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thiefoflight68 · 2 years

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BAKUSQUAD X READER (F)

The New Employee

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DNI if you are not 18+.

Warnings: A lot of men fucking on one woman, starts out with backstory. Anal, masturbation, oral, fucking, use of slut/toy, after care.

Pro-Heroes: Bakugou, Hanta, Kaminari, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki

@kemakoshume - for you, hope you like. Sweet loving gang bang LOL

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Pulling down your skirt one more time, you smooth the wrinkle that keeps forming across the middle. Looking at the address, you see the huge complex ahead of you. What the fuck am I doing here?? has been methodically pounding through your brain since you stepped off the train at the station. Your stomach explodes into a mess of nerves, fear and excitement, you wonder who will be there when you get to his apartment. Definitely Dynamite, right? You bite your lip, you hope he’s one of the three. Taking a deep breath, you cross the street quickly, Mina still hasn’t texted back. You’re half-tempted to wait for her before going in, your stomach exploding with butterflies again just thinking of going up to the apartment. You can feel the wetness now rubbing between your thighs, you groan, maybe crotchless panties weren't such a good idea. What the fuck am I doing here?? runs through your brain again. It’s all fucking Mina’s fault, the fucking traitor. You appreciate her as a friend, she did get you the job at the agency and she’s been introducing you to all of your favorite heroes. She knows the ones you’ve got pinned on the walls of your apartment, the little minx. Your first few months had been going great, a few get togethers, drinks, dinners, you’d slowly been getting to know them all. Bakugou still scared the shit out of you, so making eye contact with him was next to impossible, but when you did, fuck, you could swear there was a glint in those crimson eyes. Everyone else had been so nice, nothing strange, well, until last night. “Fucking Mina,” you mutter for the umpteenth time. What the fuck am I doing here?? You know what happened and why you’re here. Thinking back, it was right when things were winding down last night, the last beers ordered.

_____________________

“(y/n), who is your favorite hero at the table?” Mina teased, six pairs of eyes landed on you.

“Oh, um,” your cheeks feel hot, you know your blushing, you jab Mina in the side.

“OW!” She laughs playfully.

“Come on, we know you gotta favorite,” Sero smiles, he takes a swig of his beer, his eyes landing appreciatively on your breasts.

Fixing your shirt, you feel stupid for wearing this button up top, it’s your favorite but you’ve been so freaked out with the new job you’ve been stress eating and everything’s a little bit bigger than usual. You look down, the adjustment only pulls on the button more, it looks ready to pop. You hear a chuckle from Bakugou, you look back up shyly, his piercing red eyes look ready to yank the button free. Reaching blindly behind you, your finger catches the small sweater you brought and you slide it on quickly, trying to pull it over you. You hear him clicking his tongue.

“Too pretty to hide those,” he hooks a finger in your sweater pushing it back off your shoulder. Your freeze, barely able to breath, did he just compliment your breasts? You decide to do nothing, leaving your sweater half-on, he smirks and goes back to drinking and talking to Todoroki. Grabbing a napkin you wipe your palms off quickly. You grab the cold bottle of beer and take a swig.

“So Mina told us a little story about you.” Kaminari says casually watching you give up on your sweater, his eyes twinkling.

Beer comes flying out your mouth as you spit on your blouse and the table, “oh shit!” You grab the napkin you were using a moment ago and wipe at the rapidly growing wet spot on your blouse, your pink bra now visible. You grab your sweater and pull it over yourself, this time ignoring the noises coming from Bakugou.

“Mina!” You hiss, pinching her. “What did you tell them!?” But you know, by the look in his eye, she told them the story. “That was not your story to tell!” You continue to seethe at her.

“What?!?” Mina grins at you.

“Friendship is something to be cherished,” Izuku says softly.

“You would say that Deku,” Bakugou snipes back rudely, “I don’t think they were cherishing her friendship though.” He smiles cockily, giving you the once over with his red eyes.

“Look (y/n), I’m sorry,” Mina giggles, “one thing led to another and it came out, what’s the big deal? It was just a foursome.” Mina pulls away from your pinching fingers.

Red blotches shine on your cheeks, you know you’re blushing so hard you want to cry, you cover your eyes. “Mina, you are saying things you don’t understand.”

“Then help us understand,” Todoroki’s voice is calm, soothing. You look up, his eyes are beautiful, you could get lost in their depths.

“Fine,” you look across the table, they’re staring at you expectantly. “I-I have four best friends,” you glare at Mina, “well three now.” She shrugs at you. Rolling your eyes, you look back at the group, “it was graduation and I was hanging with my three guy friends. We knew we were going our different ways and it was sad.” You shrug, “I was going to miss them. So we were watching a movie and it just happened.”

“Three men just happened?” Kiri whistled softly, “Mina are we best friends? Wanna watch a movie,” he laughed at her.

“Sure Kiri,” she winked, “anytime.” You smile looking down at your forgotten beer, that wasn’t so bad.

“So that was it, you never did another one?” Katsuki’s voice was softer, you notice his eyes are different.

“Well yeah, not really a lot of best friend scenarios these days for me, I just got here three months ago.”

“We’re your friends, aren’t we (y/n)?” Kaminari practically whines.

“Oh sure!” you gasp, “of course you are, sorry I didn’t mean to imply that you aren’t but, but, not like, I mean you’re all Pro-Heroes.” If possible you’re blushing harder

A quick exchange of glances shoot across the table, your mind starts to back pedal, you need to get out of this conversation quickly.

“So because we’re Pro-Heroes, it’s different?” Midoriya leans forward, his brows arched.

“No, I mean, well, not like you’d be into something like that with me, I mean, not a foursome but just me,” you slap your hand over your mouth, “I’m stopping now, I think I should go home.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” A multitude of voices ring out, Bakugou’s hand shoots out holding you.

“What if we were interested,” his voice husky, almost a purr. Chills race down your spine pooling in your stomach, you can feel yourself getting wet just from the tone of his voice.

“If you were?” You’re lost for a moment, a sweet feeling fluttering in your stomach. “I guess,” you look across the table. “I guess.”

______

And now you’re pushing open the door to an expensive building, of course being a Pro-Hero for almost six years has its benefits. As you walk to the elevator, the slick between your legs is getting creamier, your thighs are rubbing easily with no friction. You wonder who will be there. You'd put your foot down, only three of them, they’d agreed. When you received the text with the address from Todoroki, you figured he was one. If it was possible you were even wetter now, you hoped he would be in front, sucking him while staring at those eyes, that, you smile, that would be a memory you would relish for a long time. Pushing the elevator button you enter in the password he’d sent. The car moves so quickly you lose your stomach for a moment, your head feels dizzy, it slows to a stop, the doors sliding open. Stepping out to a small landing you freeze, six pairs of eyes are staring at you.

“Oh,” you turn as the doors close, you realize it took you directly into his apartment. Todoroki jumps to his feet and gives you his hand guiding you into the living room. The place is amazing, spacious with huge picture windows, you’re sure you’d appreciate it if there weren’t six men staring at you so lasciviously. “Um,” turning you look back into a large kitchen, “where’s Mina and why are there six of you?”

“Not sure on Mina,” Todoroki offers you a seat on the couch, tugging your skirt down as far as it will go you sit, realizing too late that you’re dripping wet with crotchless panties on, you close your eyes, you can never move again, you’re sure you’ve ruined his couch.

“Are you okay?” Kirishima puts his arm around your shoulder, “you look scared baby.” He rubs your back gently.

“Well, there are six of you here and we agreed on just three.” An icy fear grips you that three are here to watch.

“We couldn’t decide,” Sero shrugged, “it started to get heated so we decided to let you choose.” Your jaw drops, you shake your head.

“No, no no, I can’t do that, I, I like all of you.”

“Well not that much, you only want three, so you need to decide,” Katsuki crosses his arms glaring at the others, he was clearly not in a good mood.

“I really can’t.”

“I know it’s not me,” Kaminari hops up, “I’m not usually on the list, so I’ll head out.”

“No wait!” You grab his hand as he walks by, of all of them he’d been the first one you’d loved, maybe not your favorite, but the first one that had touched your heart. “That - that time you took down shredder, the villain in that small town, your shirt was torn.” You blush smiling at him, “your chest was - was bare, you have, the pinkest nipples, are they really like that?” Your words tumble out of your mouth.

He’s transfixed, he can’t move, the look on your face. “(y/n) do you really remember that?”

“I do and all of you, I - I admit I have my favorites but all of you are in my ‘if I met them’ book.”

“What’s that?” Midoriya slides closer to you on the couch.

“Idiot, if I met them I would fuck them.” Katsuki stands, “so does that mean we’re all in on this?”

You gulp, swallowing the no that is rising in your throat, “yes.” You croak out.

“Last question then,” Midoriya's green eyes are now sparkling, “who goes when?”

Eyes darting around the room you spy a bowl of colored glass on the coffee table in front of you. “Here,” you pick it up and hand it to Todoroki, “everyone pick one out, take a picture with your phone, then I’ll choose them blindly.” They begin pulling out a stone one by one. “Rules,” you quickly look at all of them.

“Rules?” Sero chirps.

“Let her fucking talk asshole.” Katsuki nods to you. Taking a breath you begin.

“Rules, no phones or cameras, put them away, I see a phone or camera, it stops and I mean stops.” Feeling more confident, you stand, forgetting the small wet slick now on the couch. “Safety word is,” you pick up one of the colored glass pieces, “glass, if I say glass-”

“What if you can’t talk?” Todoroki tips his head.

“Right, okay, if I tap you in any way three times, foot, elbow, finger, you have to call out to the others glass for me.” Heads nod in agreement.

“Anything else, something you don’t like?”

“No, I’m good with everything.”

“Everything?” Katsuki repeats pointedly.

Your stomach clenches hard, biting your cheek you turn, lifting your skirt. Red lace crotchless panties hugging your plush curves, you reach behind and opening your butt cheeks you tap on a small butt plug. Turning quickly you lower your skirt again. “I’m prepped for everything.” The room is silent. Looking up you see Katsuki is leaning forward, jaw slightly open, a laugh escapes.

“Not a lot surprises me sweetie,” he stands up and cups your chin, kissing you, “but you just did.”

“Is that - that good or bad?”

“Very fucking good.”

“Hang on Bakugou, we’re fucking picking stones remember.”

“Fuck you, ever heard of foreplay idiot?”

You take a deep breath, it’s really happening. Your stomach explodes with anticipation, you feel the slick pooling now, a small drip escaping down your leg, you quickly press your soft thighs together to catch it before it travels much further. “Okay, I’ll pick a rock, here we go.”

“Wait,” Todoroki walks to a desk and pulls out a small scarf, “we don’t want you to cheat.”

“Cheat?” You huff, stopping as you realize he’s about to blindfold you. “Ah, oh, okay,” he gently puts the scarf around your eyes, tying the back. You feel his lips press into your shoulder, kissing you. Reaching in again you pull out the first rock.

“YES!” Twisting around blindly you recognize Kirishima’s voice. A hand palms your ass, “I know what I want,” his breath hot in your ear as he comes up alongside you. His hand slides down between your thighs, feeling the expanding slick, his fingers glide over your folds. “I’ve been smelling that sweet tang of your pussy since you walked in here, I want this little hot wet cunt in my face to start. I wanna taste you.” Your breathing is shallow now, you can barely think, the thought of his tongue deep inside of you making your heart race.

“Next one,” your voice squeaks as you pull another piece of glass, silence. Suddenly full lips cover yours, sucking hard, his tongue slicing through your mouth, hand squeezing your cheeks almost painfully.

“I want my cock buried deep in her as soon as you’re done.” Katsuki ‘s gruff voice rumbles into your mouth. Your knees feel weak, another gush from your pussy, you clamp your thighs together stopping the flow.

“Don’t,” his hand squeezes your cheeks tighter, shoving his leg between your thighs, “I wanna see that fucking cum dripping down your legs.”

“O-Okay.” Relaxing your thighs, you can feel the pooling drip tickling your skin. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” he purrs in your ear, his voice causing a riot in your body. His thick fingers slide up your thighs capturing the drip, you hear as he sucks on them slowly, slurping. “You may have picked the second best spot, Shitty Hair, she tastes really good.”

Hand shaking you grab another rock, lifting it in the air. A hand slides up your skirt tapping your butt plug. You whirl your head looking for the source of the light touch. “I want this right here,” Midoriya’s soft voice comes up behind you, his hands on your bare ass. “This is magical back here, I’m gonna play with this a little bit first.” His mouth tickles your neck as he twists the plug in your hole.

Gasping you lean back into him, his hands slide around you holding you up, “need help steadying yourself?” Izuku’s leg now moving in behind you pressing against your wet pussy. “You feel ready for us baby doll, can you feel how ready I am for you?” He rubs his hard cock into your back.

“Yes,” you whimper at the pressure against your clit.

“Pick more rocks (y/n),” Katsuki starts squeezing your nipples beneath your thin bra. Nodding you grab another rock, body trembling waiting for another one to approach you. His fingers are icy, immediately you know, it's Todoroki. His thumb presses into your mouth, fingers cupping your chin. He pushes down on your tongue firmly, saliva pooling in your mouth, you can feel it start to gather at the corner of your lips.

“I want this sweet mouth on my cock,” he watches as your saliva slips down your chin. “I think our sweet little girl has a nice throat where I can nestle my dick.” You feel the warmth of his lips on your cheek. “Pick between the last two rocks,” he whispers in your ear. You feel the two rocks and grab one. You hear laughing, Sero, a finger suddenly pushes into your pussy.

“Oh shit,” you jump, you turn towards his voice, “that scared me.”

“Kiri, man, wanna eat her out together?”

“Hell ya,” you can hear them thumping each other’s back. You groan loudly at the thought of two tongues.

“Looks like I’m last,” you can hear the disappointment in Kaminari’s voice.

“Kaminari,” your voice is shaking.

“Denki, (y/n), call me Denki,” you can feel him next to you, kissing your neck.

“Mmm, that's nice Denki,” Reaching out you can feel him, his thigh under your hand, walking your fingers up his leg you can feel his swollen cock straining against his pants. “I’m really good with my hands Denki,” you whisper, splaying your fingers against him, rubbing along the outline of his shaft.

“(y/n) baby,” he breathes against your skin, “I think I love you,” he sighs, you can feel him unbuttoning his pants.

“It’s time (y/n), time to be our own sweet little toy, you ready?” Katsuki’s voice in your other ear, hot tongue licking at your lobe. “I’m so fucking hard, I’m gonna burst just looking at you.”

“Mmm,” you nod, thoughts fleeting, the anticipation rippling through your body, you can’t take it, every nerve is alive waiting for them.

You’re not sure who is touching you but hands are tugging your shirt over your head, a hot mouth on your breast, sucking your nipple through your bra. You jerk at the touch, another hand pulling down your skirt.

“Appreciate the lingerie (y/n), what a nice touch.” Hands pulling off your bra and underwear as a thick arm wraps around your waist. Your arms being held tightly, you feel as your body is lifted and spun around, suspended, you hear Kirishima chuckle as he sets you down.

“Reach out.”

You hold out your arms feeling a soft blanket, your knees hit the ground.

“All fours baby girl,” you recognize Katsuki’s gruff voice. “And spread ‘em for Kiri, he looks like he’s gonna fucking die if he doesn’t get his tongue in you now.” Steadying yourself, you start to open your legs as hands grab at your soft thighs spreading you wide open forcefully, a thick tongue laps at your sensitive folds sliding all the way back to your butt plug. He takes the end in his mouth and tugs hard. You moan as you clench your ass sucking it back into your body.

“Fuck Midoriya, you gotta a nice surprise here.” Kiri moves back to your dripping wet cunt, licking slowly he sucks on your clit, causing a whimper to escape from your throat. His laughter causes vibrations that make your toes curl as he flicks his tongue playfully into your wet warmth. Another mouth latches onto your clit, sucking, you arch your back as the sweet familiar ball that pulses against your clit expands in your belly.

“Ung,” you gasp as a hard dick slaps your face, the tip running across your mouth, precum smearing over your lips. Smiling you know it’s Todoroki, licking your lips, you open wide, hanging out your tongue.

“Sweet fucking toy, what a good girl,” his voice cool as he pushes the tip into your mouth but you can hear the slight tremor under the calm. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you suck greedily, flattening your tongue rubbing against his sensitive skin. His fingers dig into your hair, “fuck, (y/n)” Todoroki grits through his teeth.

Rough wet fingers begin pinching your nipples, twisting them, you jerk from the sudden jolt, the intense ball curling tighter until it pops. Your cry muffled around the cock in your mouth, your walls clenching, cum runs into Kiri’s mouth. You hear him groan as he drinks you into his mouth.

“You cum already?” Katsuki’s voice is husky, tongue sweeping around your ear again, sucking at your earlobe. “I like how sensitive you are.” Your body shudders as every part of you is under assault, the tremor of your orgasm barely calming as the next one begins to build.

The tongue in your pussy is so fucking deep now, you have to concentrate to focus on the dick in your throat, swallowing again. Eijiro’s thick finger joins his tongue, curving into your spongy warmth finding your spot. “E!” you scream around Todoroki’s dick. Eijiro starts laughing, flicking and thrusting harder. Sero, still tonguing your clit, uses his teeth to start nibbling gently. The intense feeling shoots up through your body, walls clenching as you can feel your orgasm already peaking.

“(y/n)” Denki’s voice now close to you, he tugs on your arm. Balancing yourself you reach out, you feel Denki thrust his dick into your hand, cool lube dripping down your fingers. Taking his shaft in your hand, you breath in deep, focus (y/n)! Your mind wants to melt away in the pleasure coursing through your body. Rubbing your thumb over the tip of his cock, your fingers slip over the top, letting them all slide firmly down, until the tip hits your palm, you pull back up.

“(y/n)! That feels so fucking good!” You smile as Denki squeezes your arm, letting you sweetly torture his cock.

Cold lube begins to drip into your ass, you clench at the feeling. You’ve been mentally preparing for this, fuck, the cock in your throat sliding deeper, the tongue on your clit, fingers on your nipples, dick in your hand. You’re ready to explode any moment. Fingers tug at the plug, pulling gently, just enough that it emerges halfway. Your groans loud now, salvia slipping down your chin, Izuku slams the plug back in your ass. Everything comes apart, eyes rolling back, your walls clenching on the tongue shoved deep, you scream around the cock. Todoroki slams himself into your throat, his hand holding your head.

“You got it baby girl, take me, I know you can.” He gently strokes your cheek as he pushes deeper. “Take me in your throat.” Obediently you open your throat, you can’t breath, tears soaking the scarf, some now slipping down your cheeks, your walls flutter as another wave rips through you. The mouth on your pussy latching on, drinking every drop gushing from your body, tongue coaxing you through your orgasm.

“Aaa!” You cry out around Todoroki’s cock, but he grabs your hair and shoves you deeper onto his dick. Sliding down into your throat you instinctively swallow, his deep growl and clenching fists in your hair make you smile.

“(y/n) do that again,” Shoto’s voice is losing control now, shaking with need.

“It’s fucking time Kiri, get the fuck out of the way, our good little girl needs to be fucked deep.” You feel Katsuki’s dick on your back, as he bounces it off of you. “Deku, you can take our little toy in the ass, while I fuck her.”

“Hey I wanna still suck on her,” you hear Sero whine.

“Go to her other hand Sero, fuck me, she’s got good hands,” Denki’s shivering as your hand now pumps his cock, thumbing the tip.

Another cock, your lightheaded, another cock in your hand. You reach down cupping Sero’s balls trying to keep yourself from passing out. Unable to breathe, you suck harder, squeezing Todoroki into your throat. Pulling back, he gasps spurting hot streams of cum into your mouth. You suckle him, swallowing every drop.

“Good girl,” he coos, “that’s right,” yanking your head up by your hair, “show me your mouth,” he commands. Coughing and sucking in your breath sharply, you open your mouth, tongue hanging out. He grips your tongue, saliva and cum streaming on the floor. “How do you feel?” His voice is soft, he thumbs your tongue as another pool of saliva drips to the floor. You nod, sucking on his thumb. Chuckling he rubs your cheek gently, you feel his lips caress your temple. “I think she’s ready for another cock,” Todoroki calls out.

A body slides under you, lifting your hips high, a rigid cock bumping against your stomach.

“Katsuki? I mean Bakugou?” A hand reaches up removing your blindfold. You blink, red eyes staring into yours.

“Katsuki,” he grunts, smiling at you, his hands digging deep into your thighs. “You ready princess?” You nod, as he thrusts up, his cock plunging into you. Fingers on your ass pulling out your plug at the same time, a scream erupts from your throat.

