, and then there were some who 'swore' she was 'transitional.' People she affectionately referred to as transphobic bastards.

One cause she was born, lives and will die biologically and mentally as a woman, no matter how 'masculine' she supposedly acts; and more importantly, being trans isn't wrong.

"The scars don't really help either." She mused as she scanned her nude form little scars from her active lifestyle on her stomach.

"I think they give you character, Berry." Steven voiced from behind the door, surprising her enough for her to jump.

"The hell?! How did you get done so fast?!" She nearly shrieked as she turned to the door...Which now had a few swimsuits hang on the knob, " Steven...Did you peek at me?" 

She was greeted by silence.

"Accidentally," 

She gave a slightly exaggerated sigh at his guilty tone to hide the smile on her face. "Really? You don't wanna see me in the buff?"

She could already see the thousand-watt smile on his face.

"Wait, are you saying I can?"

She had to bite her tongue from laughing at his eagerness, "No, sit and wait." She scoffed out a chuckle when she heard him moan, downtrodden. Taking a look at the group of bathing suits in the knob, she went to see which one she definitely will not wear.

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

Steven sat in the pink chair in front of the dressing rooms, legs and arms crossed as he waited for his beauty of a betrothed model for him. He knew she wasn't crazy about her appearance, but he couldn't get enough of it.

The fact Connie tower's him by a whole nine inches. Her 'jacked,' pear-shaped body with its hypnotic curves, especially around her bust, hips, thighs, and butt. Blazing deep-set onyx eyes with thick brows, thin cupid bow lips, her slightly narrowed and flat nose, and loose raven hair in a half-braided ponytail that reached her broad shoulders. An amazing amazon made real. 

Of course, her physique was only part of why he was smitten to what humans would call near 'perverse' moments, strange since earthling takes sex for granted, to the point of making multiple websites about it for profit. 

Planetary cultural differences aside, Connie's physicality was just a complementary mirror to her character. Strong, bold, unique, and mesmerizing. No wonder why Connie steals every room she walks in when she wants to or not. He couldn't help but snicker tenderly at the thought of her before tenderness gave a slight way to hunger at the thought of her in a swimsuit.

"Steven...Can you come here?" 

The hybrid looked with a bit of concern and curiosity at the brown hand waving and shy voice coming from the dressing room.

"Hmm?" He stood and walked to took the gold sprayed knob of the plywood in his hand.

"With your eyes close!"

That made his eyes widen, but he followed her request, closing his pink eyes before entering and closing the door behind him. "You ok, Ni'?"

"I...I need you to promise to be honest with me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just promise. ok?"

"Hmm...I'm opening my eyes."

"Wait. I'm not.."

"...HMM..."

Connie looked towards him in shy withdrawal, holding her left arm, and biting her lip adorned in a blue bikini. The top looked like a cage neck crop top that clipped in the back, and the bottoms were high-waisted with an extra band that crossed around her navel. It was sexy, to say the least, accentuating off all her curves and prominent muscle, flattering her breast, thighs, hips, and butt, without showing too much; it was made for her.

"Well?" She asked, looking at his stare but getting no answer, feeling her cheeks heat in marooned embarrassment. "Is it that bad?"

"Adorable."

Connie's eyes widened, "A-Adorable?" She pursued her lips, looking down at herself. She wasn't used to being called that. 

"Yeah... I mean, yeah, it looks sexy..but it really brings out your softer, sensual charms."

"I...I.." her nose flared as she fought the bubbling feeling in her chest. " You're... You’re not just saying that, right?" She rubbed her left calf with her right ankle.

"I wouldn't lie about this." Steven raised his right hand in a promise.

She crossed her arms, her mouth in a side pout," So...I'm cute in this, then?"

"Are you fishing for compliments?" Steven teased, getting a raised brow look of astonishment from his betrothed

" I..No!" She crossed her arms below her chest, looking away, pouting with puffed blush crossed cheeks and steady brows.  

 Before turning towards the hybrid, just as she was about to attempt to make her point, she was caught off guard by his hand gently but securely grabbing her chin and leading her to move her face up close to his, their nose tips gingerly touching.

It wasn't the first time he did this, and it always made her feel a bit meek. Never unpleasantly, though.

"You're always cute."

The feel of his warm lips sandwiching her top lip with popping clips was new.

New but welcomed. 

[suckmysupernatural]

I Got You - Chapter 1

Word Count: ~1300

Pairing: Professor!Dean x Reader

Warnings: alcoholism, shitty boyfriend

Summary: Y/N is used to dealing with her drunk boyfriend, Brandon. That is, until returning to college after a five year sabbatical. Y/N decides to take a fun history class and she ends up meeting Dean, or rather Professor Dean. 

A/N: I am so stoked to share my first series!! Thank you to @emptycanvasposts for betaing every chapter. Tune in the next couple days, I’ll be posting all 9 chapters within the week. Happy Reading!

Series Masterlist

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

You couldn’t help but be nervous. It had been over five years since you stepped foot on a college campus. 24 doesn’t seem that old to restart your education, but everyone around you looked fresh-faced, and it made you feel old, tired. But, you weren’t going to let anything stop you this time around. You were going to get your degree, get a great job, just like you had always planned. 

You had survived two classes already that day, English Literature and Statistics, and now it was time for your history class. You were excited about this class, unlike the other three that you were taking. It wasn’t some basic U.S. History bullshit. Walking into the classroom, coffee in hand, you survey the room. 

There were about 25 chairs, desks arranged in a semicircle facing a whiteboard. There was a small table in front of it, clearly for the teacher. There were about 13 students already in seats when you walked in, choosing to sit at the edge of the table. You liked being up close; it helped you focus and not have the temptation to look at your phone. 

By the time class began, about 20 of the 25 seats were filled, and there was no sign of a teacher. A couple of minutes passed as people started to chat with others next to them. The door swung open and a man sauntered into the room. 

He must’ve been your age, maybe a few years older. He was incredibly handsome, with a strong jaw and emerald eyes. He wore dark jeans and a grey henley with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. A pair of square-framed glasses tucked into the collar of his shirt. In one hand he held a laptop and in the other a cup of coffee. At first, you figured he must be another student. That was, of course, until he set his things down on the front table and faced the class. 

“Evening, class. Welcome to Mythologies and Monsters. I am your professor, Dean Winchester. You all can call me Dean. I am way too young for anything else,” the class let out a small chuckle at his joke, “I trust that you have all looked over the syllabus, if not I suggest you do so before the next class. Today, we will just make introductions, say a little about ourselves. The class is a small one, and we are stuck together for 16 weeks. Might as well make some friends.”

Dean pointed at the person across the circle from you, letting them go first. Once it had gotten to your turn, you knew that you were the oldest in the room, the second being 19. It wasn’t upsetting, but something to make a note of. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I am 24, and this is my first semester back at college for five years. I am a Creative Writing Major, with a minor in History. I decided to take this course because I like writing science fiction, so learning about different mythologies can help my writing in the future. That’s about it,” you smile at the rest of the class. Dean nodded before finishing up.

“As I said before, I’m Dean. I am 27, an Aquarius. Um… what else… well, this is my favorite course to teach. I would rather talk about monsters and gods than the founding fathers. I am a pretty easy grader, so lucky you guys. Just show up, chat, get an A.” Dean coughed, standing from his seat on the table. “Well, that was fun. It’s the first day, so get outta here. I will see you all on Wednesday.” 

Before you could get up, you felt your phone buzz. 

Hey babe. Won’t be home for dinner, work stuff. Sorry.

You sighed; this was so typical of Brandon. At this point, you didn’t know if he was actually at work or out with his buddies. All you knew was that he stayed out late most nights, and you hadn’t gotten laid in five weeks. 

“You alright, Y/N?” a voice bringing your eyes away from the disappointing message. You looked up to see Dean. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. See you Wednesday,” you smile, grabbing your things. He simply nods, smiling back at you. Damn, that smile was intoxicating. You couldn’t think that way for many reasons. You were in a committed relationship, and he was your professor.  You quickly left, making your way to the student parking. 

Making dinner seemed pointless, as it was just you tonight, so you grabbed a burger and some fries. It always sucked, going home to an empty apartment. You and Brandon had lived together for about two years now, but most of the time, it was as if you were alone. 

You made your way up the stairs to the fourth floor where you lived. If you were going to have greasy fast food, you might as well forgo the elevator. You got to your apartment, opening the door to be met with darkness. Of course, he wouldn’t leave a light on. Not like you had asked him a million times already. 

You spent the evening on your couch, eating not only the take-out but also a pint of ice cream. Binge-watching your favorite show, you ended up passing out on the couch. 

It was around 2 AM when you woke up to knocking on your door. Shuffling your way over, you looked through the peephole to see Brandon. Opening the door, he stumbled his way in, reeking of tequila. 

“Ugh… seriously, Brandon?” you roll your eyes. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it annoyed you that he couldn’t even get the key in the door. 

“Oh, whatever… buzzkill,” Brandon slurred before making his way to the couch, passing out almost immediately. You rolled your eyes again. You always frustrated yourself on nights like tonight. Why were you with him? Why wouldn’t you just walk away? You were too afraid to admit the truth to yourself; you were afraid of being alone. 

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

Wednesday came quickly, and you once again found yourself walking to Myths and Monsters. You stopped at the coffee cart; exhaustion showed clearly under your eyes. You had spent most of the night before arguing with Brandon. He had come home wasted, yet again, this time trying to get you into bed. You had been so furious, saying that he needed alcohol to fuck you. The fight went on for hours. You got in line, trying to fight a yawn. 

 “Long night?” you turned around, seeing your professor had just gotten in line behind you. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” you replied with a small smile on your face. 

“I can’t do evening classes without a cup of coffee. I’ll start drifting off half-way through the lecture,” Dean chuckled at himself, “you the same?”

“Yeah, caffeine is my acceptable drug of choice,” you nodded, “Let me guess, you drink your coffee black?” 

“How’d you know?” Dean cocked his head. 

“You seem like the type, although I bet you sneak a frappe every once and a while,” you laugh.

“Shhhh… don’t tell anyone,” he winked, “what about you? Latte mochaccino-whatever?”

You let out a laugh. “No. Just two creams, three sugars.” He simply nodded, and before you knew it, he had moved in front of you. 

“Coffee black, and another with two creams and three sugars,” Dean said to the barista. Your eyes widened, not even realizing the line was down to you. Dean turned back to you, two steaming coffees in his hands.

“You sneaky son of a bitch,” you say in disbelief, taking the coffee Dean offered you.

“Well, I am a professor, we tend to be pretty smart,” Dean chuckled, taking a sip of his drink, “let’s go, don’t wanna be late.”

You both headed into the classroom, where you took your seat. Dean put his things on the table again, facing the class. 

“Evening people. Today we are gonna talk about the Aztecs…” 

[floralguccistyles]

Long time no post! Things in my life have been crazy, from health problems with both myself and family members, to the deaths of both my grandpa and my cat, and work/school has been insane. I hope y’all forgive me and I hope this makes up for it. Let me know what you think!

wildflower :: chapter three

...and brings you flowers

Considering my morning started with having to deal with a customer whose key card didn’t work to get into their room, I could assume today was going to be a rough day. 

Things only continued to spiral downhill when I had finished getting the key card situation handled only to walk into the kitchen and find the coffee machine was broken. One of the chefs jokingly told me to make myself a cup of tea, but I think he got a little scared when my lower lip jutted out and started wobbling in frustration. I wasn’t going to cry, but that didn’t mean the tears wouldn’t stubbornly well up behind my eyes. 

If that wasn’t enough, on my break I had stubbed my toe on the corner coming around from checking up on one of the rooms. I had sworn very, very loudly in front of a family of four with two kids under twelve and the parents had glared at me. I hoped they had the decency to see that I was having a bad day and wouldn’t tell my supervisor. 

All I wanted to do was curl up in bed with a good book, a rom-com playing in the background, and maybe some soup. 

My day was only made worse when I saw Violet walking through the lobby doors as I was leaving. 

“Great,” I muttered under my breath, letting out a huff of irritated breath. She had her book bag thrown over her shoulder, holding onto the strap on her shoulder so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t break. “What’re you doing here?” I asked in a whisper, not wanting my boss to hear me talking to anyone the way I was talking to Violet. Unfortunately, my boss Clara was an only child and wouldn’t understand the sister love-hate bond Violet and I had. 

“Nice to see you too.” Violet looked frustratingly put together, as she always did. She had definitely sucked up the good looks that had obviously skipped the poor middle child (me). Her long hair was curled delicately and though she didn’t wear much makeup, she had never needed it. She had eyelashes models would kill for. “I was wondering if we could go get coffee or something.”

“Coffee? We don’t do coffee.”

“Christ, Rose, is it really that much of an inconvenience to hang out with your sister?” she asked incredulously, rolling her eyes at my reluctance. “I thought we could talk, hang out, get some coffee out of it. It’s not the end of the world.”

I had obviously done something to piss off whatever higher being existed because the icing on the cake to my terrible day was dealing with Violet’s snark. To simply stop her from complaining (because she was world-class at it), I sighed. “Fine. But you’re buying.”

“You’re the one with the full-time job!”

“Do you want to get coffee or not?”

“I’m regretting my choice now,” Violet said simply, but gestured towards the door of the building. She had an old car Niall had actually helped her find when she had started college, so we piled into it. I didn’t know what coffee place she was taking us to, but I decided I didn’t care. I hadn’t had any coffee this morning, and I was in desperate need. Plus, if Violet had a hundred dollars to make on the bet with Lily and Niall, she had enough money to buy me a four dollar cup of coffee.

She pulled into a little coffee house that was close to the campus Niall worked at. I wondered briefly if he frequented it when he worked. When we walked in, the smell of coffee beans hit my nose and gave me a small reprieve from the terrible day. “What do you want? Their caramel stuff is really good.”

“Whatever you get is fine.” Though Violet had questionable taste in most things, her taste in coffee was impeccable. She nodded and walked to the bar to order while I found us a place to sit, close to the window in case I needed to zone out and have something pretty to look at if Violet got too annoying. When she returned, she set my coffee in front of me and took a seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor and making the both of us wince. I took a small sip of the coffee (something caramel, as she had suggested) and instantly felt ten times better. “This is the only good thing to happen to me all day.”