“Fuck!” You feel like you're being split into two, his thick cock stretching your walls painfully. “Bak- Kat-” tears slide down your cheeks. “Please,” you wail pleadingly.

“I’ll make you feel fucking fantastic (y/n), hold on sweet girl.” Moving his hips, he grinds himself deep inside, moving against your cervix. A warmth flushes through you as he begins to lift you off his cock, working into your spongy walls, finding the same spot Kiri had been tickling earlier. Your head snaps back, mouth open as he drives your hips down your pussy taking in his thick cock. His mouth closes around your nipple. Sero’s cock moves from your hand, you look up as he calls to you.

“Hey (y/n), sweet girl, I’ve got a nice cock for you.” He smooths your hair back, tucking a strand behind your ear. “You wanna suck me?”

You laugh as you try to focus on his question, the huge cock slamming into your pussy pulling every thought from your head. Opening your mouth, he grips your face.

“Hey baby,” he runs his hand down your jawline, “Our girl,” Sero calls gently. “Ready for me?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer sticking out your tongue, as another thrust plunges Katsuki’s cock deep in your pussy. “Ng.”

Izuku kisses your lower back, “I love your ass (y/n), look at you, so fucking good, want me baby girl?” His hands grip your cheeks as thumbs spread you wide, Izuku’s dick pushing into your hole, thrusting slowly, teasing your rim until Katsuki slams you down, causing Izuku’s cock to bury in your ass in one thrust.

“FUCK!” You scream, a shuddering orgasm sweeps through your body, walls clenching down hard on both cocks in your body.

Sero thrusts his dick into your mouth, grabbing your head, slamming into your throat. Gulping you suck on the dick in your mouth, your hand gripping Denki, you feel his cock bulging, you rub him as ropes of cum spray across your arm.

“Fuck, fuck, that felt good.” Denki sinks down to his knees.

Your body explodes, every nerve alive as you shake, jolts of pleasure rock your pussy.

“Look at you fucking gushing on my balls,” Katsuki thrusts up again, loving how tight your wet walls clench on him as you cum. Reaching down he kneads your clit, “so fucking wet, so damn tight, fuck you feel good.”

“Mmmm,” you hum on the sweet cock in your mouth, wrapping your tongue around Sero’s thick shaft. He pushes deeper into your mouth, his tip teasing your throat.

“Can you do it for me? Can my little angel deep throat me?” You nod letting him slide into your throat, the gag comes fast but you swallow hard against it, Sero laughs harshly. “When you gag it feels fucking fantastic,” he thrusts hard again, causing you to gag. “Fuck yes,” he pulls out pumping his cock, as his thick cum stripes across your face. “You look so good like that.”

You try to answer, try to hear what he’s saying but then Katsuki and Izuku are both thrusting inside of you, their dicks filling you so full your head is swimming. Your clit is swollen but those rough fingers continue to pull at the growing tension. Both slam into you pulling you down hard, you’re shaking again, walls clamping down on the thick cock in your pussy, you can feel Katsuki double pump into you as hot cum fills you.

“Fuck, fucking tight pussy,” he shoves his dick deep inside, you pant as the last of your orgasm washes over you. Your ass still full as Izuku reaches around twisting your nipples, he bites your back.

“Fuck (y/n), your ass is so fucking tight, can I cum inside?”

“Yes Zuki,” you mewl as he pounds your ass, he can’t hold on, his cock being squeezed as you milk him. He falls forwards onto your back kissing you gently.

You feel like collapsing, everything shaking, “I can’t,” the words barely out when someone is kissing you, licking your lips. “Are you okay sweet girl?”

“So many,” you laugh looking up, it’s Denki, he’s pumping his cock, now hard. You smile, “you want my mouth?”

“I do baby, oh fuck I do, can you lick it first?”

“Yeah Denks,” You smile at him sweetly. He grips your hair as he pushes into your mouth, you tickle him with the tip of your tongue, pressing it into the slit at the tip. “Oh fuck (y/n), that feels so good baby.” You stare into his eyes as you lick and suck down the length of his cock. Yellow eyes blazing, he watches you. Katsuki lifts your body as he moves from underneath you, his mouth pressing into your back, his hot tongue tracing a path to your lower back. You arch at the tickling sensation, you groan and thrust looking for something to fill your emptiness.

“Who’s next?” Katsuki asks gruffly, running his hand appreciatively over your ass. You turn for a moment catching Kiri’s wicked gleam as he’s pumping his huge cock. Denki grabs your head and swings you back around.

“Focus on me (y/n), that’s my girl,” he purrs as you begin sucking again on just the tip. “I like it when you play with me like that.” You smile and wink as you open your mouth wide, hang your tongue and move your head sliding his sensitive frenulum against your rough skin, saliva pooling on the blanket. His golden eyes flutter as he watches you.

Another warm body slides under you, rough hands on both sides as someone lifts you up, settling your hot pussy against another thick cock. Your body trembles instinctively waiting, rubbing his cock against your pink folds, you hear Kiri underneath you.

“Look at these tits, girl, fuck, you have some gorgeous nipples.” His hot mouth suckling on one, you thrust again, the tip of his cock pressing harder, stretching your entrance, hands on your hips stills your thrusts.

“Not yet baby girl, I wanna make you gush on my cock before I fuck this tight pussy.” Whining softly you wrap your lips around Denki’s cock sucking hard. You hear Kiri chuckle at your complaint, he teases your nipple more, biting and twisting at the hard nub, sending more jolts of pleasure through your empty pussy. The cold touch on your ass makes you gasp. Denki holds you firm on his cock as you try to look, he shakes his head. Smiling his eyes dart up and back to you.

“Looks like Todoroki’s getting ready to plunge that tight ass of yours.” You blink as the tip of his cock starts to push against your stretched puckered hole. You clench at the touch, suddenly a sharp slap on your ass sends needling pain along your skin.

“Wha?” You mouth around Denki’s cock trying to pull back harder.

“I don’t think you’re being a good girl back there,” Denki scolds you.

“Relax (y/n), don’t fight us now” the deep timbre of Katsuki in your ear, you nod continuing to suck on Denki. The cock against your stretching hole pushes deeper, you sigh now as it slides easily home.

“There you go, fuck you are one dirty girl, aren’t you. Our sweet slut, only ours though right?”

“Aaa,” you try to answer but Denki has your head pushed against the base of his cock, holding you firm as he grinds against your face, soft golden pubic hair tickling your nose.

“Suck him hard baby,” Katsuki’s hot tongue licks your ear, biting on the edge, his warm breath joins with Eijiro sucking on your nipple. Fiery chills collide with the tingling warmth from Shoto’s cock sliding into your ass. “You gonna cum?” Katsuki bites harder, his hand on your neck he squeezes gently. “This help?” Gasping for breath you taste cum as Denki’s hips slam into your face one last time, his eyes rolling back. You swallow feeling the thick fingers around your neck. “Fuck, I feel you drinking him, you’re such a fucking good toy aren’t you? Drink it all up sweet girl.” His mouth continues down your neck as he nuzzles against your skin. “Time to cum (y/n)”

Your head bobs as you try to breath pulling off Denki’s cock you cough, desperately dragging in a lungful of air, wheezing as you struggle past Katsuki’s firm grip on your neck. Your brain starts to swirl, everything tilting. “Cum - cumming,” your pussy already clenching, your walls desperate for something inside. “Please,” you sob, “E! Please!” You try to push down on that tantalizing cock just sitting against your entrance but Shoto thrusts up into your ass, slamming deep, he grinds against your plush cheeks, squeezing them with his hands. Eijiro sucking on your nipple bites down hard. Your cry turns into a soft howl as your thighs shake so hard you can’t hold on, strength leaving every muscle as you jerk hard with the pleasure coursing through your cunt.

“There you go,” Kiri hums against your nipple, thrusting he splits your clenching pussy. Your howl turns to a choked scream, as blackness begins to descend for a moment as Katsuki crushes your neck, suspending the pleasure, keeping the high going. The big hand releases perfectly timed, air rushes back into your lungs, your scream catches power as your cry reverberates around the room. You gulp in air, tears now streaming from your eyes as Katsuki’s lips find yours in a punishing kiss cutting off your cries, his hand buried in your hair, his tongue exploring your mouth.

“You taste like Denki,” he laughs in the kiss. You can’t think as Eijiro’s huge cock is now plunging into your pussy, angling his hips he buries deep grinding into your cervix, popping white flashes blur your vision as you can feel both dicks now inside your body. The kiss becomes sloppy and needy, as your next orgasm is already charging hard through your body. Flinging an arm around the big blonde, you suck on Katsuki’s full lips.

“Cumming again so soon?” The hand in your hair clenches as he bites your lip hard. Your eyes roll back as another wave rocks your body, you pant in the kiss trying to keep consciousness.

“Fuck baby, fuck so fucking tight,” Shoto slams into your plush ass. His hips rocking forward letting his hot cum spray into your depths. “Gonna fill you up,” he clenches his teeth as his muscles spasm the warmth spreading through his body. Opening his bi-colored eyes he sees Midoriya holding the butt plug, waiting for him. He smiles at him nodding, pulling out quickly watching as Izuku plugs up your ass. “Keep our fucking cum in our toy.”

“I wanna turn our baby over, she’s losing her strength,” Katsuki breaks his kiss and pulls you off of Eijiro, your body suddenly empty as you are flipped on your back. Kiri follows and quickly pushes back into your empty cunt, pulling your legs around his waist, he slides tantalizingly slow inside you until his cock is buried to the hilt.

“All the way in baby,” he grits through clenched teeth, “fuck you are hot.” Arching your back you thrust deeper onto his cock, your body still trembling from your last orgasm. Aftershocks rush through you without regard as a new ball of tension already begins to build with every thrust of E’s big cock.

“(y/n),” you hear their voices, both hands feel cool lube as Sero and Izuku guide your fingers around their stiff erections. Moving your hands in unison you slide down to their balls pushing against their taints, twisting their balls in your fingers. Both gasp as you tug, wrapping your hand back around their shafts to pump their silken skin.

“I’m not done with you yet girl, you ready for more?” Red eyes suddenly above you glittering as Katsuki licks his lips.

“I - I’m ready.” You try to nod but Eijiro angles his hips again this time upwards against your sweet spot, you mewl as the tension grows bigger. “OH! E!”

Katsuki straddles your face, his huge cock hard and twitching, bumping up against his stomach.

“You got me so fucking turned on (y/n), I’m gonna face fuck you baby.” Your eyes cross as he plunges into your mouth. Keeping your mind on your hands is impossible. You pump harder feeling the large cocks bulging under your palms. You can’t breath, the dick in your mouth jamming into your throat. Then it hits, Eijiro slams deep inside you, hot spurts of cum filling your pussy again as you rock your head back, arching your neck, giving Katsuki full access to your throat. He growls as he slides deep, his fingers back around your throat.

“I can feel me in you,” he pants as he thrusts harder. You can’t nod, you can’t think, your pussy clenching hard as another orgasm pulses deep inside, you try to breath again but there's no air. The blackness starts on the edges of your vision, hot burning red eyes staring into yours as tears drip down your temples. Warm spurts of cum dribble down your arms as somewhere in the distance you hear Sero and Izuku grunting against their own pleasure. Your body melts into the blanket as you hear the roar of Katsuki as his face contorts, pulling out he rubs himself as streams of cum splatter your face. His smile is the last thing you see as the blackness overwhelms you.

_________

Something warm is rubbing your body, a sigh escapes your lips. Warm breath on your lips, a gentle kiss. You smile as you wake up, your skin reveling in the silkiest sheets you’ve ever felt. Little tremors float up through your pussy and into your ass, blinking you finally focus. Izuku is above you, concern in his green eyes. He sighs deep to see you waking up.

“(y/n)?” He strokes your cheek now smiling. “There you are, sweet girl, scared us there.”

“Zuki,” you croak, your throat raw, you swallow coughing.

“Here,” Katsuki sits on the other side of you and lifts your body giving you pills and some water. You look questioningly at him. His red eyes soft he nods, “It’ll help with the pain, Shoto’s getting a throat spray to numb your throat too, if you want.”

Swallowing the pills and water, you grimace at the effort. Shaking your head, “okay,” you manage to squeak out.

“Don’t try to be strong baby,” Eijiro pats your thigh sitting down next to your legs, “we wanna take care of you.”

“Clean?” You push out through your raw throat.

“Yeah,” Sero blushes as he sits on the other side, “we cleaned you up, Denki washed your hair.” The golden haired man rubs your foot and smiles at you shyly.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

“Here you go,” Shoto walks into the room, handing Katsuki the bottle.

“Open up baby,” obediently you open as he squirts several cooling sprays into the back of your mouth, swallowing you’re relieved to feel the blissful numbness coating your swollen throat. You nod at him.

“Better.”

“Fuck (y/n), you're amazing” Katsuki murmurs, he kisses you softly. Red heat stains your cheeks. He laughs, “now she’s blushing,” he teases you.

“So who gets to keep you?” Sero asks the question, all six sets of eyes land on you. Startled, you look at each man, all so beautiful it hurts your chest to breathe.

“Keep?” Your throat still croaks although the pain is now gone.

“Baby, we’re all fucking in love with you.” Katsuki kisses your cheek again. Izuku nods, pushing back the hair that is hanging in your face.

“I - I,” your eyes wide, “can’t choose.” You frown, tears burst from your eyes dripping down your cheeks, you cover your face.

“(y/n), shhh, baby girl,” Shoto coos at you. Katsuki grips your cheeks and kisses you again.

“How about we share?” Denki sits at the end of the bed.

“What the fuck share?” Katsuki growls.

“You fucking shared her today,” Shoto snarls back.

“Kacchan,” Izuku smiles at him.

“Fuck,” he runs his hand through his blonde spikes. “Fine, whatever (y/n) wants.” A giggle escapes your sore lips as he casts a pouting look your way. “You think this is funny?” You shake your head behind your hands trying to stop laughing. “Fine, but I’ll fucking win her over,” he glares at the other Pro-Heroes, “fucking watch me.”

“Not if I make her mine first,” Eijiro slaps at the big blonde’s shoulder.

“You can’t win against me,” Shoto’s beautiful eyes gleam, “I can tell I’m her favorite.”

“You’re all fucking nuts,” Sero grins, “she likes me.”

“Sorry boys, she’s mine.” Izuku grazes your temple softly with his lips.

“But she liked me first,” Denki sighs.

A warmth flushes through your body as you peek between your fingers at each one, your mind whirls, can you really pick just one?

#bakusquad smut #bakusquad x reader #bakusquad #mha smut #fanfiction #bakugou smut #izuku smut #sero smut #kirishima smut #denki smut #todoroki smut #Pick your favorite hero #How do you pick just one #Give me lots of cock

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bittersweet-folder · 5 days

Text

♡. Stuck by the glue🎐🍃🌧

Pairing: literature student Wonwoo × literature student gn reader. (University au)

Genre: fluff, lots of fluff and bit of crack lol, established relationship, there's lots of kissing | Word count: 1.5k [ik I went overboard lol] | MASTER LIST

Song rec: tip toe by hybs // glue song by beabadoobee ft clairo // love scene by baekhyun [yes title is inspired by the glue song]

Warning: there's lots of kissing ? And Wonwoo rides a bike.

Summary: you were at your boyfriend's place. you were bored and Wonwoo is reading. So Wonwoo came up with the idea of taking you to a bookstore he came across few days back

Note: here's some oddly specific details🍃 reader is tall but shorter than Wonwoo and wears glasses and even if you dont wear glases that is also okay (This is for all my tall glass girlies and gays out there because I'm one of them as well)

Taglist: @hongmingo , @shuabby1994 , @unlikelysublimekryptonite , @asyre , @yumiyumis-blog @soobunsbun , @nishloves , @aaniag , @sikuthealien , @jespecially , @thepoopdokyeomtouched (girlie lemme know if you were in my taglist 😭 because I've lost track of it😭)

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

A nice pleasant Sunday afternoon. You came over to Wonwoo's apartment for lunch. You both don't live too far away, barely ten minutes away from each other. After lunch you laid on one side, on the sofa, your head resting on Wonwoo's lap. You were going through random shows on TV. One of Wonwoo's hands was caressing your hair while the other held a book he was reading. To be more accurate, going through the reading material suggested by their professor in class. You were bored. Not because of Wonwoo nor the random tv show displayed in front of you. Wonwoo did notice that. "Are you okay? Or you're bored? Which one?"

"Jeon Wonwoo am I that transparent-" you turned to look at him, your lips pressed in a thin line.

"Well maybe anyone can figure that out because you are going through random tv shows without actually watching them" He said while squeezing your cheeks.

"Okay then what about the book you're reading? Is it doing any better?" You said.

"I am particularly not liking it at all and reading it for the sake of my degree" He said with a forced smile really did explain that he was suffering.

"Wow okay, things we go through as literature students huh, even I hated some reading material from the previous semester. I swear to God they were so sexist and insufferable I don't even want to talk about those anymore" You said mulling over that for a few moments.

"Yeah exactly but I was asking if you're bored baby" He had a soft smile on his lips clearly because he saw that you got distracted from what he asked you previously. You were flustered about the fact that you went a bit off topic.

"Umm well yes I am and what will you do about that?"

"Hmmm lemme think…" he paused to think and then continued "we can go to a bookstore? there's a new one I came across, it also sells second hand books which are cheap"

"What-" you were always over the moon whenever you went book shopping with your boyfriend. "Oh yes we are going to the bookstore now!!"you exclaimed in sheer excitement. One thing Wonwoo knew is that you loved books and anything related to books. Bookstores had a special place in your heart, his too since that's how both meet. In a bookstore. Nearby your university. On a busy rainy monday afternoon.

"Alright sweetheart, wear your shoes and cardigan, I'll go get changed okay?" He said and then pressed a kiss on your cheek. You nodded and then started getting ready and fixed your hair too.

Wonwoo came out of his room after a few minutes in a sap green hoodie and wide legged jeans and… riding gloves?

He walked up to you. "So I'm guessing you're ready let's goo then"

"Umm baby are you gonna give me a ride as well?" you looked at his gloves and then raised your eyebrows.

"What kinda ride exactly are you talking about baby?" Wonwoo smirked.

"Eyyyy shut up you dirty minded weirdo I'm talking about the gloves you're wearing" you smacked his arm while the blush on your cheeks were becoming even more evident.

"Well yes love I'm gonna give you a ride to the bookstore because it's a little far away" Wonwoo squished your cheeks with both of his hands and planted a peck on your lips. You both put on your shoes and walked out of his apartment. Wonwoo locked the door and handed you your helmet. Wonwoo riding a bike was your favorite genre of Wonwoo. You found that really attractive of him for some reason. You also remember him, giving you a ride to your home because it was raining and you weren't carrying an umbrella. As cliche as it sounds like a scene from romantic dramas, that was the first ever time you saw him riding a bike and giving you a ride as well. You liked that feeling of holding someone close and resting your chin on their shoulder. And that someone became Wonwoo.

When you both reached the bookstore you saw it's an old bookstore and is a little dilapidated but it had its own beauty in its way.

"It's quite an old one, you know. I came across this a few days back while the night out with the guys" he said.

"Oh ohhh I see"

You both entered the bookstore and were greeted by an old man.

"Ahh we have a young couple as customers today! Good afternoon to you both. New books are on the ground floor, the second hand ones are upstairs" the old man may have aged a lot but he seemed to be very cheerful for his age which you really liked.

"Good afternoon grandpa and thank you" You both greeted him and went inside the bookstore. You felt a hand around your waist.

"We really do give off couple vibes huh"

"Yes honey we do! now coming to the point on what books we wanna buy"

"I'll guessing it's either a horror or a romantic one"

"No, I mean well yes that would differ if there's any book which grabs my attention and you're gonna follow me and hold the books" you smiled and if anything that made his heart melt.

"Why is she so cute, so enthusiastic about her interests, god I love her so much" He thought to himself.

"Wonu back to earth are you even listening?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Yes I got it I heard what you said" He said.

You both started looking through the romance section first but didn't end up finding anything much interesting. Then you both went through the crime and thriller. It's like that's where the magic happens.

"Wonu wonu! Isn't this the locked room mystery novel you were searching for?" You held a book named "The Village of Eight Murders" by Seishi Yokomizo.

"Oh yess I was. There's also a fourth book, the last book of the series The Inugami Curse" He said and then took the book from your hand going through the pages.

"Found it!" You said after finding the fourth book. He raised his eyebrows and looked at you. "So are we.." you cut him off mid sentence "we're taking these two, hold them baby" you were happy to finally found the book he was searching for. He was happy too.