Violet rolled her eyes, mumbled something about me being overdramatic underneath her breath. “Lily thinks I need to apologize.”

“I think so too.”

“I don’t.”

I gestured to the coffee shop. “Then what’s the point of this?”

“You bit my head off when I was trying to explain last time. I was hoping you’d sit and actually have a civil conversation with me about things.” When I didn’t respond, just gestured for her to continue, she did. “I didn’t get you the psychologist’s number because I think you’re pathetic or that you can’t handle shit. I got it for you because no woman should ever be propositioned for sex and it’s absolutely disgusting that the prick tried to do some sort of quid-pro-quo and got nothing more than a slap on the wrist. And if I’m feeling that, as a third party, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling about it. So I got you her number in case you wanted to talk.”

“But you didn’t ask me beforehand. You went behind my back.”

“Because that’s what people do when they care about you, Rose!” Violet exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Christ, if I thought it would be this much work, I would have just saved myself the trouble. I just think it’s shitty he’s getting away with it, so I thought maybe you’d want to talk to someone. It’s not a problem that you can’t sleep without someone there, but don’t you think you need to analyze why? Especially because you never had a problem with it before. And you’re still paying too much money for rent in a flat you don’t even live in anymore.”

There was no point in arguing with her because she, frustratingly, wasn’t wrong. It was shitty that Kent was getting away with it and I probably was stupid for paying money for an apartment I wasn’t staying in. But I had gotten that trademark Fairbrough stubbornness, and I wanted to handle things my own way, as I had always done in my life.

“I appreciate it and can understand where you were coming from.” The words felt like lead on my tongue because I was a prideful person. “But I honestly don’t think I need to talk to someone. If I do think I need help, you’ll be the first person I’ll call.”

“We both know that’s a lie. You’d sooner call Lily or Niall before you’d call me,” she replied in a snarky voice, taking a sip of her latte and staring out the window.

I didn’t bother correcting her. 

“Look,” she said after a couple of moments, all of which were spent sipping at our drinks and not talking to one another, “will you just take the card? You don’t have to do anything with it, but it’ll make me feel better if you just take it.”

“Fine. But only because you bought me coffee.”

When I returned home to Lily’s flat, the psychologist’s number in my bag, I toed off my shoes and flung myself onto the couch. I wouldn’t nap because then sleeping tonight would be even more difficult, but I did just close my eyes and rest there for several moments while the bad day crashed over me. Distantly, I heard the sound of Lily’s front door swinging open and groaned out to her, letting her know I was on the couch.

“Rosebud, you okay?”

I turned my body around at Niall’s voice, nodding my head slightly. “Hi, Niall. Where’s Lily?”

“One of her clients called. They’ve got to meet her at the prison.” He moved my feet, sliding his body underneath before he deposited them back on his lap. 

“I had the worst day,” I answered his question a little late, sighing out as he gave me sympathetic eyes. “I think I might meet with my landlord next week. My lease is up next month and...I mean, I’m basically living here. I just don’t know if I want to let it go yet. It was the first apartment I rented on my own. And I don’t know if Lily wants me around forever…”

“Lily will let you stay with her as long as you need, you know that.” He reached forward and started massaging my calf, causing me to close my eyes sleepily underneath his touch. “Why was your day bad?”

“People at work. Then the coffee machine was broken. Then Violet came in.”

He laughed, but it was faraway. I was slipping into unconsciousness, and I knew if Niall didn’t stop massaging my leg, I was going to drift off. “You’ve got to stop,” I told him, pulling one of my legs away to poke him with my toe.

His hands hesitantly left my other leg. “Why? Uncomfortable?”

“Too comfortable,” I corrected, shaking my head. “I don’t want to nap and have a shitty night of sleep tonight.

“Just nap, Rosebud. You look like you need it. Do you work tomorrow?”

I shook my head, because thankfully I had tomorrow off. 

“Then, c’mon.” He moved my feet again and stood up, holding out a hand for me to take. I groggily grabbed it in my own, allowing him to pull me to my feet and lead me to my room. I flopped myself onto my bed and smiled as he tucked me in, patting down the blankets so they would stay put. It was only when I was underneath my covers that I realized how much the day had taken out of me. Any morning without coffee always exhausted me, but meeting with Violet had just done me in.

“How was your day?” I asked sleepily, reaching out and lacing our fingers together. He squeezed my fingers. “Are you feeling a little better from the sexual assault situation?”

He sighed. “I’m never going to feel good about it, Rosebud. The fact that any of my athletes could do that to someone...it tore me up inside.”

I decided Niall needed a nap almost as much as I did. I patted the spot next to me, inviting him to rest with me on the other side of my bed. He sent me a small smile, pushing off his shoes from his feet and lowering himself onto my bed, over the covers since he didn’t get nearly as cold as I did. 

“Rest with me,” I requested softly. “We could both use the sleep.”

He stared at me for a few seconds. “You’re one of a kind, Rosebud.”

I smiled, snuggling closer to him. His arm came around to rest on my waist, pulling me closer to him until my skin was pressed against his skin.

We must have only napped for an hour or so, but I woke up before Niall did. He was knocked out onto my lavender pillow, a tiny bit of drool sneaking out of his open mouth. At least he didn’t snore as much as I apparently did. His entire body was curled, crunched up like even in sleep, his tension wouldn’t leave him. I realized when I stretched that our legs were slightly tangled together, his hand still on my waist. My skin was warm where his fingers touched.

Niall was truly, unfairly attractive. Now that I could look at him without the awkwardness of him realizing I was staring, I could easily admit that to myself. I had always known Niall was a handsome guy, but he was always unattainable. He was Lily’s. I had no business thinking he was attractive.

But his brown hair was fluffed on the right side where it pressed against my pillow, and he had an adorable sleeping face and I admitted to myself right then and there that Niall Horan was beautiful. The fact that he basically belonged to Lily didn’t change that, and it probably never would. 

“Stop staring at me,” he said softly, his lips curling up at the corners.

I jumped, not expecting his voice since I still believed he was in the middle of sleeping. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that. How’d you know I was staring?”

“I felt in my soul that there was a pair of beautiful big brown eyes on me, and look at that,” he said, opening his own beautiful big eyes and grinning, “I was right.”

“You’re full of shit, is what you are.” But I found myself leaning back down on my bed and quietly taking in the silence with him. Silence was never uncomfortable with Niall like it was with other people. “Thanks for napping with me.”

“Hopefully it made your bad day a little better.”

“It did.”

My phone buzzed on the nightstand and I sleepily reached for it, reading the text from Lily.

Getting dinner with Carmen. We’ve both had a shitty day and have to discuss some things about the case. Feel free to use anything in the fridge for dinner tonight!

“Want to go get some food?” I asked Niall, showing him the text from Lily. 

“Sure. I can go pick up some Nando’s, if you want.”

I groaned, leaning my head into his shoulder. “You are my knight in shining armor. The wind beneath my wings. An angel among us mere mortals.”

“You’re more dramatic than usual today. The chicken pita like usual?” He stood from the bed, readjusting his shirt that had been slightly wrinkled in our nap. As he ran his hands through his hair, I found myself distracted by his forearms, which were showcased by the rolled-up sleeves he was sporting. I’d never really noticed Niall’s arms before, but they were as gorgeous as the rest of him.

Had I mentioned how unfairly beautiful he was?

“Yes, please. I think I have some soda and ice cream. I can make us some floats?”

“You’ve got root beer?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I think so?”

He laughed at my uncertainty, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head. “Alright. I’ll call in and go grab it really quick. See you in about thirty.”

“Thanks, Niall!”

“Anything for my Rosebud.”

I took the time he was gone to tidy up around the apartment a little. I wasn’t a messy person by any means, but with my bad day, I had left a little trail of Rose-messes on the couch and in the foyer, where I had deposited my shoes without a care in the world. The last thing I wanted was for Lily to come home and see my mess and decide she didn’t want me living with her. It was bad enough I still hadn’t found the necklace she had given me. Niall had scoured his place trying to find it, so I wondered if I had drunkenly taken it off at the bar that night with Niamh and Pat. Leaving her apartment a mess just felt like another strike against me. 

Niall returned about forty minutes later, ringing the doorbell because his hands were full of food. He grinned as I opened the door, reaching out his arm to hand me the food in the Nando’s bags. It was only after I had the food in my arms that I realized he was carrying another bag.

“What’d you get?” I asked, kicking the door shut with my foot as soon as he walked into the apartment. I set the food on the counter and got my phone out. “How much do I owe you? I can Venmo.”

“Put your fucking phone away,” he said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “I got you something.”

His hand dipped into the bag at his side and pulled out something green and leafy. It looked like flowers, but I couldn’t see any blooms. However, when he handed them to me, I could suddenly see the tiny little buds at the end of some of the stems. “Rose buds for my Rosebud!” he exclaimed happily. “I know you were having a bad day, so I thought—oof!”

His breath left his body when I crashed into him, hugging him around the waist so tightly I thought I might pop him like a balloon. I was embarrassed to feel tears well up in my eyes at the sweet gesture, but the truth was, he had already made my day ten times better just by hanging around. And no boy had ever bought me flowers before. 

“Don’t cry,” he said when he pulled away, giving me a smile and wiping underneath my eye with his thumb. “They were supposed to make you smile.”

“You’re just…” I trailed off, unable to find the words to perfectly describe the boy in front of me. “You are everything,” I decided, pulling him back into my arms, content to just hold him there for a little longer.

He chuckled, his breath stirring the hairs on my head. I felt him squeeze my shoulders, reminding me that this was real and he was here. “Not everything,” he argued softly, “just someone who cares about you.”

~

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

I nodded towards Niamh, who was currently freezing her ass off outside of my apartment. We had met up with my landlord to discuss me not living there when my lease was up. However, every time I thought about giving up my own little apartment, the first big purchase I had made as a working adult...it filled me with dread.

“You know you’re welcome to stay with me for free, Rose,” Lily added. She had found out Niamh planned to accompany me and had invited herself. It wasn’t a problem, since Niamh and Lily got along fairly well, but after Lily’s recent schemes with Violet to get me in to see a counselor, I was a little wary of going through with this while Lily was here. Mostly, I didn’t want her to see me burst into tears and then turn around and make a plan with Violet to kidnap me and take me to the therapist. “You don’t have to give up your place.”

But I did. I hated staying there at night, because I felt an uncomfortable crawling on my skin, like Kent was watching me somewhere. It was irrational of me to feel that way, but it didn’t stop the fear when I was alone at night. “It’s a waste of money,” I replied, and wondered if Lily and Niamh could hear the reluctance in my voice. “Giving it up is smart.”

“You want to at least go inside and start packing some things up?” Niamh asked. I could hear her teeth chattering. It wasn’t particularly cold outside, but Niamh always ran a little chillier than the average person. 

I probably should. While most of my stuff was at Lily’s now, it would still be nice to go in and see what things I still had in my apartment. The pretty jewelry holder my grandmother had given me was there, along with some shoes that I didn’t wear everyday. The orange lamp my mom had given me for my college dorm was sitting on my nightstand, with the cute little pink mosaics on it that I loved. But seeing that stuff would make me sad, especially because I didn’t want to give up that little space yet. 

Just because something was smart and right didn’t mean it was easy.

“No, I’m fine. Let’s just go to lunch.”

They shared a look with each other, but luckily didn’t push. Niamh because she wasn’t that kind of person, and Lily because she still felt bad about the whole Violet thing. 

Niall and Pat were meeting us for lunch, effectively making me the fifth wheel. However, if it meant I got my money, Niall could join us for every meal he wanted to; Pat was fun to have around. Niamh called an Uber to the little deli she often frequented when she was done with work and when the driver pulled up to the restaurant, Niall and Pat were already sitting outside.

“Morning ladies,” Pat said happily, pulling out the chair next to him for Niamh to sit. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. Niall had two open seats on either side of him, so I slid into one. “We already ordered your food.”

“You know my order?” I asked Pat, raising my brow. 

“No, but Niall does.”

I gave Niall a surprised look. Sure, he knew my Nando’s order because he usually picked it up for Lily and I, but I assumed he had only committed Lily’s order for the deli to memory. “Thanks, Ni. Did you get your usual roast beef?”

“You know me well,” he said, smiling. “I also got you some orange juice.”

Orange juice was my comfort drink. I liked having it when I was sad or nostalgic. When I gave him another surprised look, he shrugged.

“I know seeing your flat probably made you upset, so I figured you’d want some orange juice.”

Smiling softly, I reached over to give him a one-armed hug. I caught the tail end of a look that Niamh and Pat gave one another, their eyebrows furrowed as if they were trying to figure something out. They did this often; I joked that they were so in-tune with one another that they were of one mind. Before I could ask them what their looks meant, however, the server was setting down our drinks and food. Niall had been correct in my favorite sandwich, a turkey with Swiss cheese and extra oil and vinegar. He had also switched out my fries (or as he called them “chips” and playfully rolled his eyes when I said it wrong) for sweet potato fries, which were another weakness.

“Thanks, Ni,” Lily said when her own food arrived. She gave him a small peck on the cheek and I swore I saw dollar signs flash before my eyes.

There was something else, though. Something ugly that clawed at the front of my chest. I didn’t know what it was, but I’d never felt that way before, especially around Lily and Niall. I took a bite of my sandwich to distract me from it.

“How was the flat?” Niall asked.

I tried not to flinch at the thought of it, but a sour expression must have taken over my face. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry, Rosebud. I know you’re sad about leaving it.”

It was stupid to be getting so worked up over nothing but brick and wood, but I had put my all into making that little apartment feel like home. The canvas art that I had purchased at a little family-owned gallery hung perfectly above the tiny little fire place. Lily’s apartment didn’t have a fireplace for me to hang them over. Then there was the macrame plant holder that I had bought on Etsy that made me smile whenever I woke up to it because the sun from my window was always shining on it when my alarm went off. 

It was the first place that had been all mine. I didn’t mind sharing things with Lily, and I didn’t even mind sharing places with Violet. But that apartment had been Rose Fairbrough’s and no one else’s. 

It felt like I was losing a part of myself. 

Niamh seemed to notice the expression on my face and quickly changed the subject, prattling on about something else to keep the group occupied. I shot her a grateful smile. Freshman-year-me sure got lucky with Niamh as a roommate, and twenty-four-year-old-me was lucky that Niamh still wanted to be my friend. And through Niamh, I had met Pat, who never made me feel like a third-wheel when we all hung out. Though Niall and Lily were my people, Lily was my sister and Niall had been Lily’s best friend first. Niamh and Pat were, like my apartment, my own friends that I had made myself.

“I promised Violet I’d take her home from school and go shopping with her,” Lily said, looking at her phone after we had all finished eating. Her eyes caught mine. “I’m assuming you don’t want to come.”

I think I would rather have thrown myself off a bridge, but I didn’t tell Lily that. “I actually went to coffee with Violet earlier this week, so I’ve filled my quota.”

I felt better about denying this outing with them when Lily’s eyes lit up. “You guys got coffee this week? That’s wonderful!”

“It was fine. No big deal.” I had gotten free coffee out of it and Violet had only talked about the therapist for the first five minutes, so the trip actually hadn’t been as terrible as I had expected. 

“That’s a huge deal,” Lily said, smiling widely. “We’ll have to do another sister night soon.”

Niall covered his laugh with a cough when he caught the look on my face.

Lily said her goodbyes, kissing both mine and Niall’s cheeks before she was off. Niamh and Pat only stayed a couple more minutes before they followed behind Lily. That left Niall and I at the table by ourselves, finishing up our lunches.

“What’s on your agenda for the rest of the day?” he asked, giving me a charming smile. He collected our trash and deposited them into the bin, and I strangely watched his legs move as he did so. 

“Just hanging at the house. You?”

“Meeting with one of my athletes. He’s got an idea for eco-friendly sport equipment and he wants to run it by me.”

My eyebrows raised. “Wow. That’s incredible.”

“Yeah, I’m excited to hear about it. You need a ride home?”

I nodded and he led me to his car, a modest Toyota that he had bought as soon as he got the job at the college. When I slid into the passenger seat, I noticed something hanging from his rearview mirror.

“Hey! You found it!” I said excitedly, leaning forward and touching the tiny butterfly charm.

“Oh yeah, I did. I put it up there this morning to remind me to give it back to you. I like having it there. Makes me feel like you’re watching out for me when I’m driving.” He gently removed it from his rearview and handed it to me with a smile. 

“Thanks. Help me put it on?” I unhooked the clasp and wrapped the two sides around my neck. His fingers on my skin made me shiver, but I filed the reaction away for a time where I could dissect it later. 

He didn’t pull his hands away for several moments. I felt his breath on the back of my neck as one of his fingers softly poked at a spot on my flesh. “Hey,” he said softly, “you have a birthmark here. It’s shaped like a tree.”

“You’ve never noticed?” I asked, trying my best to clear my throat. My voice sounded suddenly throaty, like I had something caught in it. 

He chuckled, pulling away enough to have me feeling like I could breathe again. “I think I learn something new about you every time I see you, Rosebud. It’s impossible to know all of you.” I felt the car engine rumble as he started the car and pulled away from the curb.

“You know me better than most people do.”

“Yeah?” he asked, reaching out and tapping my knee. I found myself smiling at the gesture. It was so...Niall. 

“Yeah.”

And it was true. Niall knew me better than nearly everyone in my life, except Lily. The fact that he knew me better than Violet and my parents was something I held dear to my heart. It was just impossible to not unveil your soul to Niall. He was open and honest and caring. The world needed more people like him.

Too quickly, we were pulling up to the apartment. I wasn’t quite ready to leave, but I knew he had the meeting with his athlete and probably had to get going. “Thanks for finding my necklace.”

“Of course, Rosebud. I know how much it means to you.”

I thought about what he said, about feeling like I was with him when he was driving. Without another second to think about it, I unhooked the rose necklace I had worn to lunch today in my other necklace’s absence. “Here,” I said softly, leaning forward and wrapping it around his rearview mirror. “So I’ll always be with you when you’re driving.”

His finger gently touched the charm, and a slow smile spread across his face. “A rose to help me think of my Rosebud?”

“Always.”

He chuckled, and in a move that surprised me, pulled me over towards him so he could press a kiss to my forehead. “One problem, Rose. I’m always thinking about you. A necklace doesn’t change that.”

[my-arlington-academia]

Cliffany part 2

O-kay, and that’s it! I don’t know if I’ll write a continuation tbh since it was just a silly little idea that came out of nowhere. (Although I did have some ideas for more!) I haven’t really been active on my fanblog lately so it’s not like it’ll make much of a difference though haha. By the way, I’m thinking about making my blog more "Dulcet-oriented" rather than just SE. I hope you guys don’t mind? Recently, I’ve been getting more and more into Black Tarot! So expect my blog to change a lil 🔮🕯🌌

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

It had been a couple of days now since Tiffany’s last interaction with Claire, and while she was still ignoring her like before, Tiffany’s efforts in doing so had increased. The moment she spotted her in the corner of her eye, she would move at a faster pace, as if running away. Was it guilt after all? No, she just didn’t have the energy to deal with Claire’s annoying and unnecessary empathy. The empathy that she knew she didn’t deserve which made her feel even more frustrated towards Claire.

All she should be worried about right now is getting more followers on Instaglam, not avoiding a nobody like the plague. On that note, spring was coming soon, the flowers started to blossom and the days were getting longer which meant... that the "cottagecore" tag on insta would go trending soon, no doubt! And of course, living on the Arlington campus as one of its students, this gave Tiffany the access to its beautiful garden. Although honestly, she only ever went there to take pictures and this time wasn’t any different. She had prepared some tea sets and dresses for the occasion, all of which she would throw away once spring went away along with its "trends."

Carried by her confident footsteps, she walked to the garden. That confidence was only a facade though. She knew exactly what kind of people and who in particular went to take strolls quite often in this goddamn garden. But hey, it was 7pm and the sun would soon start to set. Knowing that Claire always arrives 15 minutes in advance to any meeting and most likely always wakes up at 6am, there was nothing to be worried about. Chances are, she was either doing her homework before going to bed like a goody-two-shoes or watering her weird-ass plants. Tiffany always had the horror of seeing these at Raquel’s parties. It just didn’t fit at all with the rest of what was going on in the room and ruined the whole "party" vibe.

In any case, there she was, searching for a good spot to take pictures and set up a fake picnic. That basket filled with different colored blankets, tea sets, biscuits, tea and a pie was way heavier than Tiffany had initially thought. Maybe she really should’ve asked for collab pictures with Trisha from the fine arts department. She didn’t really like her but when it came to follower count they were surprisingly close, although Tiffany was still number one of course. Still, if she had asked for a collab they could’ve carried those heavy props together.

After finding a good spot next to the pond, Tiffany set everything up in an aesthetically pleasing manner and got down to taking the pictures. She was taking different shots to post them one by one throughout the week and give out the illusion that she was taking those the same day she posted them. She was ready to upload the first one, call it a day and go back to the dorms without touching any of the tea or cakes. It’s all just useless calories anyways. As she was putting the tags on the picture, she started wondering what were the names of those flowers in the background.

"Ugh, fuck. What are those orange shits called again?"

"Marigolds."

"Ah right, thank y-"

Tiffany immediately snapped her head back. This annoyingly gentle voice could only belong to one person.

"...What the fuck, Claire. Where did you pop out from?!"

There’s no was she was there the whole time, right? It’s true that Tiffany could get lost in what she was doing once she was focused but it wasn’t to the point where she became completely unaware of her surroundings.

"I came by a few minutes ago... Y-you looked so invested in what you were doing that I didn’t want to bother you! I didn’t mean to pry."

Well, Tiffany could always upload those damn pictures from her room. Claire’s arrival just meant that it was time for her to leave. However, seeing that Tiffany started packing up her things, Claire panicked thinking that it’s her fault. Which was in fact, her fault... in a way.

"O-oh! You’re not going to finish your picnic? I’m so sorry, I’ll just leave! Throwing all of this good food away would be such a waste-"

"Are you fucking dumb?"

Did she not get that this was all only a set-up for taking pictures? It was obvious that Tiffany didn’t have any intention of eating or drinking any of that. Not to mention that after everything that happened the other day, she was still not scared of approaching her?

"I don’t give a damn about the food, it was just for my social media accounts you dumb bit- ... dimwit. I was already done anyway so you don’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m leaving."

"I see! T-then maybe I can help?!"

Help? What did Claire even know about- Actually, on second thought. This whole "cottagecore" shtick was a great fit for Claire. She probably already had all of the things Tiffany bought last week for those pictures, even better and more authentic-looking ones probably. This was maybe the one and only time Tiffany would let Claire "help" her. But from her point of view, she was mostly just using her.

"Hm. Is that so? How can you help me then... Claire."

"Wait just a second! I’ll be back right away!!!"

She ran immediately towards the dorms. Well, she'll probably bring a bunch of random stuff. In the end, Tiffany was really torn between the idea of staying and waiting for who knows how long and the idea of leaving right now. Surely, Claire would make a hilarious expression when she’d realize that she was played with and abandoned. While trying to laugh it off, Tiffany accidentally remembered what happened a few days ago, along with Claire’s crying face. Damn... Okay, fine. She’ll wait for her but only because it would be annoying if she bawled again like a damn toddler.

And so she waited until, from the corner of her eyes, she saw a girl with a pink dress running towards her. That girl, of course, being Claire. She carried a picnic basket with her too, but much bigger and more practical. For half a second, Tiffany thought that Claire actually looked maybe, just maybe, a little bit pretty. She erased the thought in a hurry, covering it with harsh words as usual.

"Wh-why did you change your clothes? You think I’m gonna take pictures of you?"

"Ah, no, well..."

Claire looked at the beautiful picnic set-up and the cyan dress Tiffany was wearing.

"I just wanted to fit in with the rest of what you put up, I guess. Also, don’t you think that we kinda match? I brought some of the cookies I baked and my favorite teas and tea set. I think mine will look better with your picnic blanket! Uh- N-not to say that yours looks bad!!!"

She was trying so hard to make herself likable that it was painful to see... and kinda cute. God, Tiffany was really hating her thoughts today. She was just going soft because of Claire’s aura or something. Again, this was definitely the first and last time she was letting Claire help her with anything. I’d be bad if she turns completely brain-dead and clueless like her.

"...Whatever. Show me what you got. I’ll decide if it’s good enough."

Claire was pulling everything out of the basket one by one. Everytime, better and better items were pulled out after the other. Her cakes and cookies gave off a "homey" feeling which was more fitting with the aesthetic rather than Tiffany’s store bought patisseries. Claire was staring at her, wide-eyed and excited.

"W-what do you think, Tiffany? It looks good, doesn’t it?!"

"Uh. Yeah, it’s fine, I guess. I’ll take a few pics."

That was a lie. This looked so much better than the try-hard bullshit Tiffany had done. She was good at riding on the "trend wave" but Claire was a natural when it came to this one specific thing. Tiffany was trying to look as poker-faced as she could so as to not show her satisfaction, but clearly, her apparent enthusiasm for each shot was  betraying her. Sometimes, she would accidentally take one with Claire in the shot and ask her to move.

"Hey. You’re ruining the picture with your ugly fac- dress. Move to the right."

Before Tiffany could even do anything about it, Claire was already pouring some tea into 2 cups.

"Woah woah woah, put the teapot down. I didn’t agree to this."

"But...This is a kettle, Tiffany. Not a teapot."

"Oh, shut it!"

Claire gave off such a dejected face that Tiffany, once again, felt like she was kicking a poor puppy to the ground. She held back on going off on a rant.

"But we’re already here and the weather is so nice! It would be such a shame not to use any of this at all..."

Claire looked around, observing this beautiful setting, not to mention, the sun was finally starting to set. Going home right now would be like an insult to the utter beauty of this scene, it almost looked like it came right out of a fairy tale picture book. Without mulling it over any further, Tiffany took a sip out of her cup.

"I’m only doing this because I feel compelled to, got it?"

Claire’s eyes lit up nonetheless.

"Alright! Please try out my cookies too!"

Tiffany contemplated them for a second... is it true that home-made stuff is more healthy? Surely, that’s just a myth, right? A cake from the store and a home-made cake will have about the same amount of sugar in them regardless of who made them and how. Well, she did see Claire share her food from time to time with her friends and while she would never admit it, it is true that she was a bit curious about trying them herself. What was the last time she had eaten anything "home-made"? Or did it ever even happen?

"...Okay, whatever. I bet they taste shitty."

Tiffany reluctantly took a bite... It was surprisingly really delicious!

"It’s bad."

"R-really?"

As much as she wanted to lie about it, she couldn’t after seeing Claire make that dejected face again.

"Uhhh. No, um. Hmm... On second thought, it’s pretty average. It’s okay-ish."

Tiffany really hated herself right now. Being mean has never been this hard before. She couldn’t wait for the moment where they would be done with this ridiculous play-pretend and go back to her room. She tried drinking and eating as fast as she could without making it look like she was in a hurry to run away from this awkward situation. And God, it was so fucking hard...

Unsurprisingly, they were both pretty silent the whole time. Well, it wasn’t like they had anything to converse about or things in common. Right as Tiffany was about to get up and pack up her belongings, for real this time, Claire spoke up. Nervously fiddling with the hem of her dress.

"Um. So you know, I have something to confess to you, Tiffany."

Oh God, not now. As much as Tiffany found this timing annoying, she couldn’t help but poke fun at that poor choice of words.

"Confess? Oh my, so you like me in that way, huh? That explains everything."

"Wha- N-no! That’s not it! I mean, realistically speaking, t-that would never even happen!"

Was she implying that she could never like someone like Tiffany? Well, Tiffany herself was the one who brought this up but she was a bit offended at that statement. Regardless though, the way she was trying to deny it so hard was kinda cute. No. Not cute at all! If this went on, Tiffany would really become crazy before the end of this day.