"Wonwoo?" you called him by his name, your voice was soft.

"Yes love" He said, his fingers still going over the titles of each book on the shelf he's looking through. You turned and looked at him.

"I wanna go upstairs" you said.

"Hmm alright let's go" he said while a soft smile lingered on his lips.

While going upstairs y'all heard the rain suddenly started pouring down.

"See I told you it will rain tomorrow around this time, now I want my kiss baby" Wonwoo said grinning.

"Nope you aren't getting any right now especially not when we are here standing inside a bookstore" You said with a playful smile on your face. The books upstairs were second hand books so it was common to come across the one's which might have damaged covers too. Wonwoo picked out a book for you.

"y/n isn't this the book you were talking about yesterday? Its cover is slightly torn though" Wonwoo handed you the book. It was "The Remains of the Day" by Kazuo Ishiguro.

"Oh my God yesss! I'll buy this and we can glue that part you know" you said looking at the torn cover of the book he was holding.

"Yeah it's like how books helped me glue to you and we ended up in a relationship"

"My my aren't you being so cheesy for someone who's standing in the fiction aisle with me" You gave him a coy look and then went back searching through the shelf of books.

"Well then love what about kissing in the bookshops as well, like they do in the romance books"

A blush crept your cheeks and ears. You turned to look at him. He smiled looking at your flustered face, his eyes traveling back and forth on your eyes and then your lips.

"Since when did you become so romantic-" your sentence was cut off by him putting his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to the side slowly. And then he pressed his lips against yours. A soft and warm kiss in the middle of a crispy old bookshop while the euphonious sound of the rain drizzling played outside. He pulled away shortly after but you chased for his lip even more.

"I always was and you're cute when you want more you know" he whispered, his cheeks slightly flushed now as well.

"Yes of course you are" you mumbled and pouted.

"We should check out these books, you know" you said.

"Yes love we will but let's just stay here until the rain slacks off" Wonwoo said as he took you by your hand and made your way to the couch placed on the right side of the room.

"Till then we'll sit here okay?" Wonwoo made himself comfortable sitting beside you.

"Yeah you're right" You said leaning on his shoulder.

Let's just say,he made your day a lot better than before.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

A/n: my exams are finally over so yes I'm back and I'll write more ig. A lotta drafts are piled up literally. Also feedbacks and reblogs are really appreciated. I have proofread once but lemme know if there's any grammatical errors.

ALSO YES I WAS LITERALLY GIVING Y'ALL BOOK RECS THROUGH THIS CUZ DUH I'M AN ENGLISH MAJOR TOO.

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt wonwoo #svt hip hop unit

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juletheghoul · 7 months

Text

AN: The gif of this man as a sheriff, sent my ass into a SPIRAL and this is what happened. I originally wanted to post this for my birthday, but with Canadian Thanksgiving falling on the same weekend there was no way I would have been able to finish lol. I am still trying to post more often, please be patient with me, hopefully this makes up for the lack of posting for the last few weeks. Special thanks to @wheresarizona for betaing and just general wonderfulness, to @just-here-for-the-moment for screaming at me through comments and in whatsapp over this, and to @frannyzooey for screaming at me through discord lol (And for making me some super awesome edits that I will post after!) Hope you enjoy xox.

(PS, I have an idea for a part 2, let me know if you’d want to read it!)

Pairing; Sheriff Frankie Morales x f!reader (Blue / Bluebell as a nickname)

Warnings; sweet, lovestruck Frankie needs his own warning I think-piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy like the champion he is, a non-consensual creampie, angst, longing, yearning, some violence (involving guns / war, accurate for the time period-I tried not to let it get too gory or graphic) brothel mentions - let me know if I missed anything.

Word count; 13k 😅

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

Dust swirled around him as he made his way into town from the train station, the sun beating down on his every step, and although he hadn’t been home in over a decade, he still knew the way just as well as if he’d never left. Difference was he’d left practically a boy, and now he’d come back a man.

People he both did and didn’t recognize passed him as he carried his suitcase down the sunny high street, some of them smiled, most of them ignored him. It made no difference to him. He would be their new sheriff just the same. Besides, there was only one person he cared to see again. There would be time enough for that later, though. First, he had to get settled.

The brothel was busy, a surefire sign of the town’s growth evident in the number of horses tied up in front.

“Well, hey there, sugar–” He tipped his hat and smiled at the young lady calling out to him, smiling as she leaned against one of the columns flanking the entrance, “-you coming to make a woman out of me?” She batted her big eyes at him.

“Don’t count on it.” His tone was polite, his smile in place. She tsked, giggling at his manners before being called away by someone inside.

Sweat was starting to collect on his brow with the effort of lugging his suitcase all the way from the train station, and he let out a relieved sigh when he finally stepped through the doors of the sheriff's office. It was somehow even hotter on the inside.

“Can I help you?” A kid no older than he’d been when he’d left greeted him from one of the two desks in the small room.

“I’m Francisco Morales, I’m here to see–”

“He’s here to see me, he’s my replacement.” A grizzled but familiar voice sounded from behind him, “You’re early.” The older man walked past him on his way to the second, bigger desk, where he put his cowboy hat down before turning to face him once more. “I was under the impression you’d be here by the end of this month. You in that much of a hurry to retire me, boy?”

He set the suitcase down before wiping at the back of his neck with his handkerchief.

“No sir, just wanted to get settled in, have some time to reacquaint myself.” He put the cloth away. “Fix up the house before starting. Thought I’d check in with you first, though.” He’d gotten in plenty of trouble growing up, and most of the time, this man had been the one to pull him by his ear and make him smarten up. It was a novelty to be in this office and not be in trouble.

“Well, you’ve checked. Go on and get settled. The desk and the badge will still be here in a week.” Sheriff Carson had always been one to speak plainly, and he did so now.

“Yes, sir.” Francisco picked the suitcase back up and braced himself for the glaring rays that would greet him just outside.

“Son,” He turned at the sound of the old man’s voice, “I was sorry to hear about your folks. They were good people.” He nodded back at the old man once and made his way back out the door.

—

“Try again.” You crossed your arms, “We both know I’m not paying that much.” You kept both your voice and expression as neutral as you could, keeping your real interest in the supplies he had close to your chest. Interest and necessity always cost more.

He narrowed his eyes, and you raised your eyebrows in return, holding your ground.

“Price is an even one hundred dollars; had to ride halfway around the world to get most of it-” You curled your lip in disgust.

“Bullshit, Dale! You rode to the nearest town, and that’s only a day's ride at the most. I’ll pay fifty, and that’s twice what it’s worth.”

“You tryna rob me, woman?” He crossed his arms, mirroring you, “I’ll go down to eighty, but that’s final.” He rose to his full height, his posture making him look like some giant, petulant child.

“Seventy-five. And I want some tobacco.”

“Goddamn, you drive a hard bargain. Fine.” He extended his hand, and you shook it with a satisfied smile.

“Good man. Pleasure doin’ business with you.”

“Yeah, yeah, robbin’ me more like.” He grumbled good-naturedly and unloaded the supplies while you counted out the money to pay him with. “Goin’ back in a couple weeks, make sure you let me know what you’ll be needin’ before I go.” He tucked the money away and left. The rest of the morning was spent restocking the various bottles and cabinets with your new stock.

It was therapeutic, sitting behind the big mahogany counter to take inventory of your shop. The shop that had taken you years to finally acquire. Every so often, you took stock of all the work you’d put into it and felt a significant amount of pride in what you’d accomplished. All of it done on your own.

The customers came and went throughout the day, buying tinctures and tonics, and you helped them all to the best of your ability until the end of the day eventually found you, and you locked up the shop. With a final sweep to ensure everything was in its right place before closing up for the night.

The sun was blessedly low as you made your way home, but the streets were busy. Ethel, the youngest and friendliest of the girls who worked in the brothel a few doors down from your shop, was smoking her pipe on the porch, waving and smiling as you passed.

“Hey Ethel, how you keeping?” You called out to her, “Fall in love again today?” She laughed, a plume of smoke wreathing around the halo of her hair.

“Of course, saw a tall drink of water today. Think I’m gonna marry him.” She winked, a devilish smile on her pretty face.

“Uh oh, sounds like he’s in trouble.” You laughed, waving as you passed by the house.

“He will be if he ever comes in here, bye Honey, see you later.”

The buildings thinned as you moved further and further away from the main street, giving you a clearer view of the surrounding ranches and houses scattered throughout the plains. Your own house came into view, and you smiled to see it. The view of it had the pride swelling again; it had been run down and ragged when you’d purchased it, but money wasn’t the only thing you’d invested. That house was the result of your blood, sweat, and tears. Hours and hours of elbow grease, blisters, and bruises, cuts, and had you not been very careful, it would have cost you a few broken bones as well.

There was another house on the way to yours though, one that wiped the smile right off your face as you passed it. It was a house that drew your eye no matter how many times you walked past, no matter how many times you tried to ignore it. It was empty now, but years ago, it had been full of life, full of love and mischief and happiness. It had been full of hope and promises. It was empty now, one of the windows broken, much like the promises had been.

You couldn’t help but watch it as you passed; something flashed in the window, but you ignored it. There hadn’t been anyone there for years.

Wish it would just burn down or sell. Wish the ground would open up and swallow it whole.

Your feet ache when you finally make it to your house, eager to unlace the boots imprisoning them. You did your best to hurry through all your chores and feed yourself, the promise of a hot bath and sweet-smelling soap carrying you through.

—

The house was so much worse than he’d thought it would be, and he’d thought it’d be bad. A couple of windows had broken, and half a town's worth of dirt and dust had blown in through them. He sighed at the state of it, knowing his mother would never have let it get this bad, and for once, he was grateful she wasn’t around to see it.

He set his suitcase down and made a mental list of what needed to be done. First thing first, he needed a few things.

With a wagon full of supplies and considerably less money in his pocket, he began the long process of making it habitable. With a stiff brush and an even stiffer broom, the dirt was returned to its rightful place outside the house. The windows that weren’t broken were opened to let in fresh air, and floors and counters were washed. Food and supplies were put away; the bed was made with new, expensive sheets and linens.

He worked his fingers to the bone throughout the day and most of the night until he’d done as much as he could. There was nothing to be done about the windows; the glass had been ordered, but it would be a few days, possibly even weeks, until he could fix those.

By the time he’d boiled water to bathe himself with, he could barely keep his eyes open, and once clean, he dropped into bed and into the sweet abyss of sleep.

It was strange for him to wake up in the same house he’d grown up in, even stranger for him to wake up in the bedroom his parents had owned. He’d been so dead tired that he’d forgotten to close the shutters, and the room was flooded with the golden light of dawn, chasing away any and all hope for a few extra hours of rest.

Those earlier years were vivid in his mind now that he was here, in this house. He could practically hear the younger, wilder version of himself climbing out his window to go find her. Could still taste the stolen kisses in his mouth, could still hear her delighted laugh when he’d wrap her up in his arms and declare his undying love.

He rose, trying and failing to leave the memories of her behind, and got ready for the day. The coffee he’d bought from the general store wasn’t half bad, and he drank the whole pot with gusto, making a mental note to make sure he picked up some more before he ran out.

The current sheriff didn’t want him underfoot while he settled his affairs, and he didn’t plan on making Carson’s life harder, but he did want to reacquaint himself with the town he’d soon be the law in. He figured the best way to do that would be to go into the businesses and talk to the people, and make his presence known.

You should be looking for her, give her an explanation–demand one in return.

He shook his head, ignoring the rational part of his brain. After all, he didn’t even know if she was still here. He thought about her as he left his house, imagining he could see the two of them as they’d been before. He, in his transition into manhood, her in the bloom of her youth, the two of them inseparable. The ghosts caught up to him though, and then he saw her–the real her, standing just outside the apothecary, waving someone away.

She saw him too, and his heart raced. She was even more beautiful to him than he remembered; it was as though for a brief moment, all of the years between them melted away.

A very brief moment.

The look of shock and hurt, and what he hoped had been love on her face was replaced with a look that, thankfully, could not hurt him. It was pure and unadulterated anger, no–fury.

His legs moved, bringing him towards her. This was definitely not how he wanted this meeting to go. He just hoped she’d listen, but judging by the way she stuck up her middle finger at him, it didn’t look good.

–

The nerve of him. The unmitigated gall!

“Wait–” His voice sounded as you turned to make your way back inside the shop.

“No!” You yelled back over your shoulder, not even bothering to face him, even as your heart raced to see him again.

“Goddamnit, woman, wait! Let me talk to you–” He was closer than you thought, barely managing to avoid you slamming the door in his face.

“Don’t you ‘woman’ me, Francisco Morales!” you yelled up into his handsome face, hating how gorgeous he looked, how his neck- one of your favourite parts of him- stared you in the face. “Do me a favour and take off for another fifteen years. Leave me be.”

“Come on, Bluebell, you gotta let me explain.” He managed to slip through the doors before you had a chance to lock them, but it didn’t matter, the pet name he called you stopped you in your tracks and rocketed the fury to new heights.

“Bluebell?” You couldn’t hide the edge of violence in your voice, “How dare you call me that? I am nothing but a stranger to you at this point. You lost any and all privileges to call me anything at all when you left.” He was taller than when he left, but his eyes still burned into yours the way they’d done when you were young and in love.

It would make you laugh if you weren’t still so hurt about how everything had gone down. The way he was standing in front of you, hands on his hips, frustrated frown in place. You didn’t give him an inch, but it hurt to admit just how badly you’d missed him. You shooed the swirl of feelings for him away, focusing on the one easiest to deal with: anger.

“Will you listen to me at least?”

“Why should I?” You turned from him, busying yourself with putting a few of your jars back in their place.

“Well, because I owe you an explanation–” You let out a bark of cruel laughter.

“That’s an understatement.”

“-I know, I always intended on coming back for you. You have to know that.”

“Do I? Do I just have to know that Francisco?” You all but slammed the jar into its slot on the big cabinet, taking up the whole wall behind the counter. “You know, you have some goddamn nerve–” the little bell above the door jingled when the Sheriff walked in, his bushy, white eyebrows raised into his hairline as the look on your face. It didn’t take an overly in-depth investigation to see that Francisco wasn’t exactly in your good books.

“You never could stay out of trouble, could you, son?” He moved past him to stand at the counter before you, “You want me to come back later, sweetheart?”

You sighed, doing your best to smile at the older man.

“Not at all. I have the tonic ready; give me just a moment to wrap it up for you.” You did your best to smile and ignore the big, aggravatingly effective puppy dog eyes shining at you from your peripheral. “Here you are, Sherriff, that’ll be thirty-five cents.” He dug into his pocket, counting out the right amount and handing it over before thanking you and turning to leave.

“You make sure you let me know if you need anything–” He gave Francisco a frown, “-and I mean anything.”

“Yes sir, thank you.” With another jingle, he was gone, but other customers made their way inside, and Francisco sighed.

“You can go ahead and leave. I am at my place of business.”

“I will come and find you later. Then we can actually talk.” He took a few steps back, his hand on the door handle.

“I won’t hold my breath.”

—

Much to his annoyance, the sheriff was waiting for him outside of the apothecary.

“Can I help you with something, sir?” He spoke the words through a tired sigh.

“Boy, I do believe that woman hates you.”

“No sir, that woman loves me. If she hated me, she would have shot me.” He moved away from the sheriff, ignoring the raucous laughter that followed his every step. He ignored it and set about doing what he needed to do, telling himself that he’d be able to deal with it later when she let him explain himself. It made no matter what he told himself, though, his mind wouldn’t let her go.

Instead of using the time productively, he found himself counting the hours until she closed up the shop, loitering around the door like some lovestruck teenager. He scoffed to himself, ignoring the cloying heat of the sun. Isn’t that all he was? Just some lovestruck fool? She couldn’t know that, though, not with the way things had gone down.

Any hope he had of her cooling down throughout the day died at the narrowing of her eyes, her expression now as she locked the apothecary door so different from the one that had kept him going throughout the years he’d spent away.

“Still here, shocking.” She waltzed past him, “Just leave me be.”

“I can’t do that., I need you to listen to me.” It took him a few long strides to catch up with her, “Can I please just explain?”

“Why? What does it matter at this point? I don’t want to hear you–” He stood in her way, blocking her path on the dusty sidewalk.

“Listen! Please!” He held onto her arms, keeping her still so he could look into her eyes. “I know you aren’t happy with me–” She scoffed, and he spoke over her, “I know, but you have to know that I missed you all this time. I didn’t want it to happen like this, but I can’t help that now.” She shrugged out of his grip, crossing her arms.

“You okay, Honey? This man botherin’ you?” An older woman shouted from the porch of the brothel, her hand on the gun at her hip.

“No, Ma’am, I’m fine. I know him–well, I knew him.” She turned towards the madam and smiled, “I got it under control.” She sighed and walked around him, turning to him after a few steps. “You have until I get home.”

He rushed behind her and kept the smile to himself.

“I see you’ve done really well for yourself. It makes me really happy to see how you’ve been–”

“This isn’t an explanation. You’re wasting your time with flattery I won’t respond to.”

“Right, I’m sorry.” He frowned, trying to keep pace with her. “I sent you letters–”

“You sent me a few letters, all of which I responded to.” She spoke loudly, cutting him off. “A few letters in almost fifteen years–”

“I sent you dozens of letters.” It was his turn to frown and her turn to slow down, “I wrote to you as often as I could, even after I stopped getting your responses.” He knew he wasn’t exactly the kind of man her parents had wanted her to end up with. He remembered the sour looks on their faces when he’d come calling.

“I got a few letters the first year and then nothing else.” Her expression was wary, her eyes narrowed. “Did you really write to me? Or are you saying that so I’ll forgive you?” She crossed her arms, stopping to gauge the truth in his words.

“I wrote to you for years, figured I would have to come and talk to you in person, but then I thought maybe you’d met someone else, or moved away, or worse. Then I told myself I’d come and find you, but life is the way it is, and things got in the way. When I heard they needed a new sheriff, I sent word to Carson to see if he’d consider hiring me–I was shocked when he responded yes.” She stared at him, eyes bright but mistrustful. “I swear on my mother's grave.” He took her hand, holding it to his heart. “I should have come sooner-” She pulled her hand away gently, fire still burning in her gaze, but now it was coloured with sadness as well as fury.

“Yes, yes, you should have.” She sighed and continued walking towards their homes, “I am so angry at you, Francisco. I am angry you left and angry you came back.” She looked away from him, her hands flying to her face momentarily before facing forward again.

“I know.” His house came into view, and he fought the urge to invite her in. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.” She didn’t respond, only kept her eyes forward. “What time do you leave in the morning?”

“What?” She frowned.

“What time do you usually leave? I’m not sure what time the Apothecary opens–”

“It opens at eight, but I like to get there early. Why?”

“May I accompany you? I would like to walk with you if I could.” He knew she wouldn’t forgive him so quickly. Her fiery temper was one of the things he’d always loved about her.

“You want to walk me? I am fully capable-”

“I never said you weren’t. I would still like to walk with you. I’ve missed talking to you, it would be a nice way to…reconnect.” He chanced a smile, hoping it would still have the effect it used to.

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t smile in return. Her house was closer now, his time with her coming to an end for the day.

“I suppose I cannot stop you.” It wasn’t a yes, but it definitely wasn’t a no.

“See you tomorrow then, goodnight Bluebell.” He stopped a few yards from her door, waiting until she was safely tucked inside before turning and going home.

The moon was high when you finally dug out the letters you’d hidden away deep in the chest at the end of your bed. The paper had yellowed, and you didn’t even bother getting up off the floor. With shaky hands, you untied the little bundle and spread them out in front of you, trying your hardest not to tear up at the little hearts and flowers he’d drawn in the curled-up corners.

My Dearest Bluebell,

I cannot even begin to tell you how much I miss you. Things here move so quickly, but I’m doing so much, making more money than I’ve ever seen! More than enough for us to start our lives together–

You pushed the letter away, finally letting go of the sob that had been squatting in your throat since seeing him earlier that morning. The love he’d had was so evident in his scratchy script, and the pain of his apparent silence reared its head in your soul to see it again after all of the years you’d survived without him. The last letter he’d sent held no clue as to why he’d ever stop writing, and now a nagging suspicion filled the corners of your mind.

Your mother had made it more than clear that Francisco wasn’t her first choice for you. She’d treated him less than kindly whenever he came calling, would turn up her nose at him whenever she’d seen the two of you together, and had smiled a big, cruel smile at the news that he’d be leaving. Would she have gone so far as to hide letters from him? Something in your heart said yes.