"Last time, you said that I was only being kind towards others to profit off of them and I didn’t say anything but... that wasn’t true at all! I always wanted to help you because I thought that you needed it, I swear. Not to satisfy myself! ... Well. Except maybe..."

"Except...?"

"T-today. I admit that I kind of had ulterior motives."

Now that piqued Tiffany’s curiousness right away. Suddenly, she didn’t want to leave as much anymore if it meant that Claire would finally admit that she did some things for her own benefit. Why was it? Did she want to post a picture of herself on Tiffany’s Instaglam to fish for compliments, knowing that she had a lot of followers? Claire hid her face behind her hands and muttered a few words.

"I... wanted you to warm up to me."

"...Huh?"

That’s it? That was it? Claire’s ulterior motive was for Tiffany to "warm up to her."?

"So like, you want us to be friends or some shit?"

"Oh no! Not necessarily that far, just... good acquaintances!"

Is she stupid? There’s no way that she genuinely thinks those "motives" are bad. Tiffany sighed in exasperation.

"Listen. I’m just really tired right now, I don’t have the energy to assimilate all the shit you’re saying. I’m packing all of this up and going back to the dorms."

In complete silence, they gathered all of their belongings and walked to the dorms while keeping a fair distance between the 2 of them. As if to say, "we’ve got nothing to do with each other." Surprisingly, Claire didn’t try anything anymore. Didn’t even wish for a "good night" or a "good evening" which was weird to say the least. Tiffany tried to ignore it and when she got back and unpacked all of the props, she noticed something that didn’t belong to her. One of Claire’s lunch boxes with cookies in them and... a note?

Here’s my number just in case ;3 Please give me my lunchbox back once you’re done eating the cookies!♡

"...Your note makes me wanna barf."

So that’s why she didn’t try anything. That sneaky little... she must've slid that into the basket when they were packing. She already knew that Tiffany would eventually be forced to talk to her again... as if! Who says she’ll return it? She can just throw all the cookies away along with the box... Or so she thought. Tempted, she took a bite, then another one. And another one. Her diet was ruined for sure now. Damn you Claire and your stupidly great cooking skills, as if you needed another skill to be better and more perfect than you already are. Tiffany put the box away, trying to forget the delicious taste and smell. Back to Instaglam she goes. Uploading the picture while adding the "marigold" tag on it. Going through the pictures again, she noticed that some of them had Claire in the corner. She was thinking of deleting them but... well whatever. She can just crop her out later if needed. Her dress looks pretty so it’s fine even if she does appear in the pictures. All we see is a bit of her hair, as long as her face isn’t visible, it’s okay. Yup. It was totally not because Tiffany was slowly starting to feel something towards the girl she was trying so hard not to get involved with.

[ghost-in-the-hella]

J: “Join me for a swim?” with PriceMarsh, because I can't get enough of this ship.

Some soft pricemarsh for these troubled times. Enjoy.

---

Kate says a silent prayer before she approaches the woman sitting on the beach. She suspects that Chloe’s not the praying kind, and given the way people in Blackwell and around town never seem to have a kind word to say about her she’d be surprised if anybody else spoke to God on her behalf. And maybe Chloe prefers it that way. They haven’t talked about religion much in the few weeks of their budding friendship, but she’s pretty sure that Chloe is an atheist. “What kind of God would take my dad away when I was only fourteen?” For some people, tragedy brings them closer to God. For others, it pushes them away. But Chloe doesn’t make fun of her for being religious (unlike most people at Blackwell) and Kate doesn’t try to dissuade her from her own beliefs, so they get along beautifully. Everyone has their own path to walk in life, after all.

Kate’s path leads her toward Chloe’s slumped back and bowed head as she sits in the cooling sand and the fading light.

Chloe’s head doesn’t turn as Kate approaches, even though Kate’s footsteps in the sand aren’t exactly silent. It does raise slightly in acknowledgement, however, and Kate assumes that’s as close as she’s going to get to a greeting tonight. 

Kate’s not sure how long Chloe’s been sitting there, staring out at the slow waters of the bay. Chloe had texted her three times after midnight, which Kate of course didn’t see until she woke up at eight. Kate’s texted her five times since then at careful intervals so as to not seem too concerned, and Chloe hasn’t responded to a single one of them. She even tried calling Chloe despite phone calls not being a standard part of their friendship at this point, but she didn’t try again after it went immediately to voicemail. 

Kate’s never regretted not learning to drive so much before. It’s been sort of nice, actually, since Chloe’s got her truck and loves driving. Kate not wanting to ride the bus everywhere has been a good excuse for both of them to advance their friendship beyond “casual but amiable acquaintance” to “person I actively go out of my way to spend time with.” Today, however, not being able to drive has been a serious hindrance. It’s hard to search for someone when you’re reliant on small town bus routes and schedules. Once she started to really worry about Chloe’s silence and start looking for her, it took her nearly three hours to track her down at the beach.

She stops and stands next to where Chloe’s sitting in the sand. “Hey,” she says evenly, as if she hasn’t been clawing her hair out trying to find this woman half the day. 

“Hey,” Chloe answers without looking at her.

“...I got your texts.” Chloe doesn’t respond, so Kate continues, “I didn’t see them until I woke up; I’m sorry. I wasn’t ignoring you.”

Chloe nods thoughtfully, processing this. “My battery died. Didn’t want to go home to charge it.”

Kate can’t blame her for that. “Is it okay if I sit with you?”

Chloe turns to her then and looks at her with those clear blue eyes. It doesn’t seem fair that such beautiful eyes should have to hold such sadness. The light isn’t great, but Kate’s pretty sure she sees a smudge of a bruise beneath one, and that makes her stomach twist all the tighter. “Sure, whatever.” Chloe trains her eyes on the bay once more, but Kate can still feel them piercing her heart. 

Kate tucks her skirt around her legs carefully as she settles by Chloe’s side. The sand is damp and the warmth of the day is mostly gone from it. She looks at the woman beside her. She’s not wearing her beanie for once. She’s wearing short sleeves and her pale, too-thin arms are covered with goosebumps. Without even thinking, Kate removes her cardigan and drapes it over Chloe’s bare shoulders. Chloe glances at her in barely masked surprise. Kate thinks for a moment she’s going to object, but she just wraps her arms around herself and tugs the borrowed cardigan a little tighter around her shoulders.

Kate feels like she should say something, but Chloe breaks the heavy silence while she’s still trying to piece her words together. “Kinda late to come to the beach. Sun’s almost down. ‘Most everyone’s gone home.”

“I didn’t come for the beach. I came for you.”

Chloe’s brows lift then furrow. “Why.”

Because when she woke up to Chloe’s texts and saw how long ago she’d sent them, Kate had almost immediately gone into a panic spiral. Because Kate had texted and called and couldn’t reach her. Because Kate was terrified that Chloe was hurt and had nowhere to go and no one to talk to. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You weren’t at the junkyard or the diner, so I thought you might be here or maybe the lighthouse.”

“Not a whole lot of places to go in this town,” Chloe says, and maybe it’s a trick of the non-light but Kate would swear that her expression softened when Kate told her she’d been looking for her. “I used to come here all the time,” Chloe continues. “My dad used to take me and my friend Max here every weekend in the summer. When we got old enough, we’d take the bus by ourselves and stay here all day. We practically lived in the bay.” She chuckles softly to herself. “She - Max - used to tease me I was going to turn into a mermaid because I spent more time in the water than on the land.”

Kate can picture that. Chloe’s got long arms and longer legs, built for swimming. Her hair wouldn’t have been blue when she was a child, Kate assumes, but Kate can imagine how it would look now: blue and purple locks flowing with the waves, fanning out around her head like a soft halo. The vivid reds and greens and blues of her tattoo extra bright against the pale of her skin, all shimmering under the water and glittering with reflected light. Long fingers cupping brackish water, lean body moving through the bay like she was born to do nothing else. “Punk rock mermaid,” Kate says a bit dreamily, already picturing how she would draw her. 

Chloe huffs a small laugh. “Nah, not when I was a kid. I was a pretty big dweeb if you can believe it. Super into science, major anime nerd, drew comics, all that stuff.”

Kate can believe it, actually, but she keeps that to herself. 

The smile that had been growing on Chloe’s lips fades away. “Rach loves swimming, too. After Max left - her family moved to Seattle; same day as my dad’s funeral, can you believe that shit? - I didn’t go swimming for a long time. Probably for the best; I would’ve just drowned myself.” She picks at the cuticles of her chewed up fingernails fretfully and Kate suppresses the powerful urge to pull her into a comforting embrace and stroke her hair like her father has always done for her when she’s upset. “But Rach is a Cali girl, so even though our bay’s nothing compared to the Pacific she just has to go swimming. Like, constantly. Day and night. The girl’s blood is half salt water, I swear.”

Kate’s got this anxious bubbling in her stomach that she doesn’t know how to quell. She knows of Rachel Amber, but she doesn’t know her. She went missing last April, three months before Kate moved into the dorms. Everything she knows about Rachel she knows from the unavoidable gossip in the dorms, the graffiti scattered around town - some of it doting, most of it unrepeatably vile, and Chloe. 

She actually met Chloe because of Rachel Amber, oddly enough. Or, more precisely, she met Chloe because Rachel Amber went missing. One day Chloe happened to be hanging up missing person posters around campus while Kate was putting up flyers for the abstinence club, and when Kate saw what Chloe was posting (when she saw Chloe’s eyes) she had offered to help her distribute them. They’d gotten to talking as they worked, and by the time the posters were all hung they’d exchanged numbers.

Kate owes this friendship (this crush) to Rachel. And Rachel’s been missing for five months now. No matter how many posters they hang, no matter how many prayers Kate sends up for this lost girl to be found, she’s been missing for almost half a year. Chloe still talks about her like she expects to see her coming around the corner any minute now sometimes. Kate doesn’t know whether encouraging Chloe’s hope does more good or more harm at this point. Women who go missing for this long, beautiful young women like Rachel Amber… Kate wants to have faith in Rachel’s safety, but her mother’s been telling her horror stories about what happens to girls like her since before Kate was even old enough to understand.

“So we go swimming together a lot. Not now, obviously. But… yeah. Total punk rock mermaids.” She scoffs lightly, but Kate can hear the sorrow in her laugh. “I… I haven’t gone swimming in months. Not since she…” Chloe sighs. She shakes her head and tries to sound annoyed rather than heartbroken. “Missed the whole fucking summer. Now it’s probably too cold to swim. She’s probably been off surfing in Cali all summer, and I’ve just been staring at the bay like she’s coming in on the next boat. How pathetic is that?”

“It’s not pathetic at all. You miss your friend.” Kate reaches out a tentative hand and is relieved 

when Chloe accepts her touch without so much as a flinch. 

“I miss the bay,” Chloe says suddenly. “I miss the way it felt to just run out into the waves and not give a fuck. I miss feeling weightless and small and like if I swam far enough I could step out into a pirate’s treasure cove, or on some forgotten island, and start a new life. I miss feeling free.”

Kate’s never been swimming in the bay. She spent her summer here ingratiating herself with the local parish, learning the bus schedule, breaking in her library card. She stands carefully, dusting the sticky sand off her skirt. 

Chloe looks at her askance. “Heading home?”

Kate shakes her head. She reaches out a hand to Chloe. “Join me for a swim?” Kate asks, and her voice hardly trembles even though she’s beyond nervous. 

Chloe stares at her like she’s sprouted a second head and then she laughs in disbelief. “Are you for real?”

“Very much so.”

“You got a bathing suit on under your clothes, Kit-Kat?”

“Do you?”

“No.” Chloe tries to leer, but it’s so uncertain it falls apart before it can look properly devious. “You askin’ me to go skinny dipping? I thought you were supposed to be a prude about that stuff.”

“I’m not a prude,” Kate protests, her face reddening. “But no, I’m not asking you to go skinny dipping. Or at least I’m not going skinny dipping; you can do as you please.” She slips off her shoes, and good Lord, this really is a terrible idea, isn’t it. She’s not dressed for swimming in the slightest. Her blouse is white, and her skirt is, well, a skirt, but it’s too late to back out now just because she’s had a sudden attack of logic since Chloe’s already taking her hand (and oh Lord Chloe’s hand is so cold and so strong and so perfect) and hauling herself up to her feet.

“Gonna be a weird ride back to campus,” Chloe says with a grin that’s building in its certainty. “Wet jeans are hell to drive in. You know my heater doesn’t work, right?”

“I’ve ridden in your truck before, haven’t I?”

“True that.” Chloe removes Kate’s cardigan and folds it with surprising politeness by her shoes before tugging off her boots and dropping them haphazardly into the sand. She empties her pockets onto the pile of clothes: a crumpled cigarette pack, some loose change, a parking ticket, a key, a lighter, her phone. Kate places her handbag beside them. “You ready to do this thing?”

Kate nods quickly before she can chicken out. “Are you?”

The smile that lights up Chloe’s face is the most radiant thing that Kate’s ever seen. “Hella ready.” Chloe reaches out her hand again, and Kate takes it. 

The water is cold, and swimming in a skirt is just as difficult as Kate feared. It’s completely worth it.

[thegreatestwaffle]

Trigger warnings:

Death, mild swearing, blood

Valentine's On The Beach

What's the most romantic thing you can think of? Is it a dinner date at a nice restaurant? Enjoying the sights in town? Perhaps it's a lovely evening at home, snuggle next to the one you cherish most. For me, it was walking on the beach during the sunset. Walking with someone you adore while the sunshine glistens down on the two of us. The calm waves and warm breeze leaving you relaxed and happy. No need to worry or panic as you're left with the feeling of romance as the two of you embrace each other. 

It was something I had dreamed of since I was a little girl. I didn’t need a prince charming to sweep me off my feet, or a queen to arrive at my door promising me a life of ease and beauty. All I wanted was to be with someone who would stand on the beach and watch the sunset with me.

After years and years of yearning, well, I finally got that magical moment on the beach. I was seventeen when it happened, I was young, hopeful, and full of these romantic ideas. It was February- if my memory serves me correctly, it was the seventh- of my Junior year, and my friends and I were hanging out at our local beach. It was a cool evening as we all lounged around making small talk. 

I had three close friends at the time; Jannet, Kevin, and Aaron. That evening, Jannet and I were each sitting on one side of Kevin as he played his guitar. As we waited for Arin to arrive, we relaxed and watched the sunset. I was daydreaming of being held by a faceless figure when I heard Aaron calling out to us. Kevin paused his playing as we all turned in Aaron's direction. My gaze was immediately drawn to the girl next to him. Her hair was long and wavy, a light brown color that swished with the breeze. Her skin was pale and creamy as it glistened in the sun. She wore a jean jacket over a white tank top with a black mini-skirt and leggings. My breath hitched as I took in her beauty. I continued to stare, not even realizing that they were standing in front of us. 

“Hey, guys! I planned to be here sooner, but I thought I'd bring a new friend along. This is Marissa, she just moved here.” 

Aaron gestures in the direction of Marissa who waves shyly. I was the first to greet her, awkwardly I might add. As we shook hands, we locked eyes for a moment before looking away quickly. I sat back down and invited her to sit next to me, which she accepted. The rest of the evening went on, all of us gathered around the campfire Jannet had started earlier. Night came and we all kicked back, listening to the soft crashing of the waves as Kevin lightly strummed his guitar. Jannet was the first to speak up.

“So, where you from?” Jannet inquired, resting her head on the palm of her hand. 

“Oh, um, I’m from a few states over, uh, Utah to be exact,” I noted how Marissa ducked her head slightly as she spoke.

“Jeez, that’s a hell of a ways from California. Speaking of which, how are you liking it down here so far? Settling in alright; got to see any sights yet?”

“Oh, I’m doing fine, thank you for asking. Um, I actually haven’t got to see much yet, but based on Arin and you all here, I can say that I definitely enjoy the people here.” We all chuckle lightly, and once again Marissa and I lock eyes for a moment.

We quickly look away, and I blush a bit this time. Arin begins to chime into the conversation, " Yea, actually, Marissa's my new neighbor. I saw her caring staff and I stopped by to help. We chatted for a bit and asked if she wanted to come to hang out with us at the beach."

"Well, we're glad to have you here. We're always excited to see new faces," Kevin said as he looked up from his guitar.

" Yeah, and I could show you the best spots on the beach to find shells or we’ve got this great spot where we go swimming. That's only if you like that stuff of course," I ramble and stutter, trying to hide my nervousness. I flushed slightly at the chuckle Marissa gives, but it soon turns into a blush as I realize she smiles softly at me.

"Yea, that sounds nice, thank you, " Marissa shyly looks at the ground as she speaks, a soft pink appearing on her pale cheeks.

We continue talking for a bit, but soon decide to retire home. Aaron offers to walk home with Marissa While Janet gets in Kevin's car so he can take her home. My day is fall as nurses every move as she stands up and prepares to leave. Erin and her both say goodbye to me, and Marissa gives me one more smile before she leaves. I was left standing alone on the beach as I wrapped my arms around myself. I closed my eyes and let the moonlight wash over me as I thought of Marissa and her beautiful days.

A few days go by and discover that Marissa has a lot of the same classes as me. On her first day at a high school, I showed her around the campus and invited her to sit next to me during our classes together. At lunch, she sat with me, Jannet Kevin, and Aaron. Since I didn't have any classes with my other friends, I spent my free class time with her. We grew close, of the sorts, I learned about some of her favorite things and found them to be the same as mine. Each day that passed, the more and more my feelings crew for her. And no time, I had invited her to my house, using the excuse that we could study for our history test the next day. 

That day, it was warm and sunny, as well, I was positively glowing as I rushed home. I expected her to arrive at 4, so I frantically began picking up my house. And the short amount of time between getting out of school and before her arrival, I'd cleared out all messes in the house. My parents are out of town on "Valentine's Vacation", so I have the house to myself. Just as I was fiddling with a vase full of fake roses, I heard a knock at my door and I quickly ran over to open it.

A white smile spread across my face as I greeted Marissa. She gave me a small but polite small smile as I welcomed her inside. I led her into my kitchen and turned to offer her a drink.

"You want anything? Soda, water, chips, whatever I can grab it for you," I try my best to keep my town casual as I leaned against the counter.

"Oh, no thank you. I appreciate the offer though!" Marshall spell case she pulled books out of her bag. She neatly laid out her laptop and notebook on the table as I grabbed a soda from the fridge. Sitting down next to her, I began pulling out my stuff for my bag. For a while, we do not work in silence, my day is occasionally glancing up to watch her. Finishing my homework and sitting there awkwardly, I worked up the courage to start a conversation.

"So the Valentine's Day dance is coming up this Saturday, you, uh, going with anyone?"

Marissa paused in her writing and looked up at me, "Oh, uh, yeah, well no, I mean, I am going, just not with anyone. I figured I might drop by and try to talk to people. I might just end up standing alone in a corner like I normally do, but hey the social interaction might be good for," she laughs nervously as she goes back to her homework.

"Well, you can come with me if you want," at this, her brown eyes light up as she looks at me in surprise.

" I mean, like, we can hang out together. With the others, I know Janet excited, and Kevin playing on a stage that night, though, I don't think Aaron will be there." 

"How come? Does he not like dances? I figured he would since he seems like a social butterfly."

At this, I sighed some, "Yeah, he is, it's just that he went through a pretty bad breakup. He and his ex work together for like what now," I throw my brow and concentration, "four or five years now."

Marissa set aside her homework, the concentration shifting to the story.

 "That's so sad, what happened? Is he doing okay?"

" It's been pretty rough, but I think you'll manage. He's a strong guy so I don't doubt he won't bounce back."

Watching Marissa Brown at this, I decide to change the subject.

"So, you got a dress yet? If not, we can go looking for one tomorrow."

Once again, she looked at me surprised, yet blush blushing as she did so.

"Oh, I really have one, but thank you! That's very kind of you."

" Yeah, no problem, anytime you need anything I'll be here,'' I replied awkwardly.

 "Well I guess it's time for me to go," she gives me a small smile as she stands up, "my parents might get worried."

"Thanks for coming over, this has been nice," I said as I get up and head to the door. In the living room, I open the door for her and as Marissa steps out she turns to me.

"Thanks for today, I'm really excited about the dance now. I really can't wait to see you there."

"Yea you too! I'll see you tomorrow," I cheerfully say as she leaves. As I closed the door, I could feel my face heat up. The rest of the evening was then spent picking out the "perfect dress and makeup" for the dance.

The rest of the week went by, both simultaneously feeling like the fastest and slowest week. Before I knew it, Saturday it arrived. I spent the day preparing for the dance. Hours and hours were spent making sure I looked nice. I wore a pine green formal dress that had a fleece skirt and gold flower pattern on the torso.

Despite never being any good with heels, I wore open-toed, platform heels that were the same color as the dress. My heels made me feel tall, my dress slender, and the dark green eyeshadow making my eyes light up. To say the least, I felt stunning and beautiful. 

The dance was to begin at six so about five-thirty I walked out of my house and got into my car. I drove to the flower shop in town and picked a bundle of tulips, Marissa's favorite flower. Then, I headed to the high school. A few of you people were already there as I arrived. I saw Kevin's van in the parking lot and figured the others were here already.

"Hey guys, need any help with anything?" I said whole climbing on stage.

"Nah we got it, thanks though- Oh! You look so pretty!" Jannet excitedly exclaims as she envelops me in a hug.

"You too! That purple looks awesome on you. Jay's gonna love it." Jay was Jannet's at the time and eventual husband.

"Aww, thanks," Jannet looked at my hands and gasped some, "Who’re the flowers for?"

My face heated some as I stumbled to explain myself. 

"Oh, well, Marissa said that she was coming tonight and didn't have anyone to come with so I thought she might like them."

Kevin looked up from his guitar, a smirk on his face as he spoke, "You're smitten with her aren't you?"

"No, well yes, but really no. You understand what I'm trying to say right?" I spluttered as I spoke.

"Oh yea I do," he said as he looked back down at his guitar, " you adore her."

We all laughed a bit, then I realized, 

"Hey, where's Aaron?"

"Oh, he said he refuses to come. To heartbroken, because tonight he planned to do something special with Erica," Jannet said exasperated as she looked around.

"What did he have planned?" Kevin asked, his eyebrow quirked up at Jannet.

"He said he was going to go take her to our swimming area and set up a "romantic dinner and swim" night or something. Now, he's going to sit at home on his ass and sulk."

"That sucks, I wish he was here so we could cheer him. I talked to him before I felt the house and he seemed happy about something. I asked what was up with him and he said he'd tell me later. So, I think he'll be good, if not a little heartbroken," Kevin gave me a reassuring smile as he spoke.

"Alright, if you say so," I smiled. The evening went on and more and more people arrived. We grabbed a table and ate finger foods as others danced around us. Jay had arrived so he and Jannet gushed over each other while I looked around for Marissa. Finally, she walked through the door, looking as stunning as ever. My breath hitched as I stared, her long, brown hair shimmered under the gym lights. Her red dress, which fit snugly around her, showed all her curves, and her bright red lipstick against her pale skin made her glow.

Jannet nudged me, causing me to turn away. She thrust the bundle of tulips into my hand and told me to go greet Marissa. Quickly, I got up and walked over to her as she peered around.

"Hey, glad to see you made it!" I said politely.

"Thanks, oh, where did you get those?" Marissa pointed at the tulips in my hands.

"Oh, um, there for you actually. I figured without having anyone be with you, you might want them. I mean everyone needs something for Valentine's Day," a blush crept into my face as I spoke l. Marissa stood there surprised for a moment.

"You remember, oh my god. Thank you," after saying this, she embraced me in a hug. 

One I took, and gave, with no hesitation. We lingered for a moment, my heart racing as the seconds went by. Parting, we laughed nervously and shyly looked away.

"Shall we go to our table?" I asked, finally looking back up.

Locking arms together, she looked at me, "Why of course, lead the way." 

At the table, I introduced her to Jay and Kaleb, Kevin's boyfriend, and we all sat around talking. After some time, they were ready for Kevin on the stage. Taking a deep breath, I turned to Marissa and asked,

"Do you wanna dance?"

She paused, a glass of coke lying on her lips. Jay and Jannet looked at us excitedly. Noticing them, Marissa snapped back to focus and turned to me, "Um, sure, I'd love to."

Taking her by the hand, I led her to the middle of the gym floor. Kevin began to play a cover of Joji's slow dancing in the dark. I slipped a hand around her waist, my other related gently on her shoulder. Her hands did the same, and as she did so a tingle danced up my spine.

Our eyes locked, as they did so much it seemed, and we danced. Slow movements and nervous shuffles as we made a slow turn in a circle. Our gazes never broke, and the longer we danced, the more I wanted her close to me. Those bright red lips on mine and my hands tangled in that soft, brown hair. I wanted to hold her and be held by her. I practically yearned for it with my pleading gaze until finally,

"Do you wanna get out of here? I'd love to talk to you, in private." My voice was heavy and low, my heart racing.

"Yes," her reply was soft, airy, and if I guessed right, excited. We walked to the table and grabbed our stuff, not even waiting to say good-bye. We quickly left the gym and headed to my car. She didn't question anything, just climbed in as I fumbled with my keys.

I pulled out of the school and began to Dr. My head was spinning with the thoughts of her and all the things I wanted to say. My Daydreams were interrupted when I heard Mercy speak, "Where are we headed?"

Her words were still soft and Airy, and as I looked at her, her gaze was glossy.

"Somewhere special, I think you'll like it," I replied as my heart began to race more. 

Headlights of other vehicles through light on us, reminding me each time of Marisa's brilliance. Finally, we arrived at the beach. She stared at me, puzzled but amused nonetheless. We got out, and hand in hand we walked.

The sky was clear, giving us a perfect view of the moon as its light shimmered down, illuminating us and the ocean. I looked over, and I felt my knees go weak a little. Marissa was practicality luminescent, a shining star all on her own.  We reached the middle of the beach before I turned to her.

"I wanna show you something, down by our swim area. There's a place where only I know," I held her hand lightly as I led the way. Past clusters of rocks and dense areas of trees, we made it to our "secluded beach". Only my friends, I and then Marissa knew of it. We stopped briefly to admire the place and its beauty before moving on. I approached a series of clustered rocks, more jagged than others, and took my heels off, setting them down, I began to climb. I turned around to find Marissa standing hesitant while she stared at the rocks.

"Don't worry, take your heels off and me. The path I'm taking is safe."

She did as I said without question, and began following my lead. Finally, we reached the top and found ourselves staring at a small beach surrounded by beautiful shrubbery. I helped Marissa as we climbed down, reaching the bottom with a huff. I led her to the middle of the beach and gazed up at the sky. Marissa looked at me, and I gazed back at me. 

Before I knew it, I had her in my arms; I think I was just as surprised as she was. I tried to apologize and pull away, but she held on, and so I held on. Together, we stared at the beautiful night sky. Yet, it felt like we were the only stars that mattered. For seventeen year old me, I felt as if I had leaked and found Nirvana. 

I held her tight, feeling a wave of joy because it was the closest I had gotten to my dream. Even though it was night, I could still feel light dancing all around us, illuminating and making us shine. Taking a deep breath, I began to spill all of my thoughts and feelings. 

"Marissa, I," pausing, I took a moment to gain my composer, "When I first saw you, I was stunned. You are magnificent, a dream to me. From the first moment we looked locked eyes, I was captivated. Your beauty, charm, everything you do amazes me. I know, it's only been a few days but something about you crossed me towards you. You're wonderful, everything that I could have asked for."

Looking back, it was stupid to conjure up so much for someone I'd only known for a week. I thought I knew her, so I guess that's why I continue to put on with my speech.

" I adore you, Marissa, all of you is wonderful. Your voice sets me at ease, your eyes Dazzle like light and guide me to you. When I see your soft pink lips, I want them on mine, and every time we're on this beach, I want to hold you near me. I like you, Marissa, a lot, and I want to spend each day holding you as the sun sets on the speech, I love you."