Suddenly, it was too much to see his words surrounding you, and you gathered them up hastily, tossing them back into the chest before surrendering to the exhaustion in your heart and in your bones and getting into bed. You tried to think about something else as you lay there, anything else–but he kept popping up, making you wonder–against your will–whether or not he’d actually be there in the morning.

He didn’t let you wonder.

His heavy knock made you practically jump out of your skin as you did your best to tie the laces of your corset. You chewed on your bottom lip, annoyed with how you rushed to throw on your dressing robe, sighing at the speed with which you made it to the door.

He smiled as you opened the door, testing every measure of self-control you’d built up in his absence with a single dimple.

“You’re here.”

“Yes, just like I said–I figured it would be best to be early.” His gaze raked over you in your half-dressed state, “You look lovely.”

“Sure I do.” You scoffed, “I need more time. I usually leave a little later.” He scratched at the back of his neck, unsure what to say, and you had to work extra hard to keep from laughing at him. “Come in then. You can wait in the kitchen while I finish getting dressed.” You turned and left then, leaving him to close the door.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You kept the door slightly ajar in your bedroom, your heart racing to know that after all this time–he was in the same house as you. You shook your head, shooing away the novelty of his presence to call up the anger and the fury that had kept you from falling apart in his absence.

“The house looks great!” He called from the kitchen, “You shoulda seen the state of mine when I got here.”

You bit your lip, relishing the deep tones of his voice as they filled the house.

“Still haven’t been able to fix the windows–had half a desert's worth of sand in the house. Took me forever to clean it.” He continued speaking as you finished dressing, completely unaware of the way you contemplated whether or not to use some of your very pricey, very precious perfume. You ignored the disappointed little voice in your head as you dabbed a few drops behind your ears and on the inside of your wrists.

“-hopefully, they'll come in by the end of the week-” He was still speaking when you made your way back into the kitchen where he sat at your little table, the long lines of him entirely too big and too wonderful for the tiny space.

“Have you eaten?” You cut off his speech, pulling down the cast iron pan from the rack above the woodfire stove.

“I, uh, I had some coffee.”

“So, no?” You shoved some kindling into the open door of the oven, striking a match to light it.

“Well, no–”

“Okay then.” There was enough time, and you got to work.

“Can I help?”

“No–actually, yes. You can go fetch some water from the well out back.” You shoved the big kettle into his hands and sent him on his way, where he went without comment.

Soon enough, you had biscuits baking and coffee brewing, and the house smelled better than any perfume you could buy. You once again ignored the little voice, the one that curiously sounded like your mother when you put out both the butter and the jam.

When they were out of the oven and steaming, you couldn’t help but smile at how well they'd turned out.

“It smells like heaven in here.” You could practically hear him drooling, and it was with a great sense of both satisfaction and pride that you watched him throw caution to the wind and eat one without waiting for it to cool down. He moaned at the first bite, making your heart soar and silencing the mean little voice.

“You like them?” You had to hear it, had to hear the words in his voice.

“Like them? Honey, I’d kill for them.” You narrowed your eyes at him but let the endearment go without comment. Already, you were softening up for him. “I could eat this whole goddamn plate.” He pulled another one open, no doubt burning the tips of his fingers but continuing on just the same, slathering it with both butter and jam before taking a huge, steam-filled bite.

You ate yours slower, unsure what you liked best, the biscuit or watching him eat.

He poured you a cup of coffee before pouring one for himself, and for a moment, your heart shattered at how right it felt to have him here. For the first time since he’d left, you let yourself feel just how lonely you’d been without him.

“I know you’re angry with me.” He put the remnants of his biscuit down, “I know you think I abandoned you, picked up and found a new life outside of this place, but you have to know–” He reached over, taking your hand in his, “I never stopped thinking about you.” The tears flowed without your permission, what felt like years worth of them dripping steadily onto the bodice of your dress. “I have loved you since I was a boy, and I should have come back the second I thought something was wrong. I’ll never forgive myself for letting you worry or letting you imagine for a single moment that you weren’t everything to me. I know it’ll take time for you to trust me again, but I’ll work as hard as I can.”

You wanted to rip your hand away, to scream in his face and tell him to give you peace, but you couldn’t. Instead, you let the tears fall, let him stand and tentatively pull you towards him, let him crush you in the first hug you’ve had in years. For a moment, it’s as though you cannot get close enough, your hands like claws digging into the fabric of his overcoat, knuckles cramping from the force of your grip, and he sighs into your hair. The relief of the painfully familiar smell of him is so great that it almost knocks you off your feet.

When you finally push him away, you know your eyes are puffy.

“I believe you–” He smiles through his own tears, “-but I am still angry. I cannot just let go of my hurt. Not so quickly.” It takes everything in you, but you untangle yourself from him softly. “I have been living in this for so long, I don’t even know how to stop feeling this way.” The handkerchief that usually lived in your pocket made itself useful now. “I don’t even know where to begin. I loved you so much–” His face contorted in pain, the use of the word in the past tense like a stab to his heart. “-I don’t think I ever stopped. It’s the reason it hurts so much.” He let out a shaky breath, smiling a watery smile.

“I know, I’ll work for it, I promise.”

“I know.”

–

He felt like he was flying. His steps were so light, surely he’d grown wings. He knew it was going to be a long road for them, but for the first time in years, he had hope.

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face throughout the day, the feel of her in his arms, the smell of her in his nose, all of it made him feel like any errant puff of wind would blow him away. He had a skip in his step as he made his way over to the Sheriff's office, uncaring whether the man wanted him there or not. He had to keep his time away from her occupied with something, and learning what it took to do his job effectively was the next best thing.

“I haven’t seen that look on your face in years, it meant trouble back then, and I doubt it’s changed.” Sheriff Carson frowned at him, “Your house all fixed up then?” He didn’t stop what he was doing, instead continuing as he spoke.

“As fixed as it can be, sir, until the replacement window panes come in.” He sat in the chair in front of Carson without invitation. The man only grunted in response.

“I want to start early, get a feel for what you do so I can do it properly.” At this, the older man looked up.

“I know I wasn’t the easiest kid–” The older man scoffed at that but let him continue. “-Yes, yes, I know. I was a helion. I’m a man now, and I’ve grown up. I just want to keep this town safe, want to do my job.” The older man's eyes narrowed, and Francisco frowned. “Why did you say yes when I applied?”

“Part curiosity, part hope, I guess.” He set the pen down, leaning back in his chair, his arms coming to rest crossed on his belly. “You’ve always been a smart kid, Frank, and if you really are as grown up as I think you are, I think you got the makings to be a great sheriff. Especially if you’re anything like your daddy.” It was probably the nicest thing Carson had ever said to him. He didn’t know how to respond.

“I just don’t want you to hurt that girl–” He raised his hands to forestall any response, “I know what you felt for her was real, but she was a shell when you left, and I don’t want to see her like that again. We clear?”

“Yes, sir. I’m here. I’m home for good.”

“Good, now let's get to work.”

Francisco was no stranger to hard work, but Carson seemed determined to make him jump through every single hoop in order to prove he could do this job. It didn’t deter him in the slightest, not with the promise of the life he’d always wanted so close on the horizon. Instead, he took notes, followed Carson, did everything he asked, and paid as much attention as he could, but secretly counted the hours until he would see her again.

He heard the gunshots as he organized the disaster that was Carson’s filing system.

“Suppose you oughta come with.” Carson slipped his holster on, handing a gun to him before leading the way toward the sound.

A half-naked man was rolling around on the ground just outside the brothel, clutching at a blood-soaked arm. His eyes were wild with pain and anger, and he only seemed to get more frantic at the sight of the two of them approaching.

“Sheriff! Arrest that woman!” He pointed with his good hand at the young woman on the porch. “Crazy bitch shot my damn arm-”

“You put your hands on me, and you lose your hand! Them’s my rules!” She was screaming mad, a painful-looking shiner blooming on her pale face.

“Enough!” Carson’s voice rang out loud enough to silence everyone within earshot, “Now–Who’s gonna tell me what happened? I can listen, or I can arrest the lot of you and be done with it.” He rested his weight on one leg, hand resting on the gun at his hip.

The madame stepped out from behind the younger woman, her face austere.

“I think it’s pretty obvious; he took a liberty, smacked my girl around, and he got bit.” She put her arm around the younger woman's shoulder. “Ethel is one of my best. Now she’s got this to deal with. He’s lucky she didn’t shoot his pecker off.” The man scoffed, pulling his shirt on as best he could before moving towards the women.

“I don’t think so, pal,” Francisco spoke directly to him, pulling his own gun and holding it at his side in warning.

“I got witnesses, Carson. Lock this fucker up, and let us get back to work.”

“I’ll need to come in and get some statements, Mabel. You know that as well as I do. Frank, take this moron over to get patched up.”

“So I’m just gonna lose my fuckin’ hand!?” He was incensed.

“Lucky you didn’t lose your life. Now get out of my sight. I’m gonna give you until sundown to be out of here; if not, you can spend an undetermined amount of time in my jailhouse.” Carson’s voice held no room for anything but complete obedience, and after a tense moment, all of the air went out of him, and he let Francisco lead him toward the town physician.

You tried not to be upset when he wasn’t waiting for you outside the apothecary at the end of the day; after all, he hadn’t said he would be. Instead, you locked up as usual and set about making your way home.

“Bluebell!” His voice rang out from behind you, making your head whip around. Your frown turned from annoyance to worry at the sight of dried blood on the white of his shirt. Your hands clutched at the collar of his shirt before you had a chance to catch yourself.

“What happened?” Any and all propriety went right out the window with how frantically you pulled at his layers to see where the blood had come from. “Did you get hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine–it’s not mine.” there was something in his voice that brought you back to your senses, a tenderness that pierced the very heart of you. His hands held onto yours for a moment before you pulled them away slowly.

“Oh. I’m glad.”

“There was some trouble at the brothel. One of the girls shot some idiot who got handsy. I had to bring him to the physician.” The thought of him anywhere near the brothel made your hackles rise. You stamped the feeling away and continued your walk back home. He fell into step beside you. “What was that?” His smile was big now.

“What was what?”

“That look you just gave me.” He bumped his shoulder into yours, and you frowned.

“What are you talking about? I didn't give you any look.”

“You gave me a look, Blue, when I said the word brothel, a jealous look.” His smile was so wide you wanted to smack him.

“I did not. You are free to do as you please. We aren’t married.” You kept your eyes on the horizon and did your best to ignore the bark of laughter he let out beside you.

“Fine, I’ll drop it. I got no business in a brothel anyway. Even if I’m not married, yet.”

You sighed, ignoring just how right he was.

There was a man with a wagon waiting just outside his house as you passed it.

“Can I help you?” He called out to the man outside his house. You can’t help but notice how he put himself between you and the stranger.

“I have some window panes to deliver.” He walked around to the back of the wagon, uncovering it to show the cargo

“Oh! Yes, I’ll take those.” He jogged over to the man, helping to bring the glass inside. You followed him despite yourself, unable to keep the frown off your face at the state of his home. You were still looking around when everything had been brought inside, and the man had been sent away. “It still needs work, but at least the windows will be intact.” You could see how he surveyed his home, his eye just as critical if not more than yours.

You set down your things.

“Need to boil some water.” You hauled out the biggest pot you could find.

“What?” He came over and took the pot from you, putting it onto the stove for you.

“We need to boil water to clean these floors, and we should wash these windows too.”

“Yes, but I can do it–”

“Francisco. Go get water so we can boil it and get this place in order.” You raised your eyebrows at him and relished the way he watched you. He’d always liked it when you were assertive.

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled before heading out to his own well.

Once the water was boiled, you got to work with a stiff brush while he set about replacing the broken windows. It wasn’t easy work, getting down on your knees to scrub the years worth of dirt and dust out of every nook and cranny embedded in the floorboards. It was worth it, though, to look up every so often and see the hard lines of him working, both his jacket and waistcoat shed and thrown onto a chair; his shirtsleeves rolled up.

He’d always been beautiful to you, with his big brown eyes and his golden skin, the maddening dimple, even the curve in his nose. He was even more gorgeous now, with age and experience etched on his face, even hardened, he could still make you swoon.

You gasped at the sting, snatching your hand back cat-quick. Blood beaded on your finger and dripped down onto the freshly washed floor, an errant piece of broken glass sitting on the floor. It was a few seconds before he was gathering you up from off the floor and guiding you to one of the chairs.

“I’m okay, just a little cut.” He moved away for a moment, moving towards the back of the house. “Really, Frankie, I’m fine.” He came back with a few pieces of clean linen and a little jar of something clear; you can only imagine what it is.

“I know. I still want to clean and wrap it, though.” He set his things down, moving to the remaining boiled water on the stove to dampen one of the pieces of cloth, using it to clean the wound before opening the little jar. His eyes found yours then– ”You gonna be brave for me?” He held it over the cut, waiting for you to answer. “It’s going to hurt, but I know you’re gonna be good for me.” He winked and then splashed a little bit of the moonshine onto it. He may as well have stuck a hot poker into your hand. “There there, Blue, almost done.”

By the time the stinging abates, your finger is wrapped up, and any evidence of injury is gone.

“Thank you.” You held your hand close to your chest, ignoring the way it shook a bit.

“Of course, I think we’re done for today. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I would like for you to eat something.” He pulled out what looked like some crusty bread and some dry meat. “It’s not much, but it’s what I have for right now.” He set it down in front of you, giving you everything he had to offer, and for the first time in years, you smiled at him.

“Are you done with the windows?”

“Yes, I just need to get rid of these broken pieces.” He gestured to the pile on the counter.

“Okay, let's go back to my place. I can make us dinner.” You stood to move, and he followed you, protesting for a moment.

“But your hand–”

“My hand is fine. Let’s go.” You moved to pick up your things, but he stopped you, gently knocking your hand aside to carry them for you.

The stew came together as quickly as it could with the way your hand throbbed. The bread, too, and soon enough, you were both sitting at the table eating the steaming food quietly. He ate with gusto, and you wondered briefly if he’d been eating well in his time away. He looked strong, but then again, he’d always been broad.

He pushed his bowl away with a dreamy smile, his hands coming to rest on his belly.

“That was the best thing I’ve eaten since I left. Aside from the biscuits this morning, I mean.”

“I’m glad.” You finished eating as he sat there, enjoying his company far more than you’d ever admit. Once you were done, he grabbed your bowl and put it into the sink, pouring some of the leftover well water to begin cleaning up. “You don’t have to do that–”

“I know. You don’t have to feed me either. I’ll just clean these and then get out of your hair.” You sighed, knowing you wouldn’t convince him otherwise.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you, you’ve fed me better today than in the whole time I was gone.” You smiled to yourself, half exhilarated, half annoyed at just how much your anger at him had crumbled. “Okay-” He set the last plate on the drying rack before drying his hands, “-I desperately need a bath. I’ll get out of your way. See you tomorrow morning?”

“If you want.” You followed behind him, trying your hardest to keep the hope out of your voice.

“Of course, I want to see you tomorrow.” He moved in quickly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you had time to protest. “Goodnight Blue.” With a smile and a wink, he’s gone.

Weeks passed, and it could not be said that Francisco Morales wasn’t a persistent man. No matter how hard you tried to hang onto that anger, he excelled in chipping away at it. He was true to his word about working on building back the trust that had been lost, spending any time away from his work with Carson split between you, and working on his house.

He’d become quite the handyman in his time away, and he showcased that in the work he did in both his house and yours. He’d noticed your laundry line had broken and fixed it aggravatingly quickly. He spotted a few leaky spots in your roof and had them fixed at no cost to you, making you wonder just how much money he’d made while away. Aside from the windows and the cleaning you’d both done at his place, he’d replaced the more rundown furniture, and while it was missing some of the personal touches of his mother–it was definitely comfortable and livable once again.

The intense loneliness and craving for intimacy had also hit you full force with his return. You found yourself thinking back to how things had been when you’d been young and wildly in love with each other. How his mouth had always found yours, how he seemed to need to be close to you, his arm often around your shoulder, his hand always finding a way to clasp yours.

It was worse at night when other memories floated out of the isthmus of your mind, filling it with the visions of him above you, his tongue in your mouth, and his cock deep inside. You’d been young but eager to explore one another, and he had been nothing if not resourceful in finding any and all opportunities to get you out of your clothing. Now, the days were filled with new tortures, and you found yourself feeling jealous of the beads of sweat that rolled down his back, envious of the way his shirts seemed to hold him so tightly.

The way his eyes tracked you didn’t help the situation; they were just as wild, just as beautiful, and just as open and honest as they’d always been. His desire for you shining out at you through their honeyed gaze.

He’d been busy that morning, well and truly the sheriff now, and with that came more time away, giving you, in turn, more time alone. Or so you’d thought. The knock was loud, solid, and instantly, you knew it was him. You groaned, staring at the perfectly steaming water of the tub surrounding you.

“Not now, Frankie!” You called out to him from the back of the house–hoping for a moment he’d let you enjoy the sweet steam surrounding you. His knock came again, and you huffed, stepping out of the oasis and wrapping yourself up in your dressing gown. “Frankie, I’m kind of in the middle of something–” You opened the door to him, and instantly, his gaze raked over you, no doubt seeing the way the damp fabric clung to your body, leaving nothing to the imagination. The dumbstruck look on his face filled you with such satisfaction that you let him look his fill before moving your eyes to bring his attention back up. “Can I help you with something?”

“Uh–” He stumbled for a moment, his eyes moving back down to where the gown split, to where your leg and most of your thigh peeked through. “Um–I uh…”

“...You…?”

“Um…Sorry. I brought you a gift.” He shook his head for a minute before decidedly looking you in the eye. “I remember I took your copy; brought you a new one.” He held the book out to you, and for a moment, you forgot to be alluring.

“Jane Eyre?” You grabbed the book, opening it up quickly.

“I remember you reading it to me; thought maybe I could read it to you sometime.” His dimple shined, and you couldn’t help but leap into his arms.

“Oh, Frankie, I love it! I have been looking for a copy forever!” You pressed your face into his neck and relished how tightly he held onto you in return, relished the feeling of his nose buried in the crook of your neck.

“God, Blue, you smell good enough to eat.” His words, his voice, they ran down your spine like a drop of ice on a hot day, hardening your nipples and making you ache for him. You pulled away, biting your lip as you stared at his mouth.

“You could come in… and read to me?” He smiled and closed the door. “I was just in the bath. I could get in and cover myself with a cloth. You could read to me while I bathe.” He nodded slowly, gulping before following you, making sure to grab a chair on his way.

“Give me one minute to get in.” You closed the door, heart thumping at how the colour had gone out of his eyes, leaving them blown black. Within a few tense moments, you were back in the tub with the hangover of the lining cloth covering you under the milky, soapy water. “Okay–come in.”

He looked almost pained as he pulled up the chair beside you, his eyes once again greedy in their quest to map whatever part of you he could see, which admittedly is more than you planned to show him with how transparent the lining is.

“Shall I start at the beginning?” He flipped open the book, but his eyes were still locked on you.

“Yes, please.”

“Very well.” He took a deep breath, and began, his deep, soothing voice the perfect accompaniment to the steaming water.

“Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day–Oh, sorry, I already read that.” You smiled to yourself, enjoying the way he couldn’t seem to focus, the way he kept losing his place, and admittedly, it took everything in you not to pull him into the tub with you.

“That’s okay. Can you help me with this?” You offered him the soapy washcloth, “My back? It’s so hard to get it on my own.” You batted your eyes at him, smiling the smile he’d never been able to resist, hoping it still worked its magic on him.

“Let me rinse my hands first. I don’t want to muddy up this paradise.” He knocked the chair over in his haste to reach the washbasin you had on the counter. By the time he was finished and righting his seat, he had shed his topmost layers and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his biceps.

You leaned forward, giving him access to the skin of your back and sighing at the closeness of him when he pressed the soapy cloth to it.

“God, I missed you, Blue.” He rubbed at your shoulders slowly, his other hand slipping around to hold the top of your chest, just beneath the dip at the bottom of your throat. “Missed touching you, feeling you, kissing you.”

Your eyes closed, and you thought surely he must feel the way your heart raced just under your skin when his fingers curled softly around your neck.

“Been dying to kiss you for years.” You felt then how the cloth had been discarded, and his bare hand spanned the smooth skin of your back, massaging at your shoulders and the top of your spine. “You ever miss me like that?” His voice was a soft rasp now, lulling you up and back into his hand, letting the linen go and looking up into his eyes.

“Yes–I do, Frankie–all the time.” You bit your lip, staring at his mouth as he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?” He moved forward an inch, leaning in as his hands worked their spell against your skin.