By the time I finished, my heart was pounding and my breathing was Heavy. I'm on my past, then a minute, and Dunn Canyon on without a word spoken from her. After a few minutes, I spoke up,

"Marissa, I'm sorry I said something wrong, but can you tell me if I did? Please, just say anything. I just need to know what you're thinking, please."

I finally turned to look at her, and I was startled to find her staring at me. Those beautiful eyes that were once so bright seemed so dull and empty. Shocked by the side, I began to pull away but was suddenly pulled toward her again. Before I had time to say anything, she slammed me to the ground. I could feel the wind being knocked out of me, and all at once, I was met with shock, confusion, and fear. 

Marissa's hands, which I had yearned for her to hold me with previously, or now wrapped tightly around my throat. Now, my heart was racing for a whole new reason. I struggled, squirming in the sand like an upturned crap. A pressure group in my head as streaks of light appeared in my vision. She sat on top of me, keeping my legs pinned. My arms though were free and in my panic, I had a moment of clarity. I punched her in the nose, the contact making a sick crunching noise. This startled her for a moment, causing her to lose her grip.

I took this moment to hit her square in the chest, causing a gasp to escape her throat as she let go of me. Shoving her off of me, I started to gasp and pant as oxygen flooded my lungs. More colors appeared as I got up. Stumbling, I got to my feet and in a rush of adrenaline and kicked at Marisa's head, hoping this would buy me time to getaway. At that moment, all romantic feelings had faded and were replaced with anger, fear, and an overwhelming sensation of despair. 

I took off, only taking a glance to make sure she wasn't following. In my rush I hadn't focused on where I was headed, my only thoughts being on escape. Releasing my mistakes, I stopped, I was in unfamiliar territory, a place, not even I had. I was on a deserted beach, and I was struck with terror, realizing that no one would know where I am. I stayed quiet, hoping to hear voices or cars, but it was to no avail. Instead, I was met with a new terror, Marissa calling my name.

Her voice was friendly and playful, it made my stomach twists and I thought I was going to puke. Looking around the area frantically, my eyes landed on some dense Shrubbery surrounded by rocks. I hurried over and climbed inside, finding to my horror, a stream of water and in it, pressed against some rocks, with Aaron's body. He floated there, only a few feet from me. I shoved my fingers in my mouth and bit down, trying to suppress my screaming in tears. I closed my eyes, but it was no use, I could – and still can to this day-  picture his glassy gaze and the deep gash that lied on his forehead. For the rest of my life, I will see that image every time I think of him I see those eyes like dead fish.

A sob escaped me, and I laid my head on my knees as reality hit me. Marissa was going to pick my friends and me off one by one that day, or at least kill me and flee. At that moment, I was furious, not just Marissa, but at myself. I should have never told her how vulnerable Aaron was after his breakup. It made sense now, it was a game of pretending for her. Faking feeling sorry for Aaron, getting his hopes up at the promise of love, and luring him out here to kill him, and then she was going to do the same to me.

I didn't have any longer to think about it before I was shoved to the ground again. Once again, Marissa climbed on top of me, this time a large Rock in one hand, the other against my chest. Her legs held my arms down, rendering them useless. I didn't want to die, I was afraid, afraid that I'd have the same glassy gaze as errands. The mental image of his body floating in the water was enough to give me the push to fight. Add Marissa's Armstrong down, I used all my might to jerk my body sideways; she lost balance and missed.

I took that moment to jump on top of her. This time, using all my weight to keep her hell down. Like prey becoming Predator, I have the upper hand. As much as I hate to admit it, it felt good, to take control, to have power over her. My legs pinned hers and one of my arms held her shoulders in place. I used my other hand to fight for dominance over the rock. As we struggled, our faces brushed against each other. That pale skin I once thought of as warm was cold like ice, fitting for a cold-hearted killer.

Finally, after several minutes of struggling, I got it. I have the jagged Rock firmly in my hand and turn back to Marissa. Our gazes locked once again, beautiful brown eyes that I once would have gladly drowned in appeared cold and dark. They reminded me of the depths of the ocean, crew and threatening to pull me under Into the Depths where light didn't shine. In my hesitation, Marissa said nothing in their face held no sympathy. She seemed bizarre, like an alien, for she had no emotion at all as she laid under me.

That's what drove me over the edge, her lack of remorse soon became mine. In one fluid motion, I smashed the rock against her right Temple. At that point, I could have dropped the rock and fled for help, but my Fury had a hold of me. Again and again, I smashed the rock against her skull. Hearing her wine and groan as her head crushed, chunks of bone hair and brain smeared on my face and hands, even the pool of blood that formed underneath us didn't satisfy me. Not until her face was unrecognizable and her body went stiff in the lamp, that a deep and cruel part of me was satisfied.

With deep and heavy breathing, I sat up, the rock tumbling from hand. Trembling, I climbed off of Marisa's body and laid in the sand, curling into a fetal position. I closed my eyes and laid there as I listened to the calm ocean waves and let the soft Moonlight cover me like a blanket. I believe it was an hour or so later before I got back up, I don't remember, what I do remember, was the exhaustion I felt. My mind wasn't on as I followed my previous tracks in the sand. It's a blur, really, and unfortunately, I don't remember all the details of my way back. However, I do remember some things in a general sense.

After getting off the beach, I got into my car and drove back to the school. There, Janet and Kevin had been looking for Marissa and me because they believed Aaron to have gone missing. As they approached me, their faces were flooded with terror and someone let out a scream. The next thing I knew, I was in an ambulance and being taken to the hospital. There, I told the cops all that had happened, though at that point all of it felt like a dream. So much so that it took me three days to tell my story, this was due to the hysterical laughing and or crying I faced each time I spoke.

On the fourth day, an officer arrived and sat down next to my bed. I looked at him puzzlingly because I told him everything already.

" I'm detective Smith, there's something I want to talk to you about. During our investigation, we learned some disturbing details about Melissa," he paused for a moment, giving me time to speak, I said nothing and waited for him to finish. Realizing this he continued,

" when going through her home, we discovered she lived alone. Everything seemed normal until we reached the basement where we found a substantial amount of evidence that incriminated her in several murders across the country."

At this, my eyes widened, but I did not speak.

" in several different states, murders appeared each with one thing in common, all bodies were found floating in a body of water. We call these the Adam's Ale Serial Killings, and you appear to be the only survivor."

"How do you know," my voice was hoarse as I spoke.

"We found a series of documents detailing each crime, the victim, and method of the murder." 

At this, I turned away from him and stared at the ceiling. It was heartbreaking to know I was right deep down. I tried to justify Melissa's actions as a mental break or someone forced her to do this, but deep down I knew she was just a monster.

"Also," I glanced at the officer as he spoke, " all charges against you have been dropped since the discover of Marissa being a murder and you were acting in self-defense."

I shrugged his comment off, not caring if I went to prison, and continued to stare at the ceiling. At some point, he left and a nurse arrived to tell me my friends had come to pick me up. I changed into the clothes Janet had brought me the first night that I was there and gathered my belongings. As they drove me home, Janet and Kevin attempted to make small talk with me, which fell flat on my part. As we drove by the beach, I couldn't help but stare in wonder.

That evening, I got into my car and drove to the beach. No one was there, most likely due to it becoming a crime scene. I came upon the cluster of jagged rocks and began to climb. Without thought, I made my way to the secluded beach. I stood there, unconsciously wrapping my arms around myself, watching the sun dance across the water as it set. I thought about everything that had happened thus far and wondered what would happen after.

Soon, night approached and I stared at the Moon as it hung low in full. Eventually, I let go myself and headed back to my car. As I drove away, I didn't look back at the beach, in fact, I never went back. Something changed in me that night, I didn't feel broken or in pieces like most. Instead, I felt something shipped in my subconscious, telling me that I'd be all right.

That night, as I laid in my bed and drifted off to sleep, I was at peace. Despite everything, I knew I would be all right, and that I would move forward each day. As I slept that night, I did not hear Marisa's soft voice or see her bright brown eyes in my dreams. Instead, my dreams bore nothingness as the moonlight glistened down on my figure, promising not just the next day, but for me as well, a new tomorrow.

[let-it-raines]

Something As Stupid As Jealousy and Queso (1/1)

Emma Swan is in love with her best friend. 

It’s the most cliché thing in the world, and she kind of hates herself for it. But she doesn’t hate Killian, not at all. And maybe, just maybe, if she focuses on her coursework and her finals she won’t have time to think about his stupid blue eyes or the way he makes her smile. 

Maybe, just maybe, she’s the biggest liar in the world. 

Rating: Mature (but just barely)

a/n: It’s the 15th, so it’s time for me to wish @carpedzem​ the happiest of birthdays! Nat is such a sweetheart, and she’s so talented! Like, if you haven’t seen her artwork, I encourage you to go check it out now. She’s been the most fun to get to know, and I hope this story is everything she wanted! I think I tried to get it all in there ❤️

Found on AO3 | Here |

-/-

“Hey, are you that – ”

“Yep,” Emma murmurs, picking up her pace and flicking her hand toward the guy who’s calling out to her. She doesn’t have time for this today. She’s got to fix a paragraph in her paper, which will inevitably lead to her changing the entire thing around, and she doesn’t want to be up until a minute before midnight turning it in at the actual last moment.

One and a half more semesters of this, and then she’s free.

Well, for a little while. She’s not exactly sure what her plans are yet for after she graduates. That’s the end goal here, but it’s also not something she can focus on right now.

Paper. She’s got to focus on her paper. One track mind and all that.

“Loved the episode last night,” someone else yells. She recognizes him. He’s in her Cross-cultural Prospective class, and now she’s going to have to hide away whenever they’re in lecture.

“Thanks,” Emma mumbles, flashing him a tight smile.

There are a few more comments thrown her way as she walks across campus, and after being told by some guy she’s never met that he would gladly have sex with her, she turns from main campus and walks an extra mile out of her way to get home without having to see anyone else.

She needs coffee.

And grilled cheese.

She also probably needs some water, but that’s a problem for another time.

Oh, Mexican food might be good tonight.

The moment Emma gets home, she kicks off her sneakers, leaving them strewn across the entryway, and drops her backpack to the ground before stalking into the kitchen, turning on the coffee machine and grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter. Mary Margaret must have gone grocery shopping this morning if they have fresh fruit.

As the coffee percolates and Emma bites into her apple, she pulls her phone out of the hidden pocket in her running pants and scrolls through her Instagram. She’s got her notifications turned off so she never sees anything unless she actually opens up her app. Things get too crazy otherwise.

@KillianJones33 mentioned you in his story.

Emma huffs, and clicks on the link until she’s opening up Killian’s story. It’s a video, and she immediately knows what it is.

The asshole.

“So,” Killian begins, “as you can see here is a perfectly clean house. However, if you look down at the floor, there’s a trail of shoes, specifically Emma Swan’s shoes that she has left in every room of this damn house….except for her bedroom.”

The camera flips around so she can see his face and the shit-eating grin he’s sporting. Why is he this way? He’s so damn dramatic about everything.

“Do you think publicly shaming her will make her pick her shoes up, or am I cursed to live like this forever?”

The coffee machine beeps behind her, and Emma tosses her half-eaten apple into the trash before grabbing a travel mug out of the cabinet and pouring it three fourths of the way to the top so she still has room for her creamer.  As soon as she’s got the creamer in and has the top firmly on, she starts walking out of the kitchen and through the living room until she’s turning the corner and walking up the stairs, kicking away a pair of her heels that she wore on a date last week. Killian’s door is closed, but she knows it’s not locked.

“You are an asshole,” Emma grumbles the moment she’s got the door open.

Killian’s sitting in his bed with his back resting against the headboard. His room is obnoxiously clean. It drives her crazy. All of his clothes are in his closet, his bed is made, and there’s absolutely nothing out of place. He claims it’s from being raised by a brother in the military, but she thinks he’d be this way no matter what.

This is probably why her shoe thing bothers him so much.

“Can you clarify why I’m an asshole, love? There are simply so many options.”

“Your video about my shoes.”

Killian clicks his tongue and raises his brow before returning to looking at his laptop, fingers tapping against the keyboard. “Your shoes are a menace. You have to pick them up.”

“Why would I do that when I have you?”

“Because I’m not your maid.”

“But you hate when things aren’t clean, so it drives you crazy enough that you clean it up.”

“Is that your entire goal? To drive me crazy.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Killian chuckles and keeps typing, and Emma takes the opportunity to walk over toward his bed and climb up on the mattress, settling down beside him and taking a sip of her coffee. Why is his bed so much more comfortable than hers? “Did you go to campus today?”

“Aye.” “Were you accosted by people?”

“I had seven different women ask me out on dates.” “Really?” Emma asks as her stomach flips.

He hums. “I haven’t even seen the episode, so I’m not sure what we did in it. Have you?”

“Nope, and I haven’t checked any other notifications besides yours.”

Killian clicks around on his computer, and Emma recognizes the program he uses to make the designs for the ship he’s working on. She has no idea how any of the engineering works on this program, but the artistic design looks nice. She can leave all of the engineering stuff up to Killian.

“Well, Swan, I say we watch it and see what our dear friends did to make us famous today.”

“If we have to. But if I hear something else about my brother’s sex life, I’m going to die.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“Just play the damn video.”

“Today,” David begins in his best on-camera voice, “we’re going to talk about arguments while in a relationship and how to deal with them. Now, Mary Margaret and I are no strangers to arguments.”

“I mean, I would say we don’t fight too much,” Mary Margaret adds in.

“Well, that’s not true, is it, honey?”

“It is true!”

“Last night we got into a fight over what to have for dinner.” “David, that was a disagreement over food. That was not a fight.”

“Yes, but we’re talking about disagreements as small as not being able to decide what to eat for dinner and as big as what would happen if you and your partner realize you have differing opinions on whether or not to have kids.”

“I still say disagreeing over food doesn’t count in our segment.” “That’s because we ended up having lasagna when you wanted lasagna.” David leans over to press his lips to Mary Margaret’s. “We can have chicken tacos tonight.”

The video has a quick transition before shifting over to Emma and Killian standing the kitchen as Emma stuffs half of a croissant in her mouth all at once while Killian presses a beer bottle to his lips.

“Oh my God,” Emma mumbles, “they’re literally arguing over whether or not they argue and then telling people they don’t argue.”

“I’m sure their audience is eating it up, love.”

“Oh, I know they are. It’s ridiculous. They’re all ridiculous.”

Killian snickers into his bottle and his eyes fall to the camera.

“People like watching them sweetly bicker, Swan. I mean, obviously. It’s how they get to live in this house. It’s how we get to live in this house.”

“Yeah, but you pay rent while I don’t.” “Which I believe is nepotism.” Emma rolls her eyes. “Technically, I’m not biologically related to either of them, so can it really be considered nepotism?”

“Aye, it can.”

“Emma? Killian? Can you settle this for us?”

They both groan, and Emma buries her face in Killian’s shoulder while Killian playfully tugs on her ponytail.

“You argue,” Killian answers, “but you rarely have a heated fight. It’s always calm and collected and very rarely does it last more than a few hours.”

“Except for the fight over the handles in the kitchen,” Emma mumbles.

“Swan, don’t bring that up!”

Emma pulls her forehead off Killian’s t-shirt and looks up at him. His brows quickly move across his forehead. “It’s true, though. I thought I was going to start having two Christmases.”

“You have two Christmases now.”

“Okay, well, three if we keep talking about tha handles. Mary Margaret’s, David’s, and yours.”

“It’ll be a damn fine time.”

“Emma,” David interrupts, “stop flirting with Killian and answer our question.”

“If that’s what you consider flirting, it’s amazing you ever got married.”

“Aw, but he’s so charming,” Mary Margaret sighs.

“Here we go,” Killian grumbles. “You got them started, and it’s never going to stop. What time is your first lecture today? Ten?”

“Yep. You want to give me a ride?”

He waggles his brows. “Why, Swan, I thought you’d never ask.”

Emma slaps his shoulder and reaches around him to grab his mug and take a sip of his coffee. “You’re an asshole.”

“I like to think I’m a scoundrel and a devilishly handsome one at that.”

“Shut up, KJ.”

“As you wish, milady.”

“All I wish is for us to get out of here.”

Killian pauses the video there before looking back over to her. “Are you interested in watching the rest or are we just going to assume they’ve imparted wisdom on their loyal YouTube followers on how to have a healthy argument?”

“Nah, I’ve heard enough of that for most of my life. I don’t need to hear it now. Plus there’s the risk of the whole sex life thing.”

“Really? Because I feel like maybe you could learn a lesson or two about having a healthy argument. I’ve been the recipient of one too many lashings from you.”

“Maybe if you weren’t an asshole and showed the world me being messy then we wouldn’t have this issue.”

Sighing, Killian leans over and presses his lips to her temple. “Just pick up your shoes, darling.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Emma gets up from his bed, knocking over a pillow before standing and tugging her leggings up. “I’ve got to work on my paper. You want to get dinner tonight? I’m thinking Mexican. I’ve been craving queso for about an hour now, and I have to have it.”

“Uh, yeah,” Killian starts, scratching his ear, “maybe another night. I’ve got a date tonight.”

Emma’s fingers loosen on her mug, and she has to quickly grab it before she drops it. “Wait, what?”

“I have a date. I told you I was asked out.”

“I had a guy tell me he would have sex with me, but I didn’t take him up on it. I thought you were joking about all the dates.”

“Twas not.” He flashes her a smile, all of his perfectly white teeth on display. “Good luck on your paper, Swan. You’ll be grand.”

“Thanks, KJ. Good luck on your date.”

“Darling, you know I don’t need luck when it comes to that.”

“Well, if your head keeps getting bigger, you might. Wouldn’t want you to not be able to fit in the restaurant.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Emma nods and turns on her heels until she’s walking out of Killian’s bedroom and heading back down the stairs. She needs to get her backpack and her laptop and start working, but the determination she felt on campus has melted away. She doesn’t honestly care about school right now, is definitely in the burnout stage of the semester when it’s only halfway through, and she desperately needs fall break. That’s just…three weeks away. She can do three weeks.

She can do this paper.

And prep for her internship interviews.

And pick up all her damn shoes.

-/-

“Emma, are you going to want some of this chicken?”

“No, Marg, I’m good.”

“Have you eaten today?”

“Mhm.”

“Have you eaten since noon?”

“Um.”

Mary Margaret sighs, and Emma knows that she’s eating dinner with Mary Margaret and David whether she likes it or not. She probably should. She had some cereal this morning and then maybe that apple and…shit, she really hasn’t eaten, has she?

“I had an apple?”

“Why are you saying that like it’s a question?”

“Because I very much feel like you’re my mom right now.”

“I am four years older than you. I am not your mom. We go out for drinks!”

“You’re also married to my brother, who likes to act like my wannabe dad, so it kind of factors in or whatever.”

“David,” Mary Margaret says, placing her hands on her hips, “can you believe that Emma thinks we act like parents?”

David turns from where he’s manning the stove. “Considering Emma only lived with my mom for three years and has lived with us for four years, I feel like maybe we do have that kind of parental thing going on. Just by having her longer and all.”

“That’s horrible logic. Also, I think she knows too much about our sex life for us to be parental figures.” “Oh my God, kill me now.”

“I still think Emma should be banned from watching those particular videos.”

“Well, it comes up pretty often. It’s not like we can tell her don’t watch from minute four to minute nine because we’re talking about sex.”

David hums. “Maybe we should do that. Less scarring that way.”

“I am famous online,” Emma sighs, falling back onto the couch and closing her laptop. She’s only got one more paragraph to edit on this damn paper, but she needs a break. She ended up changing the whole thing, and it was too much. “That’s all because of you guys. I could continue on in my anonymity if you guys didn’t have cameras all over this damn place and like to include me. I have been scarred enough. I don’t need more.”

“You said you were okay with that!” “I mean, I am, but – ”

The stairs creak, and before Emma knows it, Killian’s walking into the living room. He’s got on a pair of dark jeans and a gray button-down, his favored leather jacket tossed over it. It’s what he wears all the time and is not exactly something special, but his shirt is unbuttoned more than usual so that she can dark tufts of his chest hair and the silver of the chain he wears, his mom’s wedding band at the bottom.

Shit.

Emma sits up from where she’s stretched out on the couch and desperately tries to fix her hair while her stomach tightens and her throat is doing that stupid thing where it doesn’t let air pass through.

“Oh, you look nice, Killian,” Mary Margaret says. “Where are you off to?”

“I have a date.”

David drops the pan. “Date? You didn’t tell me about a date.”

“It was a last-minute thing, and last time I checked, you weren’t my keeper, Dave.”

“I don’t care about you dating. I care about the fact that I made food for four and now we’re going to have to put half of it in the fridge.”

Killian chuckles and shakes his head. His hair doesn’t move out of place. “I think you’ll survive. See you guys in the morning, aye?”

“You assuming you’re going to get lucky?”

Air. Emma needs air.

“I’m assuming you’re all going to be in bed before ten tonight, but if you want me to wake you up – ”

“I will murder you,” Mary Margaret growls.

“Noted.” Killian salutes them before nodding his head and walking toward the front door. “See you later. Swan, don’t let Mary Margaret murder me later.”

“I’ll try,” Emma hums before waving her hand, ushering Killian out the door.

Shit, shit, shit.

“Who is his date with?” Mary Margaret wonders.

“I’m not sure. Emma, do you know?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” she croaks, “some girl who asked him out after seeing him on the show.”

David’s brow raises. “Really? Women ask him out after the show? Because we include the two of you because our viewers think you have so much chemistry and should be dating. I’m surprised by that.”

If Emma could disappear into nothingness, she definitely would. She hates talking about the damn show already and definitely doesn’t want to talk about it when it comes to this. Killian gets asked out by all of campus while she has every guy she speaks to assume she’s dating him but still offer to fuck her.

It’s a curse.

It’s also not like it matters because Emma’s an idiot who is definitely in love with her best friend like some kind of giant cliché that David and Mary Margaret would include on their show.

“But good for Killian,” David continues as he turns the stove off. “I hope it works out for him. He’s had a rough go of it since Milah.”

Mary Margaret glances over toward Emma, pity in her eyes, and Emma has never loved and hated Mary Margaret as much as she does right now. Emma’s never said a word about Killian in the whole having feelings for him regard, but Mary Margaret knows.

She always does. Some kind of magic intuition with that one.

“David, sweetie, why don’t you set the table? Include a seat for Emma because she’s eating. I’ll finish preparing everything.”

David nods and kisses his wife’s cheek, effervescent smiles on both of their faces.

That’s them. It’s not perfect. That’s what they tell their viewers, and they mean it. But it’s pretty damn good, like some kind of realistic fairytale where you have to wake up the next day after riding off into the sunset.

At least you’re waking up with the person you love, though.

Dinner is fine. Well, it’s good. It really is. The food is delicious, and she genuinely enjoys spending time with David and Mary Margaret when there’s no talk of the show or school or anything else that she’s tired of hearing about. David starts laying out Christmas plans despite it only being October, and they try to figure out her dates to go spend time with Ruth as well as Killian’s family. She almost makes a quip about Killian having someone else to bring to his brother’s Christmas this year, but that would be beyond stupid and petty.

He’s going on a date. He goes on dates all the time. Hell, she does too. She went on one last week. They never amount to anything.

Besides, who is she to keep Killian from living a life that makes him happy?

David and Mary Margaret go to their room a little before nine after helping Emma finish up her paper, and Emma grabs a blanket out of the basket before stretching out on the living room couch and turning on the television to watch a movie. She doesn’t really care what’s on. She’s mostly looking at her phone anyways because she’s absolutely and totally pathetic.

This isn’t her. She’s not some girl who gets caught up in feelings and emotions and jealousy. She’s tougher than that. Hell, she lived most of her life in foster care, and none of that was pleasant. It was whoever was biggest and strongest winning, and she’s not about to go back to being someone who is weak. She’s not going back to being the girl who Neal took advantage of.

If anyone else were inside her head, they’d tell her she was being stupid with that thought process, but they’re not inside her head.

And they’re definitely not keeping her from scrolling through Killian’s Instagram feed.

He doesn’t post that much. He’s just not very into it, but last week they went to the beach, and he’s a sucker for posting a picture of the ocean. There are a few of those, several with Robin and Will, even more with Liam or David, and then there are the ones with her. Those are the ones she takes the most time to look at.

There’s a picture of her sitting under her favorite tree on campus. It’s shady and comfortable for her back and she likes to sit there to study so no one but Killian will bother her.

@KillianJones33: If she stays in this spot long enough, I believe she’ll become one with the tree.

Not his best caption, but they can’t all be winners.

There’s another of the two of them at the beach. Her cheeks are red and her skin tan while her hair is curling into its natural state. They look happy, cheek pressed against cheek, and if she does say so herself, her breasts look fantastic there. That bikini top is a miracle worker.

@KillianJones33: Jones and Swan are at it again, and by that, I mean there’s sand in some rather intimate places. I wonder if Emma will help me out with that later.

She keeps scrolling to picture after picture, the others mixing in with the ones of the two of them, but her eyes only focus on the certain ones. Her favorite, she thinks, is one that Liam took at Christmas last year. Her hair had looked fantastic that day, mostly thanks to the ribbon Elsa had tied in it and the magic of her curling wand, and that’s the first thing Emma notices before she looks at the fact that she’s kissing Killian’s cheek while he smirks down at her, the slightest bit of blush on his cheek.

This picture is framed in her room, but it’s nice to see it this way too.

@KillianJones33: Not pictured: the mistletoe.

PS: there was no mistletoe.

Have his captions always been this ridiculous? She guesses he can’t exactly write the dirty quips he usually says. Or, at least, write them to the full extent. He might get kicked off Instagram.

Her stomach churns, the chicken obviously coming back to haunt her, and Emma quickly exits out of the app. She almost goes back to look in his tagged photos to see if there’s anything new there, but she’s not going to be that desperate. Instead, she turns back to the TV and tries to pay attention to the movie and not her phone or the clock ticking away in the kitchen.

If she chugs an entire bottle of Nyquil, she should be able to fall asleep, right?

That totally isn’t a healthy idea.

Neither are most of the decisions she’s made tonight.

But hey, she’s finished with her paper, and she probably deserves to sleep through the night.

She obviously doesn’t fall asleep easily.

Emma’s on her second movie of the night when the front door clicks before it opens, Killian walking through soon after. She doesn’t want to see if he’s brought the girl home or hear about his night if he didn’t, so she pulls the blanket up over her face and turns toward the couch, trying as hard as she can to even out her breathing. Killian is far too observant for her to half-ass being asleep.

There’s only the sound of one pair of footsteps, though, and there’s no voices talking, so she breathes a little easier than she was. He walks around and steps into the kitchen, the fridge dinging when it’s opened, and then there’s a drawer pulled. She doesn’t really know what’s happening after that, and for a moment, she thinks about letting him know she’s awake. That idea quickly dies when she hears him come closer to her and then lean down until his scruff is brushing against her temple, quickly followed by the softness of his lips.

“Goodnight, love.”

And as quickly as he was there, he’s gone, walking up the stairs and disappearing to his room.

Her heart is beating unnaturally fast. This cannot be healthy. This should send her to the hospital or something.

Slowly, she turns on the couch until she sees a neon pink post-it note right in front of her.

Swan, the queso you wanted is in the fridge. I got a large, so I fully expect you to share it with me tomorrow. Saturday lunch date as a rain check for tonight?

Her cheeks flush, all of the blood in her body rushing there, and that can’t be good when her heart is still doing unnatural things.

He brought her queso.

She’ll forget that he only brought it to her because he was on a date with another woman. That’s not important.

Nope. Not at all.

-/-

She and Killian eat queso for breakfast, and neither of them bring up his date.