“Yes-” You barely whispered the word before he pressed his mouth to yours softly. It was tender and oh so familiar, the way his lips moved against yours, his tongue seeking entrance and gaining it just like he’d done so many times before. Your kiss was a dance, the steps of which neither of you had ever forgotten. It ached, the way his mouth claimed yours, and you couldn’t help but lean into him, to reach up and hold onto him as he groaned into the kiss.

“I have been dreaming about this since I left–” He spoke between kisses, pressing them to your face, before licking into your mouth once more, “Can I touch you?”

You nodded, chasing his mouth again. His hand slipped down, slick with soap, and then he held onto your breast, kneading one and then the other, his thumb strumming against the sensitive buds while your cunt leaked for him. His eyes moved, watching himself touch you, his lip caught between his teeth,and all of a sudden, it was too much, and you move, pulling away and standing, naked as the day you were born.

“Take me to bed, Frankie.” He stared up at you from his place on the chair, and from the look on his face, you’d think he was looking at an angel. It didn’t last, though; within seconds, he was up and pulling you out of the tub, practically dragging you towards your bedroom.

Your breath came out in a huff when you landed on your back, smiling breathlessly at the look of pure hunger on his face. He chewed his lip as he pulled off his layers, going through them quick enough that you genuinely worried he’d rip them. The water that had clung to your skin from the bath, now seeped into the sheets underneath you as you watched him undress.

“I’m so fucking hard for you, Blue.” He kicked his denim off, tossing everything every which way, “So hard it hurts.” His cock bobbed as he finally crawled his way over to you, and it was then that you saw it, a significant scar on his side, like a starburst. Your hand reached out, and you pressed your fingers to it, looking into his eyes for an explanation.

He pulled your hand up and kissed the tips of your fingers, “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” He continued his pilgrimage across your body, stopping only to kiss your sternum, your hip, and the soft skin of your belly. “I missed seeing you like this so much-“ he opened your legs, groaning at the way your cunt glistened for him. “-I missed how fucking wet you get, how good you taste-“ he barely finished speaking before he dove in, his tongue parting you further, gliding over your clit with desperation.

“I missed you-oh-“ his hands clutched at your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth, pulling the strings of your arousal to pool for his tongue. “That feels so fucking good, Frankie—“ Your hands found the short crop of his hair, unsure of whether you wanted to pull him up or grind against him. He huffed a cocky laugh into your skin, doubling his efforts and tightening his grip on your thighs, his fingers indented into the skin. The steady glide of his tongue against your clit, up and down, up and down, has you falling over the edge of the cliff and your thighs clamping around his head.

It didn't stop him; his tongue kept moving, slower as you rode out your high. He bit at the plump of your inner thigh as you relaxed, smiling and shiny with your arousal.

“I missed that too.” He moved, pressing his lips to your belly again, moving up and licking a hot stripe between your breasts before slotting his hips between your legs. His skin was so warm, so welcome, that you couldn’t help but sigh and pull him close, your fingers curling into his hair.

“I wanted you to come back so badly-“ You covered every inch of his face in kisses, “Wanted you to stay with me, love me like this.” You licked into his mouth, tasting yourself in the kiss.

“I’m here, Honey, I’ll never leave you again-“ You can feel just how hard his cock is as it pressed into your belly, the two of you clinging to one another in the dying light of the day.

“Promise me, promise me you won’t leave me.” You reached down and wrapped your hand around the sizable heft of him, stroking slowly while positioning him at your entrance.

“Fuck-I promise baby, I promise you-“ His sentence ended in a filthy moan as you pulled him in with your heels, pressing into the meat of his ass, finally having him inside you again after everything.

You moaned at the way he filled you.

The last fifteen years melted away, the long stretch of loneliness feeling more and more like a dream with every deep stroke of his cock.

There were no more words, only whimpers from you and deep groans from him. There was the rhythmic rocking of your bed and the slick sounds of him moving between your legs. His hips snapped faster and faster as he chased his release, burying his face into the crook of your neck to feed all the delicious sounds he made directly into your ear.

“I’m so close, touch yourself—“ his voice sounded wrecked, moving his hips like a piston, his cock kissing that one spot only he ever found. You obey and reach down to swirl your fingers around your clit, rocketing yourself closer to another, more intense orgasm.

He moved his face down, holding onto your breast to suck on your nipple, and then the dam broke, and you clenched around him, moaning his name as you reached your peak.

“Fuck, that’s it, that’s so good, oh god—I’m gonna come-“ his hips sped up, the wet sounds of his thrusts louder after your second climax. You opened your legs wide, giving him space to move, but he stayed put.

“Frankie-“ You started to speak, trying to guide him to spill on your belly; still, he didn’t move. Instead, he pushed in deep, groaning loudly, and it was with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you felt him twitch inside.

You were frozen in place, momentarily shocked into silence.

“God—I’ve been dreaming of that for years.” He sounded drunk, pulling out of you with a hiss to take a good look at his handiwork.

“Francisco, did you just do what I think you did?” Your tone was devoid of any sweetness. “Did you just spill inside me?”

“Yes—“ he frowned, confusion colouring his face along with the flush of his exertion, “—I thought you’d forgiven me? We’re together again-“

“And me forgiving you means risking a baby?” You pulled away, wiggling out from under him to grab a linen shift from your drawer.

“Wait, Blue, come back.” He moved to sit at the edge of the bed, “I’m sorry I didn’t think. It just felt right.”

“Of course it felt right to you. You have no regard for how I might feel.” Your anger burned through you, where once there had been passion, it was now replaced with fear. A deep fear that the next time he decided to up and leave, it might not just be you waiting for him.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart, that’s not true-“

“I’d like you to leave.” Hot tears flowed down your face at the thought of being pregnant with his child, and alone, waiting to see how long it took him to return the second time.

“Baby, please—don’t make me leave, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that—“

“Leave! I want to be alone. Please just–just go home.” You wiped at your eyes before crossing your arms, doing your absolute best to avoid his gaze. He sighed loudly, moving slowly to gather his things, stopping only to put on his pants and his shirt before tucking tail and heading home.

He’d fucking blown it.

By some miracle, he’d managed to get into her good books, his persistence and determination to show her just how madly in love with her he was–how in love with her he’d always been–weeks worth of it, and he’d messed up in a few minutes. A few glorious, amazing minutes.

He couldn’t help but groan in annoyance with himself every time he remembered it, the euphoria of being with her again, being inside her, of having her wet and needy and so eager for him only to get lost in it and risk a baby they hadn’t yet discussed. Hadn’t even really discussed getting married, not since he’d come back.

He didn’t even know why he’d thought it’d be okay. It had been purely instinctual but also irresponsible and disrespectful. It shamed him that he couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop craving it. He ignored it, though, continued on with showing her his reliability and hoped she understood that she was all he wanted.

Sleep eluded you for days, refusing to find you until the blood came. It wasn’t much better when it finally did, though. There was the initial relief, of course, there would be no child born out of wedlock, and you would not be treated like a pariah, but where did that leave you? He apologized for it, constantly. He groveled, he begged for your time and for your love and forgiveness, and it was his. It was there–ready for him, but the fear hid it away.

No matter how consistent he’d been in his time back, no matter how much he’d assured and explained that he wasn’t going to leave, it still felt like there was a clock ticking somewhere you couldn’t see, counting down the seconds until you’d be alone again.

You tried to focus on other things, filling your days with organizing your home, with clearing out things that no longer served you, things that you had brought over from when your mother died and had actively ignored or hidden away until genuinely forgotten. There were old, moth-eaten rags that had once been her clothes, a few books, and an old hairbrush. Amongst her things, though, was a bundle of paper, a fat wad of it.

Confused, you pulled it apart and very quickly realized that they were letters and they were addressed to you. It was jarring to see your name in Frankie’s script and harrowing to realize that you’d had them the whole time without knowing.

With shaking hands, you opened them one by one, and by the third, the tears obscured your vision.

My Dearest Bluebell,

I know you must be angry with me, things aren’t moving as quickly as they should, but this changes nothing–I’m still coming home to you–

He talked about his time in the war, about how differently they did things where he was, and about how much money he was saving, but between all that was the same promise of return. It was everywhere, that–and his pleas for a response from you.

Please sweetheart, I need to hear from you, please let me know you’re okay, and that you don’t hate me–

You sobbed into them. The words were like wounds, the pain of being alone for so long is even sharper now than it had been before. He had been true to his word, writing letter after letter without a single word from you, and despite the pain of knowing that fact, you read every single one. The dates were consistent, every week, almost like clockwork, except for once–when there were a few months between two letters.

Bluebell, my love,

I am okay–but I was hurt. I barely remember what happened, but one minute I’m in the middle of it, fighting, and the next minute I was screaming and then blackness, until I woke up in a hospital. Nurse says I’m lucky to be alive and that I’m going to be okay–

It was too much, all of it, and despite the fact that it was late and he was most certainly asleep, you had to see him.

The moon followed you on your walk towards his house, lighting the path and keeping you company. There was a soft glow shining out from one of his windows, and it inspired hope, making it easier to knock on the door despite the hour.

There was movement on the other side of the door, his heavy footsteps padding across the old floorboards.

“Who’s there?” Suspicion threaded thickly through his words, and you couldn’t blame him; this was no hour for anyone to come calling.

“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?” Your voice was shaky, the tears had abated while you made your way over, but the worried look on his face when he opened the door threatened to let them flow once more.

“What’s the matter? What happened?” He was shirtless, holding his pistol at his side while he looked beyond you to inspect the horizon. “Come in, come in—“ He closed the door behind you, setting the pistol down with a frown. “What’s the matter, Blue? Why are you out at this hour?”

“I—“ you choked on the word, clutching at his letters, “Frankie, I found them, my mother��“ you sobbed out words, choking on them before he sighed.

“Oh Honey, please don’t cry.” He gathered you up, pulling you into the strong cage of his arms, and it was like the floodgates cracked open wide. One palm held the back of your head, and the other was wrapped around your waist. “You didn’t know, it’s okay.”

“I, I don’t even know what to say. I’m sorry,” your voice cracked with the agony of all of the lost years, “you wrote so many letters, and I never answered any of them, and you got hurt—oh god, you could have died!” It was hard to tell if you were screaming or sobbing anymore.

“Hey! Hey! Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he rubbed your back, a soothing gesture, “Hey, stop, stop, take a deep breath, I’m fine. I survived. There was nothing you could have done. I know you would have written to me if you’d gotten my letters, if you knew.” He pressed his lips to your temple. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner. I shouldn’t have left without you.”

“I should have known she’d do something like this. I–” You pulled away to look up into his eyes, “I am so angry at her. She let you carry on, just hid them without a care–even though she knew I was heartbroken.” You brushed his hair back before hugging him again.

“She never did like me. It was pretty cruel of her to do that to both of us.” He was being much more gracious about it than he should have, a testament to his love for you that he didn’t want to bash your mother despite the damage she’d done.

“Miserable old bitch.” You had no qualms about calling her what she was.

“Forget about her. It’s okay now. Thankfully, we’re together again.” He grabbed his pistol and led you further into the house.

Your fingers drew the shapeless pattern onto the warm skin of his chest for what must have been the hundredth time since the both of you tumbled into his bed an hour ago. It was still pitch black outside, the only light being a candle on his bedside. The sun would creep in soon enough, though, and when it did, it would find the two of you clinging to one another.

“I hate that you went through this alone.” Your fingers migrated down to the starburst on the side of his lower stomach, tracing the edges of it softly.

“I’m lucky, I made a full recovery.” His voice was soft, “I saw others get much worse.”

“That doesn’t minimize this, Francisco, you could have died out there, and I never would have known.” You squeezed your eyes together for a moment, ignoring the implications, “Can you ever forgive me? For not writing?”

“Only if you can find it in you to forgive me for being away so long and for what happened.” He pulled your hand up, pressing your knuckles to his lips.

“You’re forgiven for everything.” You frowned, “We hadn’t discussed our future, everything was still so up in the air, and I was terrified to get pregnant. Not because I don’t want to have your children, I was just terrified you'd leave me again and then I'd be here, alone and with a baby.” His face fell, guilt swirling around his features. “That was before. I believe you when you say you won’t and that you’re here for good.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, then to his lips.

“I understand why that would have scared you. I shouldn’t have done it without permission, though. It was careless of me.” He pulled you closer, relishing in the contact just like he had in the early days. There was a beat, a comfortable silence, and it stretched on for a while, the two of you content to lay there until the stiffness of your dress pulled you away. He helped you take it off until you were in your simple shift, and then you took your place beside him once more.

“Francisco?” You murmured, wondering if he’d fallen asleep.

“Yes?”

“I never said, but I’m sorry about your parents.” He’d been gone for years when they passed.

“Me too.” He didn’t say more, and you didn’t press. “You should get some rest. Will you stay with me?”

“Yes, I don’t want to go.” He got up for a moment, pulling the rest of his layers off before blowing out the candle.

“Good, I didn’t want you to leave.” He slipped into the bed, pulling his sheet over the both of you before pulling you in close. “Goodnight, Honey.”

“Goodnight, Frankie.”

The sun shone bright enough to shoo the last vestiges of sleep away. It found you warm and comfortable under the comforting weight of his arm over your belly and his leg tangled with yours. He looked younger, asleep and you could almost see him just as he was when he’d left, fresh-faced and eager to see and do as much as he could. That fire for life and all it entailed, burning brightly in every expression.

Your thumb traced the line of his jaw first, sweeping up his chin to glide across his pursed lower lip. He twitched but didn’t wake, only tightened his grip on you. Your thumb slid up, following the curve of his nose, up to smooth across his brow.

He stirred again, humming softly before pressing closer still, burying his face into the crook of your neck and tickling you with his moustache.

“Is it morning already?” His voice was sleepy but laced with pure joy.

“Yes, it is. How did you sleep?” Your tone matched his, his joy was contagious, hope and happiness swirling in the air much like the dustmotes that danced in each shaft of light. Your hands had migrated down, fingers flitting across his broad back, relishing every inch, every errant freckle.

“Better than I have in years. How about you?” His lips made their own pilgrimage, from just below your ear, down the column of your neck, and down to your shoulder; each press of his lips widening the smile on yours.

“I slept really well. I forgot how warm you get when you sleep.” He laughed at this, good-hearted.

“Good, means you don’t need to wear this–” His hands slid under your shift, grabbing greedily at your thighs, then your backside.

“Very clever. Don’t you need to get up and go to work, Sheriff? Or am I under arrest?” There was no real bite behind your words.

“Hmm, I don’t know, are you? Are you here to confess to a crime? Aside from stealing my heart, that is.” You let out a bark of laughter, rising slightly to let him take the shift off of you despite the game.

“Is that what I’ve done? Stolen your heart?”

“Oh yes, years ago. First day you smiled at me, come to think of it.” He nodded sagely for a moment before pressing his lips to yours softly, making you both melt and drip for him.

“Well then, I guess I deserve my punishment.” You reached down, shimmying out of your underthings to bare yourself to him. He bit his lip before dipping low to lick at the stiff peak of your breast, soft as his kiss, before taking your nipple into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks. You moaned, watching him enraptured.

“I’ll be just and fair.” He smiled, after letting go with a pop, moving to the next one to give it the same treatment. Your fingers curled into his short crop while your thighs pressed together to alleviate the aching at your core. He sucked harder, frantically, and then there was the edge of pain when he bit softly, making you gasp for a second before he once again soothed with his tongue.

“God, woman, you make me crazy.” His eyes were wild for a moment before he claimed your mouth again, his tongue plundering without mercy.

“I want you, Frankie–give it to me.” You reached down to grasp him in hand, but he moved away, denying you.

“I want to make you feel good. Let me taste you again.” He moved down, his lips mapping a course down to where you wanted him most.

“I want you, though, Frankie, want you to make me sore. You can use your mouth later.” You held your arms out to him, and although he stared at your mound with hunger, he obeyed.

You spread your legs for him, and he slots his hips, pulling your legs high onto his thighs for a moment before sheathing himself in you with one brutal, delicious stroke.

“God, Frankie, you’re splitting me open.” You moaned the words into his ear, and his head dropped into your neck, groaning at your words.

You reach down to hold onto his ass, grabbing onto it as he thrusts.

“You want me like this? Or you want me on my knees like you used to like?” You whispered, and he moaned, his hips stuttering for a moment before pulling out. It was the only answer you needed before you moved to get into position, presenting yourself to him.

His thighs pressed against the backs of yours, his hand landing heavy on one ass cheek before he entered you from behind. He felt deeper this way, hitting something otherworldly with each press.

“That’s my girl, you gonna take my big dick Honey?” You moaned into your forearm, arousal burning bright as a coal in the pit of your belly from his words, from the slick sounds of your joining, from the way your nipples grazed against his bedding.

He bent forward, pulling at your arms to hold them behind your back, and once he did, his efforts doubled. He was a piston, ramming into you hard enough to make your breasts bounce, hard enough to make you scream for him.

He moved you again, pulling you up to meet the solid wall of his chest, his chin hooking over your shoulder, one hand holding onto your breast, the other sliding down to swirl around your clit, shoving you headlong into a blinding climax.

“That’s it, baby, God, I can feel you squeezing my cock. Where do you want me to come? Can I come on your ass?” His words sounded frantic, and you nodded, barely whispering the words.

“Yes, Frankie–” He let you go, and you pressed your face into the mattress once more, spreading your legs a little wider before you felt him pull out, feeling the way his hand grabbed and spread you open while the other one pumped between your legs. You felt the hot spurt of him on the cheeks of your ass and the small of your back just as you heard the filthy groan he let out.

You both caught your breath for a moment, riding the wave of release before he moved and within a few minutes, he passed a cool, wet cloth across your skin, cleaning his mess off before discarding it and falling into bed beside you.

There was sweat on his brow, there was sweat on yours, too, but it didn’t matter, the euphoria was rich and sweet as fresh cider.

“I missed you so much, Frankie.” You turned to face him fully, the two of you naked and comfortable.

“I missed you too, Honey.” He pulled you close, wrapping you up in his arms, where you belonged.

–

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kausstar · 10 months

Text

LET LOOSE

tyler durden x reader￨sfw content￨wc: 1.1k

tyler didn’t take most things seriously, he would always grin from ear to ear when nothing was funny but he took things that came down to you a bit serious.

tags no description of reader besides you being good at pool and having ass! swearing. the narrator is referred to as “jack” because that’s what he calls himself in the movie. the plot is different from the movie. bleeding. fighting. violence. not proofread (it never is lol).

𝓴aus. i rewatched the movie and probably liked over 100 edits on tiktok about this movie so i could write this. i am too underrated for this.

just like every saturday, you, tyler and the brown haired, 30-year-old who couldn’t stop bitching about this “marla” chick, sat in a booth together at your favorite bar. jack on one side while you and tyler sat on the other— you probably resting your legs on his as you listened to jack’s rants.

“almost killed herself last week, fucking drug addiction,” jack says before taking a couple sips of beer, bags under his eyes practically becoming a usual thing to see. “she called you first?” you ask, feeling tyler stretch an arm over your shoulders. “yeah. she always does,” he groans as tyler mindlessly looks down at his watch on his right arm, then looks up at the two of you. “see?” he points at him, making the two of you look his way. “that right there is why you have that problem: she’s relying on you- draining you from the inside-out,” tyler says, gesturing up and down towards jack as he leaned over the table slightly.

“let loose,” tyler said, sitting all the way back in his sit. only the three of you knew what it meant because you promised you wouldn’t speak directly about it out in public. fight club was for people who needed that relief from the week days filled with government controlled jobs, contracts and systems. there is no need for crying and bitching when you were getting punched in the face, tyler believed. jack never understood how the two of you enjoyed watching people bleed from their mouths but tyler knew he would like it all the same, he just needed a little push.

“speaking of “letting loose” how much time do we have left?” you spoke, breaking the silence. tyler looks down at his watch again then looks over to you. “20 minutes.” 20 minutes until the basement of your favorite bar was filled with men who’s fists were itchy to crash into someone’s face. “well, i’m gonna go play pool,” you mumble out quickly before removing your legs from tyler’s, allowing him to get out of the booth so you can stand. once you’re out, he slides himself back into the empty seat.

you look over to jack and give him a provoking look he’s seen time and time again. “think about it,” you lightly smile. 10 minutes after you had left, jack had already started to ramble off again, talking about nonsense that could easily be fixed and that was in his complete control: that’s why tyler didn’t listen. “are you even listening?” jack groans. his groans made the blonde give him a short glance, just for him to look back the way he’d been looking for the past 10 minutes.

“no, and i haven’t for a while so once you’re done wallowing in self-pity…” tyler gives him another short glance but with a grin this time. “you can feast your eyes on something worth living for,” he finished, nudging his head in the direction behind his friend towards to the pool tables. now knowing tyler’s definition of “something worth living for”, he hopes he doesn’t see anything that’ll scar him for life, and fortunately, he doesn’t. it’s just you playing pool with two guys that are giving you the googly eyes of a lifetime. he’s confused so he looks over to tyler but only finds his friend grinning at you. jack looks back over to you, trying to find what was so special.

you stood in the farthest corner of the pool table from the two of them as you watched one of the them hit the white ball. once the loud noise of the balls hitting each other and two going into the holes cleared, the man stands from his leaning position and looks over at you, proudly. you only give him a grin, clearly not too impressed. you say nothing before taking a couple steps over.

the men playing only gave each other a grin (one that you didn’t catch) before looking back over at you who was leaning on the table, ribs touching the rim. tyler could see you perfectly from where he was sitting, arm up on the booth seat behind him, grin cut into his face, and eyes burning holes into the curve of your ass and that pretty face. he made sure to keep an eye an on the guys you were playing with who stood a bit too close to you for his liking but he let it slip his mind, allowing himself to focus on you.

once you lined up your stick, you took the shoot and watch as the 8 ball fell right where you wanted it. you smiled but quickly stopped when you feel a hand slide down the curve of your back to the top of your ass. you’re quick to stand from your leaning position. “what the fuck!?” tyler quickly stands from the booth and walks up from behind you. the guy removes his hand from you and take a couple steps back after spotting him, but tyler is quick to stand in front of you and throw a punch to the guys face.

you could practically hear his nose break under the impact. “what’s your fucking problem?” the guy swears, sharing a glance between tyler and his bloody fingers as he touched his bleeding nose. “we were playing pool,” he growled, finally covering his nose with his hand. “what? you think i didn’t see you getting a feel, dick face?” tyler asks, tilting his head to the side slightly with a grin. the guy says nothing making tyler grab him by his shirt and punch him a couple more time.

the guy was starting to go slightly limp in his grasp as he continued to throw punches. “take that shit downstairs, man!” irvine yells walking through the crowd that had gathered to watch—that you hadn’t seem to notice until then. tyler notices the voice and stops. before he lets him go though, he takes a good look the guy, face bloody, eye black and swollen, and cheeks bruised then turns his ear to you.

“you think that’s enough, baby?” he grins, his slightly leaning position giving you a clear view of the guys face. “perfect,” you grin, and tyler smile even harder. he then loses his grip on the guys shirt and tosses him slightly. him almost falling over as a result but before he can tyler whispers, “i got ya,” to himself before, locking hands with the guy and helps him gain his balance. with no intentions of letting his hand go, tyler gives the crowd a look before turning his attention back to the man and leaning in to whisper. “next time, i’ll make sure it’s both eyes,” he whispers, before pulling back with a grin and a wink.

tyler grabs the guy’s wallet from his pocket picks a couple buck from it, before folding the bucks in half between his fingers and waves it in his face. “payment… you know, for my worries,” he grins before passing it back to you and you take it proudly. he slips the wallet back into his pocket and gives him one last look before punching him dead in his face again, but this time he hits the floor, hard. before irvine could yell out, tyler puts his hands up with a grin. “my hands slipped. sorry.”

irvine only gives the both of you a hard glare as you and him walk around the pool table. tyler checks his watch as he walks, smile beaming. “showtime,” he whispers to himself. “you’re a pain in my ass,” irvine groans as the two of you walk pass him to get to the basement. “love you too,” tyler grins before patting him on his chest. “come on, jack.” you gestured for your friend who stood smiling like most people in the crowd.

 2023 kausstar.

#⋆ 𐙚 ₊ ˚ star #fight club 1999 #fight club fanfic #fight club #tyler durden x reader #tyler durden fanfic #tyler durden smut #tyler durden #tyler durden oneshot #tyler durden imagines #tyler durden imagine #tyler durden fanfiction

432 notes · View notes

liaarxse · 11 months

Text

Get off damn it!

Headcanons

TR characters cuddling with you after a fight

Characters: The Kawata twins (separately), Matsuno Chifuyu, Manjiro Sano

Warnings: None, crack

A/n: This freeky AI bot is giving me way too many ideas.

Souya Kawata

Let's get straight to the point, you know it, he knows it, y'all cuddling after a fight ASAP

Not even a fight, even if it was just a meeting

Y'all cuddling ok? Ok.

He's usually pretty riled up after a fight and has more energy

Tells you all the drama bitch

Literally get out your notepad now

Maybe he let a tear fall here and there, but that's about it

But oh

Ohhh

OHOHOHOHOOOO

God forbid he straight up cries like in that one manga chapter (I can't remember which one it was)

Pray

Even if you don't pray, pray

Even if you are a Satanist, pray

Even if you're a God or a Devil, pray

You and Nahoya both know the shit that's about to go lose

Just stay put and wait for him

He comes to your place as if in a matter of seconds, changing and throwing himself onto you, breaking down

Well, shit.

He's cursing them out, saying how he beat their ass and would do it again, while crying

How?

Idk

Don't ask me they ain't real

But show this boy some love. He deserves it. Caress his scalp, play with his hair, place tender kisses on his face, and just hold him for a bit longer

He'll return the favor as soon as possible.

Nahoya Kawata

Ah, fuck, not again

He gets into a fight every single day

And always comes to your place so you can fix him up

"Hey baby."

"Nahoya your face is literally deformed what the fuck."

Just fix him

Not because he deserves it but because he's annoying as shit and won't leave you alone

Once, he broke your window and crawed into your room at 4 in the morning to tend his wounds

He paid for your therapy sessions dw

Since he's 24/7 injured, he always smells like blood

Like, ew?

Once he came by after a nasty fight all injured and blooded up

You gagged

LMAOOOOO

"Fuck you."

"Sure."

🤡

He always throws his bloody ass on your new sheets, and you go BERSERK

You once hit him in the head cough Deja Vu cough with a broom because he ruined your sheets

He smirked at that comment

You kicked him outside

He crawled back in and trapped you in a hug

That lasted all night

"Nahoya let go I need to pee."

"Bitch hold it in."

He loves you, i swear

Matsuno Chifuyu

Blooded your sheets on accident

Don't be mad please

Here, pet Peke J

You mad?

You don't get to pet Peke J

Loser\j

In all honesty, he's reckless.

Every. Fucking. Time. He comes by the next day you're restocking on aid supplies.

Stg he better start paying up

Once called you in the middle of a fight with his nose bleeding and a few bruises on his face

"I'm coming over later, babe!"

"MATSUNO HOLY SHI—"

He hung up

Your ass went CRAZY before he came knocking on your door

He was injured

A lot

Really

Is he half dead?

Will he make it through the night?

Will—

Hey he brought Peke J!

Everything Is fine

He cleaned up before cuddling with you but still managed to dirty your sheets

"You're lucky my son is here."

"That's my son, pussy."

Y'all love Peke J more than your relationship/j

He changed your sheets and went back to cuddling you

If needed he'll buy new ones

Baby boy, baby 🫶

Manjiro Sano

Bfr, you woke up, and your boyfriend was sleeping right next to you, beaten up

You screamed

He screamed

You threw a book at him

He got a concussion

Great, more blood

"Damn it Manjiro I just bought these sheets!"

"Are you insane?"

Maybe lol

After leaving the room you still felt the smell of blood.

Looking down you saw your favourite pj smeared with droplets of blood from none other than MIKEY

He had cuddled you while you slept personally in blooded clothes

You chased him with a pan

Seven AM the usual morning line-up

Start on the chores and sweep till the floor's all cleEeeeeEN

Imagine Mikey as Rapunzel though

Them dark impulses gon kick in hard up inside that tower

Give him love too, please, #helptakemichiwiththesemessedupbastards

539 notes · View notes

f1letters · 1 year

Text

anti-hero | cl16

"I wake up screaming from dreaming, one day, I'll watch as you leaving"

summary: no matter how many times charles told her she was more than enough, this misogynistic world kept giving her reasons to run away

warning: a little bit of angst but fluffy end, driver!reader, Williams!reader, kind of secret/private relationship, mentions of parental abandonment, daddy issues (cause same lol), misogynistic and degrading comments towards the reader, slut shamming, swearing, self-sabotage, low self-esteem, anxiety, just an overload of ups and downs, platonic!reader x alex albon

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

word count: 3.6k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.

french words used: mon ange = my angel; mon amour = my love

is it possible to fall in love with your own fictional character? cause I think I just did! hope you enjoy this (not really surprising haha) anti-hero story!

masterlist

I have this thing where I get older, but just never wiser

Midnights become my afternoons

When my depression works the graveyard shift, all of the people

I've ghosted stand there in the room

Life seemed to be falling apart for Y/N.

In the middle of the dark room, the only noises that filled the deafening silence were the ticking sound coming from the big clock on the wall, and the troubled thoughts that seemed to reappear in her head night after night.

Tick. Tock.

Time passed and passed, but Y/N remained there, frozen, haunted by her own demons.

To be completely frank, life had never really felt right for the young woman.

The battle in her head was something usual, ever since she was just a little girl. It didn't matter how old she got, she never got wiser.

It felt completely unreasonable how she could feel herself drowning in sadness when just hours before she had had one of the happiest days of her life.

Charles's strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, the skin of her back against his warm chest, their eyes fixed on the dazzling sunset before them on the clear waters of Monaco, as they lay on the bed of his yacht.

The warm tones that painted the skies and waters were intoxicating, as was Charles's presence.

As much as she tried to keep her attention on that magical gift of nature, Y/N could only thank fate for having that wonderful man by her side.

I don't know what I did to deserve you, she thought to herself.

"Mon amour?" The Monegasque's voice woke her from her trance. "Do you think we... Forget it, it's silly."

The girl turned towards her boyfriend, their eyes now connected, just inches apart. "What is it, Charles? You know you can tell me anything." She said, though her anxiety was already starting to creep up in her stomach.

He took a deep breath, gathering all the courage in him, and with her eyes shining brighter than ever, she asked. "Do you think we'll ever get married?"

Her heart skipped a few beats at the driver's words, looking as nervous as ever, but for a second... Y/N allowed herself to dream.

"If it's not you, I'll never be with anyone else, Charles Leclerc. You're it for me."

Hours have passed since one of the most breathtaking moments of her life, and there she was: scared to death about the future.

Charles was fast asleep in their room, his light snores echoing down the hall through the open door.

Y/N looked at the time - 12:05 AM.

It was midnight, and the girl just sat on the leather couch in their living room, with only silence for company.

As the girl got up to go back to her bed where her boyfriend was waiting for her, she couldn't understand how she got everything she ever dream of, but she just couldn't feel as happy as she should have.

I should not be left to my own devices

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crisis

(Tale as old as time)

For as long as she can remember, she's been that way.

She could remember the exact moment when her world changed, when her walls closed in around her, when everything she knew crashed into pieces to the ground.

For little Y/N, just an innocent child at the time, her father's sudden absence from their home seemed inexplicable. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and there was no sign of him.

With no message, no farewell, no explanation.

Just like air, he was just… gone.

The colourful house where she laughed and played with both of her parents quickly became a set of broken walls, colourless and lifeless.

Her mother had never been the same ever since, and even today the young woman cannot forget the image of the woman she loved most in her entire life, sitting on the old sofa in her childhood home, exhausted, empty, without the energy to cry anymore.

Much like she mirrored it now.

Months turned into years since her father left her but, like a ghost standing there in the room, the lingering consequences of his actions still haunted her until that day.

No matter how much therapy she got, Y/N always felt like that lonely girl who could never make friends, who sabotaged every single relationship she had.

It seemed the only permanent companion she was going to have in her life was her crushing, persistent depression.

That was until she met Charles, right at the moment she most needed a shoulder to lean on.

It was 2020 - the year her biggest dream finally came true.

Y/N was finally going to become a Formula 1 driver.

Wherever she looked as she entered the circuit for the first time, the young woman could sense the eyes fixed on her and the curiosity that revolved around her.

Y/N L/N, the first woman in the 21st century to be part of the very competitive F1 grid, the promising new rookie racing for Williams Racing.

It was a whole mix of emotions: the happiness, pride and satisfaction that the new young driver felt for fulfilling her dream couldn't help but be overshadowed by all the controversy, hatred and hostility that her entry into the sport brought with it.

'This is not a girl's sport'

'She must have slept with someone important'

'She's just a pretty face'

Y/N heard it all while trying to turn a deaf ear to all these hateful people.

The girl sat in the chair in the middle of the conference room, prepared to face the world on her first day in media, but reality quickly managed to bite back at her when one of the interviewers walked over to her, eyes wide with scorn plastered in his face.

"Question for Y/N: How does it feel to know that such a talented driver was left with no seat in the team for you to join, just because you're a woman?"

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day, I'll watch as you're leaving

'Cause you got tired of my scheming

(For the last time)

To say the woman was taken aback was an understatement.

Her voice seemed to have disappeared and her brain to have stopped being able to form sentences as she tried to understand the complete, unfair misogyny she was suffering just for being a person trying to achieve her goals, regardless of gender.

Out of nowhere, a warm voice echoed through the room, drawing all attention to him.

"How about you stop being a complete idiot and try to do your job like a professional instead?" The brunette in red spoke, full of confidence and determination. "Y/N is here because she deserves it and because she has immense talent. No one here is going to take credit away from her just because they're a sexist pig."

Her eyes threatened tears as his met her grateful gaze.

Little did she know that the hero who stood up for her would end up being the love of her life.

Back to that day, Y/N suddenly woke up from her dream screaming, still tormented by the discrimination she had to face and still had to face until that very day.

"Hey, hey..." Charles woke up, cupping her face gently in his hands, making her look towards him as he wiped the tears that were streaming from her eyes. "Are you all right? Breathe, mon ange. It was just a dream."

"Yes, it's okay." Y/N swallowed hard, lying through her teeth. "It was just a nightmare, Charles. Don't worry."

He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight to comfort her, but in reality, in the back of her mind, she could only think of the worst.

He deserves so much better than the mess I am. He'll get tired and just leave me one day. Like everybody else does.

It's me, hi

I'm the problem, it's me

At teatime, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Until sunrise, the girl stayed awake, her mind doing what she knew how to do best: racing.

Not even the strong arms that enveloped her body, or the heat that her partner's body emitted were capable of transmitting some calm, or some security.

She was the problem.

Tired of lying in bed without any rest, Y/N gave up on being there and, exhausted, she got up, heading back to the cold living room in the centre of the apartment.

She tried everything to get her mind away from the negativity poisoning her system: reading a book, watching a movie, cooking breakfast. But all in vain.

Hours passed before she heard Charles's footsteps interrupting the silence, and soon she could see her boyfriend, shirtless, showing off his excellent physical shape, and stretching as he walked towards her.

"Good morning, mon amour." Charles said, hugging his girlfriend's body from behind and placing a soft kiss on the top of her shoulder. "Did you make breakfast? Damn, I'm lucky." He chuckled, still noticeably sleepy.

You're lucky? You deserve so much more than this, than me, her self-sabotaging thoughts returned.

"So what are we going to do today?" The man asked as he bit into the toast in his hand. "I was thinking we could have lunch at that restaurant by the marina that you love so much."

"I can't, Charles. I have to go to the team headquarters later." Falling back into her harmful tendencies, and without having the courage to look back at him, Y/N tried to keep her distance from him, using the scheduled meeting (which she didn't need to attend) as an excuse.

"Ah okay…" The Monegasque felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, as he sensed that something wasn't right with her. "If you want to do something when you get-"

"We'll see." She interrupted, answering dryly. Y/N grabbed her things and headed towards the entrance, her eyes still unable to take in his image. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, mon ange." He agreed, trying not to pressure his girlfriend. "I love y-"

He hadn't even finished talking and she was already out the door.

Sometimes, I feel like everybody is a sexy baby

And I'm a monster on the hill

Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city

Pierced through the heart, but never killed

Within a few hours, Y/N arrived in Wantage, where her second home was: the elegant, welcoming HQ of Williams Racing.

Although still fragile, Y/N felt slightly more energetic and optimistic just being there, the memory of her professional success enough to give her a small boost of self-esteem.

The girl would never be able to put into words how grateful she would feel for the rest of her life for the chance the team gave her.

Entering through the large glass door, Y/N soon found Jost, her team principal, who supported her unconditionally during her two years on the team. The two quickly fell into casual conversation, rambling about the car's performance and the strategies used in previous races.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, until the voice of one of the engineers chanted through the walls of the long corridor, clearly unaware that he was being heard.

"I just don't understand what that she is fucking doing here, man. Y/N is just a little girl, we need a strong man behind that wheel."

The man quickly came face to face with the duo, fear spreading across his face: not for hurting Y/N's feelings - that he couldn't care less; but because he got caught red-handed by his superior - a man, that held the power over his job.

Jost tried to put a hand on the young woman's shoulder, but her body was already out of sight as the driver made her escape, the sound of Capito's scolding the rude man barely audible to her as she ran away from the scene.

She was the problem.

She simply would never be good enough.

Did you hear my covert narcissism

I disguise as altruism

Like some kind of congressman?

(Tale as old as time)

Unbeknownst to the girl, her teammate, Alex, couldn't help noticing her tearful figure escaping towards the garden that decorated the back of the headquarters.

Without thinking twice, the Thai hurriedly followed her, gently grabbing her wrist to stop her.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" The boy asked him, a worried look on his face.

Despite the girl being able to count on one hand the true friendships she managed to build in her entire life, Alex Albon was one of the few people she really connected with.

The genuine, loving boy felt almost like the brother she never had, protecting her with everything he had since the day she joined Williams.

Two years had passed since then and his presence in her life was now unparalleled and irreplaceable.

"Just tale as old as time." She spoke without thinking, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Forget it. It's no big deal."

Her friend put his arm around the girl's shoulders, pulling her into a comforting hug. "You know I can read you like the back of my hand, Y/N."

"It's just…" The girl sobbed, letting her cheek rest against the tall man's chest. "I'm fed up. Sometimes I just want to give up on it all, on Formula 1, on motorsports. I'm tired of feeling less than everyone else just because I'm not a man."

"Hey, look at me." Alex said, placing both of his hands on the girl's forearms. "You're here because you deserve it. You've won championships in the junior categories. You've scored a hell out of points for a driver in a car like Williams. You and I are literally the most successful duo in the team in the last decade."

The girl couldn't help but laugh softly, sniffling her nose. "When you put it that way..."

"Believe me, Y/N." Albon spoke, hugging the girl he saw as his 'little sister' again. "I'm so proud of you, Charles is so proud of you, all the drivers on the grid are. Fuck what others think."

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day, I'll watch as you're leaving

And life will lose all its meaning

(For the last time)

To say that Alex made her feel so much better was an understatement.

Suddenly, Y/N had a pep in her step, a grin from ear to ear, a renewed energy within her and an eagerness to return home to the one she loved.

The girl couldn't help but feel guilty for the way she treated Charles that morning, so she decided to surprise him with her early return and also a small gift.

Y/N was a gift giver, especially for Charles, who always looked like a little boy on Christmas Eve every time she did so.

Charles had spent weeks and weeks drooling over a sweater from his favourite brand, helping his girlfriend choose the gift. With her headphones in her ears, the girl glided through the aisle of the store in Monte Carlo, straight to the selected piece of clothing.

As she searched for the correct size, the side of her face heated up as she felt someone's attention suddenly on her. The whispers distracted her from what she was doing and she discreetly turned down the music on her phone to listen to what the two laughing girls were saying.

"I don't know, I've heard rumours about them but I don't think so."

"I hope not, I mean, he's Charles Leclerc! He can have any girl he wants."

"You're so right. He's probably just fucking some bikini model on the low."

The sweater remained on the hanger, as Y/N left the store empty-handed.

It's me, hi

I'm the problem, it's me

At teatime, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

It looked like she simply couldn't catch a break that day: the world was determined to bring her down.

Opening the apartment door, Y/N entered, being immediately seen by her boyfriend who had a smile the size of the world.

"Mon amour, you're back!" He got up from his chair, nearly tripping over his own feet with the excitement that filled him. "You don't understand how happy I am to see y- What's wrong, Y/N?"

The boy was caught off guard by the discouraged, beaten-down look on his partner's face, as he expected her to come home happy to have visited the team she loved so much.

"Charles, we need to talk." She spoke, her eyes still not looking at him, similar to the morning.

"I don't like that tone. Are you going to break up with me or something?" He joked nervously, trying to break the tense atmosphere between them.

However, when he looked at her, Charles understood that this was exactly what she was thinking about.

Suddenly, the weight of the velvet box he'd been keeping in his pocket seemed to have tripled.