-/-

Midterms come and go all while Emma’s twenty-second birthday does the same. If she were to look back, it’d all be some kind of blur where her nose was constantly stuck in a book and the only time she got to breathe was when she was running at the gym with Ruby. But she knows that it wasn’t all that bad, that she mostly has a major case of being done with this whole school thing, and that there were good moments.

That there were also bad ones too.

But it’s fine. It’s good. She’s fine, and if she minds her own business, everything will be okay.

If only everyone else would do the same.

Mary Margaret and David keep putting out new episodes, which means Emma keeps getting stopped on campus and tagged in a million things online. It wouldn’t be a day in her life if she didn’t have some girl “literally screaming” over how cute she and Killian are.

The fact that comments like that solidify the stupid, stupid thoughts in Emma’s head really don’t help her.

But she ignores them, mostly, and keeps moving on with her life.

Killian keeps moving on with his life as well.

His schedule is mostly the same. He gets up and goes to the gym, usually dragging her along with him to meet Ruby before Emma even gets a chance to brush her teeth, and then they both head home to shower and get ready to go to class. Sometimes they see each other on campus to grab lunch, sometimes not, but all in all, things go on as normal.

Except for the fact that Killian misses dinner at least twice a week, if not more. She chalks it up to studying or working on a group project he has, which seems to be never ending. There are also the days where he’s gone doing the yard work he freelances from different neighborhoods around town. Yet, he’s mostly gone at night more than usual, and while he’s never been one to be shy about his dating life in the past, Emma can’t help but think that maybe something different is happening now with Belle.

Maybe, just maybe, this is the time that’s going to be different.

She could vomit.

He’s home tonight, though, and she really, desperately wishes that he wasn’t for once.

“So,” Mary Margaret starts, clapping her hands together, “we’re going to answer your questions tonight, and we’ve roped Emma and Killian into actually sitting down with us instead of standing in the kitchen talking behind our backs.”

“Can it really be behind your backs when you have cameras set up to record us?” Emma snarks.

“Those are behind the scenes secrets, Emma. Hush.”

Emma rolls her eyes, and makes the mistake of looking across from her to see that Killian is staring at her.

He doesn’t look away either, blue eyes peering into hers, and the moment his lips curl up into a smirk, she has to look away, focusing on David and Mary Margaret.

“Anyway,” David coughs, “you all submitted questions last week, so we’ll be going through them. First, from Cara G, we have ‘what would you do if you had feelings for someone you’re friends with but were unsure of how they felt?’”

Cara G has got to be kidding her.

This is the question they start with? And this is the episode where she has to give actual input? She would rather have to retake Organic Chemistry, and that was like legal torture she paid for.

“Tell them how you feel!” Mary Margaret gushes, bouncing up and down in her seat. “Love is such a wonderful thing, and you don’t want to regret what could have been.”

“Eh,” Killian coughs, scratching his ear. “It’s more complicated than that. Sometimes, I believe, you’d rather have the friendship and be content with that than risk mentioning you want to start a relationship and lose it all.”

“Do you really think you could lose it all though?”

“I think it depends,” Killian continues, grabbing onto his chain and absentmindedly toying with the ring. “Some people can move past that if their mate doesn’t feel the same way. Others would feel uncomfortable and run from that friendship. It’s not all black and white. It’s a million shades of gray, and if Cara’s friend is someone who is close, it might be traumatic to have to risk that friendship. Honesty is often the best policy, as Mary Margaret said, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying. It can take time to build the courage.”

“I don’t think fifty shades of gray is our type of content, Jones,” David jokes.

“For all that I have to hear of your sex life, I think it might as well be. I said a million, not fifty. I know you’re rubbish at math, but there’s a bit of a difference.”

David and Killian keep bantering back and forth. It’s constant and a little petty, but eventually they do move onto other questions. Emma doesn’t hear most of them, though. Her heart is beating like a drum, and she can’t seem to focus. Killian had stared at her throughout his entire answer to the question, had barely blinked, and she couldn’t look away this time.

She can’t stop thinking about it.

Why would he do that? Why would he stare at her like that? Why the hell would that be the first question they answer? Couldn’t they have started off with something easy like good first date ideas?

This blog is the worst.

And she’s done with it.

-/-

Emma hasn’t slept more than four hours in two days.

That’s probably an exaggeration (it’s definitely an exaggeration), but that’s how she feels. She’s always thought people made too big of a deal about finals week, that it wasn’t actually as much torture as people make it out to be, and for the past three years, it hasn’t been. Hell, it wasn’t even that bad when she was working as a waitress at Granny’s and barely had time to breathe between classes.

This past week, however, has been awful.

Winter break can’t come soon enough.

(Is she always waiting for some kind of school break? Is that what her life is now?)

She hasn’t been able to focus. She looks at her notes, starts outlining and going into more detail, and then one page in she’s looking at her phone or getting up to go downstairs to get something to eat. She’s only got one final left, though, and she’s just got to power through it.

It would help if she couldn’t hear talking from Killian’s bedroom.

Belle is here, which shouldn’t be shocking, but it’s been so long since he brought someone home that Emma forgot he was capable of doing that. She has been unnaturally obsessing over his dating life for the past few months, but she forgot about this part.

It was always the worst.

And the girl he’s with is an absolute sweetheart too. She’s gorgeous and kind, and Emma is sure she’s smart. She doesn’t hate her, but she could do without this distraction when she’s waist-deep in notes for her final.

It goes on like that for the next few hours, Emma trying to study while the noise from the other room stays steady, but eventually, she hears his bedroom door open followed by footsteps leading down the stairs. It takes nearly everything in her not to get up and look out the window to see if Killian is leaving with Belle. She doesn’t though. She has the tiniest bit of self-respect left, and she really has to study. Passing is all she’s focused on right now.

(Or, at least, two percent of what she’s focusing on.)

(She’s such a liar.)

“Hey, Swan,” Killian says as he opens her bedroom door and walks in, “I am absolutely starving, and I was wondering if you want to get some Mexican. I can get it delivered if you want. I think queso is calling my name, and I know it’s always calling yours. It can power you through your last final.”

“No thanks.”

His brow arches. “No thanks? Who are you and what have you done with Emma? You always want queso.”

“Nothing,” she mumbles, looking away from him to her notes. “I’ve done nothing. I’m just not particularly interested in getting dinner with you.”

“Are you okay?”

That’s the question, isn’t it?

“Just peachy.”

“I know you’re not because you just said peachy, and I’ve never heard you use that phrase before.”

Emma rolls back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest. “Do you always do this?”

“Do I always do what?”

“Spend time with a girl, finish with her, and then decided ‘hey, maybe I’ll remember that Emma exists and ask her if she wants to get food?’”

His brows furrow as his arms cross over his chest. She definitely doesn’t pay attention to the way his sweatshirt clings to his arms. “Bloody hell. What are you talking about?”

“The queso! You brought me home queso because I said I’d wanted some, but you brought it home as takeout from your first date with Belle! Didn’t that piss Belle off? Doesn’t it piss her off that I live down the hall from you? Because I can’t seem to talk to a guy about you without him getting pissed off.”

She’s not making any sense. She knows she’s not. She just can’t seem to stop rambling and talking out of her ass. Seriously. This might be the dumbest, most confusing argument she’s ever picked.

She’s picked a hell of a lot of arguments, too.

“Ah, well.” He reaches up to scratch his scruff. “Belle and I went to Petite Violette, the French place downtown. I stopped and got you the queso on the way home. She didn’t know anything about it.” “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because you said you wanted it!”

“I don’t want pity queso! I don’t want to be an afterthought to the rest of your life!”

Killian groans as Emma stands from her chair and runs her hands through her hair, tugging at the strands. She’s crazy. She’s legitimately crazy. How the hell is she going to get out of this?

“It’s not pity queso, lass. Why do you insist on being so damn frustrating?”

Emma laughs before pointing to her chest. “Me? I’m the frustrating one? How the hell am I the frustrating one?”

Because she’s not making any sense.

“You’re making absolutely no sense right now! And because you can’t bloody see that I would rather eat queso on the couch with you than sit in nice restaurants with anyone else. I don’t want to keep going on dates when the woman I fancy lives five feet down the hallway and picks fights with me over cheese dip.”

Wait.

What?

What the hell?

“You absolutely asshole!” Emma reaches forward and pushes at his chest as her heart pounds. “You have a girlfriend. You can’t say shit like that when you have a girlfriend. Belle doesn’t deserve that.”

“Belle? You think Belle is my girlfriend?”

“Isn’t she?”

Killian’s chuckle is dark, and he turns around to thread his fingers into his hair before turning back around to look at her. “Belle is in the literature elective I’m in, and we decided we were better as friends. God, I can’t believe this is how we’re having this conversation. I just told you I fancied you, which is definitely understating it, and you thought I had a girlfriend. I’ve thought about telling you this for years, and we’re having it out over fucking queso dip.”

Emma has never felt so stupid.

And petty.

And like an absolute asshole.

It’s not Killian who is one. It’s her.

Yep. Definitely her.

She should really pick up her damn shoes.

In the back of her mind, Emma knows that she has several options here. She can either tell Killian she’s sorry and to forget about it, be an adult and actually hash whatever this is out, or she can take two steps forward and finally know how Killian’s lips feel on something other than her skin.

I don’t want to keep going on dates when the woman I fancy lives five feet down the hallway.

They can talk later.

Taking two steps forward, Emma wraps her arms around Killian’s neck, presses up on her toes, and then she kisses him.

She freaking kisses Killian Jones.

He’s mumbling something when their lips first touch, but she doesn’t hear it over the thundering of her heart. She doesn’t hear anything but Killian’s subtle gasp and the way that their bodies come together. He’s so solid. She knew that, but it’s different this way. Killian doesn’t move at first. His body and his lips are still, but then she’s being pulled even closer to him until she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. She does, however, have acute awareness of the way that Killian’s left hand is on her lower back while his right is tangling into her hair until her entire body is shivering.

In the darkness of the night, usually after she and Killian have had a day spent together, she’s let herself imagine this as if it wasn’t something forbidden by her own heart.

She’s let herself imagine being as bold as the people who write into David and Mary Margaret’s blog, telling them of how they took that leap from friends to whatever this is.

Whatever this could be.

Killian pulls back from the kiss, and for half a second, Emma’s heart drops to her stomach. But then she’s blinking and looking up at Killian as he looks down at her, his fingers still toying with her hair.

“You’re absolutely impossible.”

“I think you kind of like that about me.”

“You’ve got no bloody idea how much I love you for that.”

And then his mouth is on hers again, slowly devouring her with the tenderness of the friend she’s known for three years and the fire of someone who is acting on feelings that he, too, was obviously harboring. Her mind briefly flashes back to two weeks ago, to the two of them answering questions for the show, and Killian saying something about not wanting to risk the friendship.

Sometimes it takes time to build the courage.

Or sometimes it takes Emma picking a fight over something as stupid as jealousy and queso.

She’s not sure if she’ll ever be able to eat Mexican food again.

She’s not entirely sure that she’ll ever be able to look Killian in the eyes again after this. Such a pity. She’s always loved his eyes.

“Emma,” he growls as her hands fall from his hair and move down his body, slipping underneath his sweatshirt until her fingers touch a thick patch of hair that she knows goes lower thanks to Killian’s penchant for not wearing a shirt. “I’m afraid that if your hands go any lower, I’m not going to be able to stop myself.”

“That was kind of the plan.”

He shakes his head, wonder in his smile. She imagines she’s got the same smile sketched across her lips.

“We’re talking after this, aye? Don’t think I’m going to let you brush past everything.”

“Don’t be like David and Mary Margaret.”

“Darling, you’ve practically got your hand down my pants. I’d rather you didn’t talk about your brother.”

Emma brings her bottom lip between her teeth and tugs on his jeans again. “Deal.”

He kisses her then, a building pressure mounting between her thighs and over her skin, and for all of the thoughts and reservations that should be building, there’s nothing in her mind but Killian and how good this feels.

How good it feels that this is with him.

How right.

Clothes are shed faster than she’s willing to admit, Killian’s mouth and fingers working wonders on her body before she can do the same to him. It’s wonderful and so damn satisfying while also being awkward and absolutely hysterical when it probably shouldn’t be. Emma has known she’s wanted this for longer than she’s willing to admit, but having your best friend be inside of you for the first time isn’t something that’s going to come without a little awkwardness.

It’s an awkwardness she’s grateful for.

Killian seems to be too because even with the sounds of skin moving against skin and moans that are a little too loud, his smile is so wide that he’s got crinkles around his eyes.

There’s something to be said about sleeping with your best friend, especially when he can easily slip between making a joke about a patch of unshaven hair on her thigh she hasn’t shaved before waxing poetic about how she feels wrapped around him. It’s foreign and familiar all at once, and Emma could get lost in the dichotomy of it all.

“If I fail my final tomorrow, I’m blaming you,” Emma pants out as Killian hits a particularly deep spot inside of her that is causing her breathing to be a little shallow.

“I’ll help you study when this is over.”

“That is true romance right there.”

Killian laughs as he dips his head down to run his lips over her jaw, inching over and over on her face until she’s swallowing both of their laughs with her kiss.

“I love you,” Emma whispers as her thighs tremble. “I wasn’t sure if that was clear or not.” Killian grunts and his thrusts falter before steadying as he stares down at her with those blue, blue eyes. She’s doing that thing where she can’t breathe again, but it’s in a good way this time.

“I love you, Emma. I feel like I always have even when you took my seat in Organic Chemistry.”

“It was totally worth it.”

“Aye, it was.”

This is weird and wonderful, and she wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else.

-/-

Killian does help her study for her final after all. He’s always been good at that, and tonight is no different. Except for the fact that his hand stays on the inside of her thigh, fingers trailing across her skin and teasing her, and they definitely get carried away once or twice and fall back into bed in between going over her notes and hashing out feelings. It’s pretty much her two least favorite things, but like everything else with Killian, it’s different.

Different is good. It’s what she needs.

-/-

She totally aces her final.

-/-

They get queso the next night to celebrate the ending of a semester and the beginning of some new, great things.

(Mary Margaret and David are totally going to have an entire episode about this, aren’t they?)

-/-

-/-

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