I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money

She thinks I left them in the will

The family gathers 'round and reads it and then someone screams out

"She's laughing up at us from Hell"

After a few agonizing seconds of silence, the young woman gathered her courage and looked at the other driver, who had a terrified look on his face.

Charles felt a multitude of emotions at once; he was scared, confused, angry, desperate.

How could she try to do that to him when he was preparing to take the next step in their relationship?

"Charles, don't look at me like that." Y/N turned her tearful gaze to the ground, not having the strength to watch the boy's heart break as hers did. "It's for the best. You deserve so much. You are the best person in this whole fucking world, and I... I'm just me: talentless, worthless me. You can do so much better than-"

"Don't even dare finish that sentence." Charles threatened, lovingly grabbing the girl's face by her jaw and forcing her to look him in the eyes. "I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much. I love you more than anything and anyone in this world."

The girl couldn't hold back the sob that threatened to come out of her lips, as she shook her head in opposition to the words the Monegasque was saying.

"Just stop!" The man said, his voice rising. He leaned his forehead against hers, wiping her cheeks with one of his hands. "It's you. You're it for me, remember? You told me so, and I feel the same way about you."

"There is no one else for me. No one better than you, no one who makes me feel like you do, or who I want to spend the rest of my days with." Charles continued speaking, trying to make the girl realize how much she meant to him, desperate to change her mind.

He felt her body relax slightly against his and he knew right there: it was now or never, this was the moment for his grand romantic gesture.

Guided by his impulsiveness, Charles reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out the navy blue box, setting it on the counter in front of her.

Y/N felt her breathing stop. Was that what she thought it was?

The Ferrari driver opened the small box, showing her the most perfect diamond ring inside.

"You are the love of my life, and I never doubted that for a single second. So please, make me the happiest man in the world and marry me."

It's me, hi

I'm the problem, it's me

It's me, hi

I'm the problem, it's me

It's me, hi

Everybody agrees, everybody agrees

God, she wanted to say yes.

But she couldn't. Not when he came into her life as a hero rescuing her from the world, and she...

She was just an anti-hero in his story.

Selfishly, Y/N wanted nothing more than to accept his proposal and fall into his arms.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Charles?" The girl looked at him fearfully.

"Mon amour, just say yes and end my agony once and for all." Even in a moment like that, the man still managed to find humour in the situation, letting out a small laugh and placing a tender kiss on her lips.

Both deposited all the love they felt for each other in that kiss, getting stuck in the moment as if they were the only people in the world.

"Yes." Y/N gave in, opening her eyes surprised when she realized that word had slipped out of her mouth without her even realizing it.

Charles smiled at her, picked her up from the floor and kissed her. And he kissed her again, and again, his lips just couldn't stay away from hers. "Yes, Charles. Yes. Yes!" She repeated, gradually becoming more and more confident.

With tears in both of their eyes and a shiny new ring around her finger, she looked at the man in front of her: a man who loved her unconditionally with all her flaws, all her struggles, and all her past.

Right then and there, Y/N knew that Charles was her true home, and she could only belong in his arms.

Maybe things weren't falling apart.

Maybe things were starting to fall into the exact places where they needed to.

It's me, hi

I'm the problem, it's me

At teatime, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

taglist: @dan3avocado @starxqt @roseinnej @spiidergirlsworld @ccloaned @hotpigeon22 @dr3lover @lovelytsunoda @primadonnasdream @luxebeautystyle @wallfloweriism @ilivefortheleague @gwynethhberdara @satellitelh @adavenus @audreyscodes @wifeoflucyboynton @th6ccnsp6cyy @classifiedsblog @flyingmushroomss @motylekrozi @claramllera @gabrielamaex @handsupforamiracle @pierre-gasssllyy @lorenaloveslewis

@idkiwantchocolatee @simpforsunwoo @kissatelier @xweirdxsceletton @micksmidnights @miniminescapist @inchidentwithmax @hopelesslyromantics-world @alwaysclassyeagle @indieclarke @capela-miranda @okokoksblog-blog @pulpfixion @sins-only33 @sainzclerc @allisonxf1 @honethatty12

@amsofftrack @flannel-cures @junkiespromise @loudoperahumanoidpanda @honeyric3 @holy-macncheese-balls @ricciardosheart @pierreverstapkin @ravenqueen27 @majkaftorek @home-of-disaster @buendiabebeta @itgirlofnowhere @roses-of-eden @thewintersunset @rubychocolatechips

(taglist continues in the comments)

thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌

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soothinglee · 15 days

Text

coffee shop breakdowns──★ ˙☕️ ̟ ¡!

| choi beomgyu x fem! reader ─ 2.69k wc✔︎

my notes⎯ i've always wanted to write something coffee shop au and at first i was going to write for yunjin of zb1 but change of plans lol ! (ill still write for yunjin in the future though !) I hope you enjoy, i tried to make it funny( 〃．．). (i know the ending is abrupt, it's 1 am and im exhausted and i really want to publish this). warnings⎯ swearing (mainly f bombs), mentions of exhaustion and overworking (?), and taehyun makes a brief appearance. songs⎯ 사랑으로; wave to earth

나의 작은 마음도 그 안에 작은 파도처럼 부서지고 밀려와선 네게 녹아내리고 그제서야 보이는 나의 영원

⎯ navigation✰ [requests are open]

THE COFFEE SHOP was always busy between 9 to noon, when the college students came in for a fix of caffeinated shots after staying up late cramming in assignments, or partying.

The line of people continued to grow until it reached the door, making it hard for newcomers to come in. Some opted to hop back into their cars and into the deserted drive-through. With each order came more glassware, covered in sticky toppings and cookie crumbs. Unfortunately for you, you always seemed to get scheduled on busy days. Even more unfortunate, the glorified task of dish duty was assigned under your name at the start of your 8-hour shift.

You reach up to nudge the tight knot on your apron's neck.

If exhaustion doesn’t kill you by the end of the night, the choker on your neck should do the trick.

After putting another load into the dishwasher, which was on its last leg due to its slight malfunction when you got a spoon stuck in the disposal, you bend over the sink. There was a slight twitch in your eye out of the sheer annoyance that yet another person went on their break when you had yet to get your own.

The screaming baby in dining is not helping the raging headache pounding in your temple.

“Will someone shut that thing up?” a grunt rises from your throat as you go to stand, wincing when your back cracks loudly.

In the corner of your eye, you see a hand place another dish in the black tub, and a laugh follows. “That's not a nice way to talk about a paying customer.”

You don’t even have to turn around to know who it is.

“If you think a baby works a 9-5 job, with enough money to afford a cup of coffee in this economy, you have another thing coming for you.” The rebuttal comes easy from your lips, months of practice and debates working in your favor with fast responses.

“I mean if they really put their mind to it, babies could take over the world.” The response is quick and witty, an unconscious choice of words followed by a playful hip bump that makes you keel over and onto the wall. Your knees were so close to giving in after standing all day. The thought of sitting on the floor, though covered in unidentifiable grit, seems like heaven for the joints. “Long day?”

A scoff leaves your lips as your head connects to the wall. A way of saying you have no idea. The weight of your eyelids grow heavier with every passing second. No matter how many times you try to keep them open, it’s to no avail.

You look like a toddler fighting sleep.

The question passes through one ear and out the other. Your co-worker waits for another second (perhaps for a response) then giggles when there is none. Though you can’t see him, you can vaguely imagine what he’s doing with all of the commotion going around the cramped space. There’s a slosh coming from the three-compartment sink, a rag hitting the dishes hurriedly, and then the dishwasher handle being pulled up paired with a strenuous huff.

“Holy fuck this thing is heavy,” is mumbled quietly as more thumping continues. Something in the more conscious part of you can't figure out if the room is spinning beneath the dark in your eyes or the headache that spreads itself to the base of your skull.

Where's Tylenol when you need it?

“Beomgyu,” The name comes out weak- a thick coat of fatigue blankets your throat. You clear it a couple of times before trying again. “You don’t have to do it for me.”

Please, please, please do it for me.

He stops pouring out the unused coffee grains to look down and give you a judgmental once over. His eyes flit to your frizzy wannabe ponytail that has one too many flyways, to the apron string on your shoulder that was one fast head turn to the man upstairs, and then to your jeans, that were covered ankles up in milk and chocolate sauce?

Beomgyu hopes that it's chocolate sauce.

With the way he looks at you, a fire lights your cheeks ablaze and you have to turn your head away from him. It feels like you're on RuPaul's Drag Race getting judged on the dress you made but it looks like a ten-can special and a bottle of mid-life crisis. The embarrassment wants to conceal itself with a “Bitch you don’t look better!” retort, but your mouth is glued shut.

“With the way you’re slouched over, I don’t think I have a choice.” He sighs almost pitifully, who knows for you or himself. Even though he was the one who willingly started doing your tasks for you. After a second the tap stops, and then some shuffles of footsteps. They become louder until it stops. “Get up, you look pathetic.”

Get up?

Without realizing it, at some point your body went dumb and slid itself onto the floor. It was a relief to be off your feet and to let your body rest but at the same time,, you can’t remember the last time these floors said hello to a mop and pine-sol. Oh boy. Good thing today is wash day.

“Can’t.”

Beomgyu raises an eyebrow and lets out an agitated breath. “The hell you can.”

“Can’t.” You repeat, throwing in a piteous whine, lifting up your arms so forcefully that he flinches back quickly. “Up.”

“(Name)…” The desperation in his voice is comical. He does not want to lift you like a child. “You are a grown woman, this is embarrassing for you.” He says it like multiple people are watching, a crowd to be sheepish around in your debilitation. You give him a look; eyebrows scrunched, lips upturned, and the worst case of stink eye. Your arms are still dangling limply in the air.

He hesitates for a second.

And another.

Then finally, he grabs you by the wrists, and for a second it feels like you’re flying. It seems as though he might have underestimated how much strength to put into the haul because after what feels like minutes in the air you go crashing into his arms.

“You need to take a shower.”

“And you need to change your clothes. Looks like you got shit on your pants.”

He maneuvers your arms first, throwing one of them over his shoulder while trying to keep you upright with his other hand. You were exhausted to the point where you couldn’t keep your eyes open, but not to the point where you couldn’t stand. You allowed yourself to fall limp to give him a hard time.

He struggles for a few seconds, panicking when you almost slip from his grasp. You can tell that he's nervous about holding you, the way his hands stutter trying to find a place to put them to hold you up. They move from your waist, to your side, to your stomach, finally finding its home in your belt loop. If that would’ve lasted any longer you would have just placed his hand wherever and told him to hurry the hell up.

“You don’t look any better,” you grab onto his left shoulder, holding the material in a tight grip because you do not trust Choi Beomgyu to keep you steady, “You got a little something…” there's a small smudge of coffee dust in the middle of his chest and you put your finger on it.

Beomgyu looks at you funny then at your finger, and after a moment a sly smirk plays on your lips.

What a dumbass.

With a slick flick of the finger you pop him in the nose. Effectively making him reel his head back in pain. “There.”

At his reaction you start to cackle loudly like a deranged person. You have to bend over to catch your breath, taking Beomgyu down with you. He tries to shimmy your hand off of his shoulder but you have an iron clasp, and after a moment he gives up seeing you aren't detaching yourself anytime soon. “Ow-! You bitch!”

There's an instant change of emotion. A sarcastic frown replaces the beaming smile. Beomgyu feels heat rising up his neck. For some reason, it’s not because he feels mad, but the way you're looking at him makes him feel…uncomfortable?

He’s unsure.

“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” You reply, allowing him to drag you like a rag doll to the break table. A small school desk hidden behind an enormous ice machine that admits heat hotter than the Sahara.

“Nothing about you is considered ‘a lady’.”

“Girl fuck you.”

As you pass by the short hallway leading to the front a head peeks out of the main office. Tufts of black hair and wide eyes look around the corner towards Beomgyu (trying) holding you as you still cackle from the childish trick you pulled on him. The look on his face is indescribable, blank but definitely annoyed.

“Everything… okay out here?” Taehyun asks before he actually takes a good look at the two of you. After a second of staring he blinks, “Beomgyu, why are you holding (Name)?”

He points to you without looking and responds monotonously, “She’s going on her break now. Have Iseul take over for her in the meantime.” Taehyun nods and slithers back into the office without another word.

“Aww Beomgyu,” You coo, letting out a breath when he throws you into one of the two chairs, “You’re so sweet, you didn’t have to do this for me.” Your hand finds its way to his cheek, pinching the skin lightly like a grandma would a young child. Who knows why, but he allows it to happen a second longer, your face scrunched up affectionately as you mumble out praises.

He swats your hand away, rubbing at the reddened skin, “You’re right, I didn’t.” You frown again, “I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart.”

“You have a heart?”

He doesn't say anything in response. His hand connects with your forehead, pushing it back with enough force that it sends you backward, leaning against the wall. There's a shout at the register that you can’t quite make out, but by the way, Beomgyu takes a glance at you and then back towards the cashier and then runs off, you can only imagine that it's regarding you and the lack of clean cups up front. Man forget those cups. Your entire body feels sluggish and your brain feels insanely heavy. A nap sounds so good right now but you're not even halfway through your shift and still have 5 hours left to complete.

Somewhere in the conscious part of your mind, you make a mental note to change your hours.

If you remember.

You don’t know how long it's been since Beomgyu left you but at some point you began to doze off. Roughly around NREM 1 and 2 a voice abruptly breaks the silence, “Whipped cream or no whipped cream?”

A snort leaves your mouth as you jolt up, startled. “What?”

“Whipped cream or no whipped cream?” He repeats back, irritation lacing his words as he taps his foot impatiently as if he has anywhere else to be.

“Um…” You respond after a moment, still not coherently present, “Whipped…cream…?”

Beomgyu nods his head once and disappears again.

He’s so fucking strange.

Your relationship with Beomgyu has always been a little weird. From the beginning when he first joined the team he was this nervous ball of energy, always messing up orders and occasionally spilling coffee on customers. You had, obviously, given him shit for it because it’s not that hard to mess up a latte. To your surprise that nervous energy made him a good fast talker because it took you two days to finally understand the insults he spat back. The next shift you two had together was not… pleasant, to say the least.

It was mainly a game of cat and mouse, you’d say something to aggravate him and he’d respond, and vice versa. It was fun, it kept you on your toes and gave you something to look forward to every time you had to work. Having a job at a coffee shop always keeps you moving and a lot more times than you’d like, it makes you extremely exhausted. Unfortunately, like today.

However, despite not being completely present- it made you realize that this was the first you’ve interacted so…civilly with Beomgyu. Sure, there were a few back-and-forth in the last forty-five minutes but still. You were mainly known as enemies so the fact that he didn’t ditch you to fend for yourself and did some of your work was surprising.

The feeling of perspiration on your fingers immediately wakes you up again. When you open your eyes you find Beomgyu back in front of you. Hands wrapped around a medium iced latte that was covered in a mountain of whipped cream. And funnily enough- chocolate sauce.

You choose not to say anything about how he didn't mess up this time.

“What's this?”

“What does it look like, dipshit? It’s coffee.”

You ignored the comment, “Okay yeah, duh, but why?”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes and pushes the plastic cup to your hands. You don’t pick it up, “Look at you,” he starts, his eyes downcast towards the pool of water collecting on the table, “You can barely keep your eyes open. You work at a coffee shop, I thought you’d be smarter than this.”

You still don't pick it up.

Instead, you narrow your eyes at him.

“You poisoned this shit, didn't you?”

“Excuse me?” he crosses his arms defensively, “Why would I want to poison you?

You shrug, reaching up to toy with the straw. It looks so good. “Why wouldn’t you?”

Beomgyu lets a long exhale and aggressively pulls out the second chair, quickly taking a seat. He wastes no time grabbing on the straw and bending it slightly so it curves at the top and vigorously brings it to you lips. You pursed them and turned your head away, “I don’t wanna.”

“Stop acting like a child for a second and please drink. I am not your babysitter.”

“You probably spat in it.”

“I didn’t- you know what?” He hastily brings the straw to his own lips and takes a brief sip. “Mmmm- Mmm! Yummy! So good and no spit, Mmmm!”

You eye the drink and then his lips for a second indecisively before grabbing onto his wrist and bringing the drink to you. “Give me this, you freak.”

A pleased smile plays on his lips as he watches you almost down the entire thing in one sip. He doesn’t comment on how you still hold onto his wrist when you finished, or when you let out a satisfied sigh while staring at him…warmly?

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why’d you make the drink?”

“Because you needed it…” he trails off but then adds, “And no one else can take the rest of your shift today so you need to wake up and do your job.”

You continue staring at him and Beomgyu can see the wheels turning in your head, then a burst of energy makes you sit up straight, pointing accusing a finger in his face. It wavers in the air as your eyes go to slits, trying to sniff him out. He tries his best to seem unaffected. There's a beat, and then, “You like me, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?” He shouts a little too loudly and defensively for someone who doesn't like you like that. He really doesn’t-

“Helping me with my work, finding my stand-in, covering for me, making me a drink to feel better.” You list off on one hand, the other one still attached to his wrist. He tries to pry your fingers off but you’re stronger than a bull. He’s not going anywhere, “If you don't like me like that then it seems that at least you want to be my friend.”

-does he?

thank you for reading ! (don't forget to like and reblog please !)

#x reader #x y/n #x you #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x fem! reader #coffee shop au #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together fanfic #txt beomgyu x reader #txt beomgyu x you #txt beomgyu x y/n #soothinglee #txt imagines #txt fanfic

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heavyhitterheaux · 27 days

Text

Butterscotch Harlow

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, neelamthadhani, 2forwoyne, taylorrooks, blancahood, and 1,283,052 others

y/ninsta: A little while ago, I surprised smush with a puppy (even though he said no more pets). the two have finally warmed up to each other and all she does is terrorize him lmao

jackharlow: I like how you find my pain humorous smh urbanwyatt: I still can't believe yall literally have fourteen pets now lilnasx: urbanwyatt you mean fifteen, they have druski2funny druski2funny: what the actual fuck do yall be on for me to constantly get dragged like this?!?!? 2forwoyne: yall might as well open up your home and sell tickets because yall live in a damn zoo y/ninsta: all yall can kiss my ass because who is over here every damn week trying to get fed? not too much on my babies. blancahood: you have 3 real babies, pay them some attention y/ninsta: B, I have 5 children. how quickly you forget. jackharlow: who the hell is four and five?!?!? dualipa: jackharlow you and Urban urbanwyatt: NOW WHY AM I ALWAYS IN IT?! y/ninsta: dualipa you a real one for that softtcurse: urbanwyatt because your ass is always doing something smh jackharlow: dualipa and now here you come terrorizing me too smh dualipa: jackharlow I was nice about it but I can be mean. watch that tone. jackharlow: dualipa you better not start with me. I swear yall want me bald by 30. jackandy/naremyparents: I'm convinced that soon y/ninsta will find a way to buy an elephant. mark my words. urbandjack26: jackandy/naremyparents she probably already has one and just keeps it at the actual zoo in Louisville jackharlow: DO NOT GIVE HER ANY IDEAS y/ninsta: 👀👀👀 jackharlow: y/ninsta baby don't you dare y/ninsta: jackharlow BRB

Liked by y/ninsta, druski2funny, claybornharlow, urbanwyatt, maggieharlow, quiiso, jessicakelce, and 1,943,271 others

jackharlow: your shirt says mother so please come and get this puppy. I have not known peace since you bought her 😭

urbanwyatt: jackharlow let's be real for a second. you haven't known peace since you got married to y/ninsta taylorrooks: URBAN! TAKE IT BACK BEFORE SHE SEES IT! 2forwoyne: urbanwyatt not your wanting best friend to kick your ass jackharlow: urbanwyatt you just asking to die tonight aren't you? y/ninsta: I heard I've been summoned and urbanwyatt don't go to sleep tonight urbanwyatt: y/ninsta not my fault you terrorize my best friend! y/ninsta: urbanwyatt is this about me forgetting to make you spaghetti the other day? because right now your ass is acting outta pocket. don't let that mouth of yours get you hair cut off and weed stolen theestallion: Y/N PLEASEEEEEEE blancahood: y/ninsta if you steal it, save me some yungskylark: why when it's taco tuesday, someone in PG acts like they don't have no got damn sense smh shloob_: urbanwyatt my stomach is making whale mating calls. you better fix this shit so she feeds us. urbanwyatt: I SAID WHAT I SAID y/ninsta: urby, you asked for it smh jackharlow: like not too much on my baby now but urb actually claimed me as his best friend for once so I call this day a win y/ninsta: look at my pookie defending me and you were always the first best friend, he just loves me more jackharlow: 🙄🙄🙄

yungskylark: he need to defend my stomach from biting the rest of my insides quiiso: jackharlow IT'S NOT NO WIN WHEN WE'RE HUNGRY, TF? jackharlow: quiiso oh imma eat regardless. idc what happens to yall lmaoooo saweetie: jackharlow just nasty as hell as usual jackharlow: saweetie HAVE YOU SEEN MY WIFE?!?! saweetie: jackharlow for the billionth time, YES! jackharlow: saweetie just making sure lol

Liked by y/ninsta, saweetie, urbanwyatt, theestallion, privategarden, theshaderoom, neelamthadhani, and 3,281,937 others

jackharlow: you see what she does in my time of need? LEAVES ME 😭

But my wife a baddie 😍😍

y/ninsta: jackharlow you are so damn dramatic! I'm only going to be gone for two days! but love you smush. claybornharlow: oh, so the babies have to eat jack's cooking? maggieharlow come save your grandchildren! jackharlow: HEY! THEY'RE FINE! dualipa: I highly doubt that jackharlow: dualipa hop off the nearest cliff y/ninsta: I pumped enough and there's more in the freezer, along with formula and the baby food I made. they're good! jackharlow: umm y/ninsta...... I think I only have enough for a few more hours y/ninsta: WHAT blancahood: oh good lord smh jackharlow: y/ninsta axel is eating like he has never seen food in his entire life maggieharlow: smh jackharlow if you needed me, why didn't you call? jackharlow: maggieharlow I got it handled! claybornharlow: only thing jackharlow has a handle on is.... hmm.... I'm at a loss saweetie: clay, pleaseeeee lmao urbandjack26: chaos in the Harlow household lol neelamthadhani: and jackharlow has the nerve to want more children smh handle those three first! y/ninsta: jackharlow is a good daddy! but his way of doing things concerns me sometimes jackharlow: y/ninsta I know I'm a good daddy. to my triplets and my wife. y/ninsta: jackharlow I'm taking my compliment back smh

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, saweetie, estgee, champagnepapi, zackbia, taylorrooks, and 1,928,036 others

y/ninsta: pleading for my damn help, and once I get home, this is what I see 🙄🙄

jackharlow: and that was the first decent amount of sleep that I got since you left y/ninsta: jackharlow I see little miss kept guard while you slept. I told you she loves you. jackandy/naremyparents: are yall gonna tell us her name now?!?!? jackharlow: jackandy/naremyparents I want to protect her privacy urbanwyatt: this man has officially lost it lmao saweetie: privacy? she literally pees and shits outside for the world to see jackharlow: not too much on my baby now! she still deserves privacy! claybornharlow: jack, she's a dog jackharlow: claybornharlow and? she's MY dog and what I say goes blancahood: that man don't know how to act now that he has his own pet quiiso: y/ninsta please get your husband lmao y/ninsta: quiiso he's a lost cause. I tried to come close to him while she was next to him and long story short, she is very territorial of him. she likes me, but he's her go to person. like sis, I was here first. show your mom some respect lmao urbanwyatt: not y/n finally having to compete for jack's heart y/ninsta: urbanwyatt he lowkey might divorce me to be able to have all of his attention on her jackharlow: I AM NOT THAT BAD neelamthadhani: jackharlow who lied to you? smh y/ninsta: jackharlow just tell everyone her name! jackharlow: y/ninsta no. that's her business and no one else's. jackandy/naremyparents: she probably doesn't even have one jackharlow: YES SHE DOES! If yall can guess it, I'll tell you saweetie: wait, what did yall end up deciding because it was down to two names urbandjack26: probably named her alcatraz y/ninsta: urbandjack26 over my dead body lmao allthingsy/n: hmm..... Louisville related? y/ninsta: allthingsy/n no for once lol jackandurbupdates: toffee y/ninsta: getting warmer jackandy/naremyparents: caramel? y/ninsta: getting closer! jackharlow: yall get on my nerves jackandurb26: BUTTERSCOTCH! BUTTERSCOTCH HARLOW! jackharlow: 😒😒😒😒😒 jackandurb26: well?!?!? jackharlow: I'm logging out y/ninsta: 😭😭😭😭

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow instagram au #instagram au #first lady of pg

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stolenslumber · 2 months

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though the stars walk backward (sjy) (part 1)

Your first encounter with Jake Sim ends with ketchup on your clothes and his burger in his friend’s lap. The second encounter doesn’t go so smoothly, either. He thinks he might have gotten the hang of it by the third time, but as the saying goes: there is no easy way from the earth to the stars.

PAIRING: sim jaeyun x female reader GENRE: college au, one-sided enemies-to-lovers (the e2l part is short-lived lol sry), friends-to-lovers, he fell first but then they both fell harder? lmao, soooooo much mutual pining, fluff, romance, jake as a star soccer player but also loser physics nerd, mc is an assistant manager on the soccer team because of Convoluted Reasons WARNINGS: swearing, familial angst/generational trauma WORD COUNT: ~11.8k a/n: lol (said with no humor whatsoever) i decided to post the first half rn and when i say "first half" what i mean is that i intended for this to come out as a complete fic instead of in parts however school is slamming me so hard and i'm contributing by ruining my own life SOOOO who was to say when this would ever see the light of day if it had to be a full fic..... anyways part 2 is like 30-40% written but i probably won't be able to work on the rest until after my semester ends so maybe may? lol (once again w/ no humor)

“Don’t freak out, but I think the girl you stare at in the library is staring back at you.”

Jake freezes with his burger halfway to his open mouth. “What? Where? And I don’t stare at her in the library—”

Jay nudges his friend’s jaw upwards. “I said don’t freak out.”

“At least he didn’t turn in her direction,” Sunghoon offers. But he says it while looking disdainfully at the ketchup dripping from Jake’s burger onto the dining hall table, so Jake isn’t all that comforted by it.

Instead, he repeats “Where?” through gritted teeth.

“At your four o’clock, but I wouldn’t get too excited about it.” Jay squints. “I’m pretty sure she’s glaring at you, honestly. Okay, seriously do not freak out, but she’s coming over here…”

Jake tries to figure out what to do with himself as you approach with alarming speed— should he fix his hair, or tuck his shirt in? Damn it, he doesn’t even remember if he’s wearing something clean today. Before he can fully comprehend it, you’re standing in front of him, looking as pretty as ever in a silky dress that floats down to your ankles.

Your mouth opens to say something, and there’s a deep furrow between your brows that Jake longs to smooth out, but then his hands clamp down on his burger, and— “Oh shit, dude, I’m so sorry!”

Bright red ketchup decorates the front of your pristine white dress.

Your jaw drops, as does your gaze, fixated on the ugly red splotch spreading over the fabric covering your stomach. Everything you’d been meaning to say to him flies out of your head, replaced by blood rushing in your ears as your anger grows at the foolish oaf in front of you. “This is dry clean only,” you hiss.

Jake drops his burger in Jay’s lap, ignoring his friend’s squawk of indignation. Hurriedly, he wipes his hands on some napkins and tries offering them to you before cowing under your withering glare. “I am so sorry,” he repeats. His arms flail at his sides before he picks up the cardigan lying next to him and hands it to you. “You have a library shift coming up, right? Please feel free to wear this until you can get home and change. I have class until two, but I can take your clothes to the dry cleaners afterwards. I’m really so sorry!”

Your mouth shapes around air a few times as you work out exactly how to respond to him, but then your phone buzzes to remind you of your library shift— it is coming up— and you decide that you’ll deal with this— and him— later. Unhappily, you grab the proffered cardigan. “Two o’clock. Don’t be late.” And then you twist on your heel and depart, leaving Jake to stare sadly at the swish of your hair against your back.

“Are you gonna take my clothes to the dry cleaners, too?” Jay intones dryly from beside him.

Jake groans and sinks back down into the booth, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head repeatedly. “I can’t believe that just happened. I have to walk into traffic now.” Before Jay can say anything else, Jake tacks on, “And yeah, give me your pants.”

“Damn, take me to dinner first. Oh, wait, I guess you did offer me food.” Jay plucks the burger out of his lap and deposits it onto Jake’s plate pointedly.

Sunghoon lets out a whistle between his teeth. “Wow, I’ve never seen anyone fumble so badly. Like, seriously, that should be studied in a lab.”

“I got nervous!” Jake exclaims.

Sunghoon chortles. “Clearly. Cute girl comes over, and you not only call her dude, but you also squirt ketchup all over her.”

Jake kicks him in the shin, hard. “Can you not pile on?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Sunghoon holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Was that the first time you interacted with her?”

Unhelpfully, Jay pipes up. “Unless you count staring at her in the library interacting, I’d say yes. Speaking of, how do you know her schedule, bro? You’re creepier than I thought.”

Jake jabs him with an elbow. “My class got canceled once and I saw her at the library then, okay? Some of us actually have homework, Socrates and Warren Buffet.” He rolls his eyes at Sunghoon (philosophy) and Jay (business) in turn. “And again, I don’t stare!”

A few hours later, Jake stares at the back of your head.

He’s not in his usual spot in the library, which is a round table near the windows on the mezzanine level— straight line of sight to one of the reference desks, but he did not pick that spot on purpose, no matter how much his friends like to joke that he did. He’s been sitting in that spot since the first day of his freshman year; he’d chosen it because he like being able to see out into the quad, and the noise level in that area is perfect for him (not too quiet, which would make him fall asleep, and not too loud, which would just make him want to join in on wherever the fun was). He couldn’t have known that you would show up halfway through last year, get a job as one of the students manning the reference desk, and then occupy the exact spot his eyes tend to rest on when he zones out.

And he really couldn’t have known that you would be so pretty.

It doesn’t help that you’re in practically all of his classes this year, and he’s had the opportunity to talk to you every day for the past two weeks if he wanted to. He’s not the most shameless person in the world (Sunghoon), but he’s also not scared of his own reflection (Heeseung), so why couldn’t he have just introduced himself like a normal person on the first day of classes and avoided this whole ketchup fiasco?

Someone comes up to the desk to ask a question, and your head tilts toward them as the afternoon sunlight frames your face just so; Jake gulps and thinks, Oh yeah, that’s why. So pretty. And dizzyingly smart, if the way he sees your pencil fly over quizzes is anything to go by.

As if sensing his eyes on you, you twist around fully to catch him staring. Jake blinks deer-in-headlights eyes at you; if this was a cartoon, there would be a ?! above his head.

Your eyes narrow at him and you jerk your head in your own direction. Get over here.

Jake gulps and straightens up before shuffling over to you. He kind of feels like he’s walking to the gallows, but on a flower-lined path, because his cardigan on you softens you around the edges, and you look right at home in it.

“Heeeeeeey.” He raises a hand and waves at you, though he’s right in front of you. He winces before you can even raise a skeptical eyebrow at him, but then you do, so he grimaces. “Sorry, that was weird. Uh, hi.”

You nod curtly at him. “Hi. I’m done in two minutes. Thanks for being on time.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he mumbles to the floor. Luckily, you don’t catch it because you’re packing away the problem set you were doing in between answering student questions, which he chances a glance at because hey, he’d been having trouble with page 157.

Of course, you catch that. “What are you, twelve? Do your own work.”

“Wait, what? Hold on a second, I’m not trying to cheat off of you— hey, wait up!” He scrambles to catch up with you where you’re already halfway down the stairs. Panicked, he speeds past you and plants himself in your path, greeted by your look of supreme irritation for the second time that day. “I wasn’t trying to cheat off of you,” he says, more firmly this time. “I was just gonna ask you how you did with page 157, because I was having some trouble with it earlier.”

You scoff and slide to the left to go around him, only to be met by him mirroring you. “Are you serious right now? Get out of my way.”

“We’re going to the same place!”

“Yeah, and now I’ve remembered that I can pay for my own dry cleaning. Move.” You go right, and he follows.

“I’m still coming— I gotta take Jay’s pants there. I dropped my burger in his lap earlier when, well, you know.”

You go left again, and he follows once more. “Okay, for real? Let me go, asshole.”

Jake drops his backpack off his shoulders and hoists it onto his knee, rummaging around in it while still blocking your path. You think he’s officially lost it, but you’re also never one to miss an opportunity, so you feint to the right and then go left, but he’s faster and blocks you again with his head halfway buried in his backpack. Damn it, he’s good. You don’t realize you’ve said that out loud until he looks up at you and smiles sheepishly. “Soccer team,” he explains. Oh— that reminds you why you were approaching him at the dining hall in the first place, and real anger resurfaces in your blood.

“Like I care,” you snap. You’re about to just shove him down the stairs and call it an easy day when you’re met with a crumpled piece of graph paper waved in front of your face. “What the hell is this?”

“Next week’s problem set! See, look, I finished everything except the problems on page 157, and I did get started, but I just wanted to check if I was on the right path, okay? I promise, I wasn’t trying to cheat off of you.” He frowns. “These aren’t even graded for quality. It’s just a submission for completion.”

Your eyebrows climb up your forehead. Though his handwriting is shit, you can see that he’s telling the truth. The fact that he’s doing the problem set for next week probably should have tipped you off in and of itself, but what surprises you is the simple elegance with which his calculations come out. “Hey, how’d you do that on number 89 on page 151—” You cut yourself off. “Never mind. Fine, I believe you. Can you move now? We’re blocking the entire stairway.”

Jake seems to finally notice the build-up of annoyed students in front of and behind you both. “Right, oops.” He zips up his backpack and slings it over one shoulder before descending the stairs with quick steps. He turns around and tilts his head quizzically at you when you don’t follow.

Truthfully, you’re trying to decide if you should make a break for it and go up the stairs so you can take a different set of stairs down, but then you realize how childish that sounds. So, it’s with less dignity than you’d like that you meet him at the bottom of the staircase. But you don’t stop where he’s standing; instead, you breeze past him so smoothly that he finds himself staring at the back of your head for a few seconds before springing into motion after you.

“Soooooo… dry cleaner’s?” He offers you a tentative smile once he’s fallen into step with you.

You seem to have made your mind up about something, because you turn to him with a dazzling smile that knocks the breath right out of his lungs. “Lead the way.”

“O-Okay.” He’s taken aback by your sudden about-face, but he’s not going to question it.

He tells you that he’s happy to drive there, and you’re perfectly agreeable about it. You even start talking about the problem set that had been the source of such strife just minutes earlier. At the dry cleaner, you give him the biggest surprise yet when you ask for his number. Obviously, he gives it to you, and he has to pretend like he isn’t perturbed by the cryptic, almost manic look in your eyes when you promise that you’ll be in touch.

But then you’re gone without so much as a goodbye, and it’s only when he gets back to his place that he realizes he doesn’t even know how you got home, and he can’t text you because he doesn’t have your number.

Still. A win is a win.

ball sports (derogatory) (heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon)

jake: this has been the strangest and possibly greatest day of my life

sunghoon: ur preaching to the choir ketchup boy

sunghoon: yizhuo told me i was hotter with blonde hair

sunghoon: so like hell yeah she thinks im hot but hell no now i have to dye my hair back

jake: ????? did i ask

jake: i’m talking about MY day

jay: she actually did not say you were hotter with blonde hair. in fact none of those words came out of her mouth

jay: you asked if she liked your new hair and she said no

sunghoon: hop off my dick tf????

heeseung: so what happened jake

sunghoon: oh i can tell u this it’s old news

sunghoon: jake fumbled his first interaction w/ the girl he stares at in the library

jake: BUT she asked for my number and said she’d be in touch!!!!

sunghoon: right so u can pay for her dry cleaning bill

jake: OR maybe she wants to be friends

jake: to lovers<3

jay: idk she kinda looked like she wanted to take you out when she was coming over to us at lunch today

jake: take me out… oh my god LIKE ON A DATE?????

jay: no like

jay: lethally

women’s rights and wrongs (you, minjeong, aeri, somi)

you: so you know how i was gonna confront jake today

yizhuo: yeah i heard that went poorly

yizhuo: sunghoon said something about ketchup????

you: nvm all that. i have a Better Plan. i’m gonna ruin his life

minjeong: cool

somi: noooooo he’s hot

you: HE RUINED MY BROTHER’S LIFE

somi: girl u have to let that go

somi: ur brother is 10 and made it to the B team for club soccer

somi: i think he’ll be fine

you: BUT HE SHOULD’VE BEEN IN THE A TEAM. I SAW JAKE’S BEADY EYES SINGLING HIM OUT UNFAIRLY

somi: he actually has like insane puppy dog eyes

you: anyways i’m going to systematically but subtly make his life more and more difficult as soon as i start assistant managing his soccer team on monday. but he will never know it’s me bc i’m going to be so nice and normal to his face BUT ACTUALLY i’m gonna make him my bitch

yizhuo: “nice and normal to his face” u have the worst poker face i’ve ever seen

minjeong: technically speaking if ur an assistant manager aren’t u THEIR bitch

For reasons you cannot fathom, the men’s varsity soccer team has practice on Monday mornings, at the crack of dawn. You’re beginning to regret giving up your reasonably timed library shifts where you basically got paid to sit there and do your homework and check out computer chargers to students every now and then, but these are the things you do when you’re trying to be a good sister.

Autumn has arrived abruptly— almost overnight, if the smattering of ambers and ochres falling from the trees lining the soccer field is anything to go by. You realize you’re dressed entirely inappropriately for the weather when your teeth are chattering and your eyes are watering from the sting of the cold. The dress you’d picked out last night for today seems laughable now.

“What are you doing here?” Jake’s voice, so unexpectedly close, makes you jolt and flail around a bit before turning to meet his confused expression— head tilted, eyes wide, and damn it, Somi’s right, he does have insane puppy dog eyes.

You gesture vaguely at the field. “I’m one of the new assistant managers. Surprise! Told you I’d be in touch.”

“Speaking of— did you get home alright the other day?”

“Yeah, of course, I just walked.”

He wants to be concerned about that answer— the closest student accommodations are at least a thirty minute walk away from the dry cleaner’s— but then he sees you hop from one foot to the other while rubbing your arms. You look so out of place with your heeled mary janes sinking into the dew-damp field with every hop, but it’s so cute that he has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from grinning too widely. In a move that now feels familiar, he digs around in his bag before pulling out a spare sweatshirt and handing it to you.

Appreciation for his kindness and irritation at his kindness play tug-of-war inside of you for all of two seconds before a particularly brisk gust of wind hits you, and then you’re yanking the sweatshirt over your head and breathing in clean soap and something else unfairly cozy. “Thanks,” you mumble.

“Sure thing. Here, take this, too.” Jake digs around in his bag some more and emerges triumphant with a thermos. He twists the cap off and pours some liquid into the cap before offering it to you.

It smells like… “Hot chocolate?”

“With two espresso shots, because we have intro to Python right after practice today.”

You grimace in unison at that reminder, and you’re kind of glad that that’s the last expression on your face before you sip at the drink, because it’s perfect, and you have to refrain from letting your eyes roll to the back of your head. So he’s practical, makes delicious hot drinks, and, because you’re not immune to those big brown eyes, attractive. It’s a pity he was such a jerk to your brother, because otherwise you’d be swooning.

But he must have seen something change in your face, because he lets out a giggle— oh no, it’s so cute— and hands you the entire thermos. “I think you need it more than me,” he explains.

You try to remind yourself of your brother’s disappointment after club soccer try-outs last week, which you had seen from your totally not-creepy position, brooding inside your stepdad’s car over how to best connect with this 10-year-old kid who was just old enough to recognize that girls had cooties and not old enough to share any genuine interests with you. It was less creepy because you were there to pick your brother up, but you feel like you’re not any closer to him than a stranger (in fairness, you hadn’t known that he existed before last year). You’ve tried, in fits and starts, to get to know MJ better, to actually form some sort of sibling bond with him, but most of the time, you’re his glorified chauffeur. He tries, too, and your heart goes all fuzzy when you notice it, but there’s only so far that a 10-year-old whose greatest joys in life are cookies ‘n cream ice cream (understandable), and soccer (more confounding) can get before he decides that his Nintendo is more readily enjoyable.

The look on MJ’s face after try-outs last week had spurred you to apply for the assistant manager position. He was so sad about the B team, and you did the whole comforting, cajoling song-and-dance as best as you could, but he had just snapped at you that you didn’t get it, that you couldn’t get it. And then he had burst into frustrated tears, and you vowed at that moment to learn everything you could about soccer, as well as to give Jake Sim a piece of your mind.

Jake Sim, whom you had only known as the guy that finished the first lab faster than anyone else in your extrasolar research methods class, until you saw him blowing a whistle on the sidelines of MJ’s soccer try-outs, looking like he had some sort of authority as he directed a group of kids, including MJ, in a series of drills. Later, you found out from Minjeong that Jake is a star player on your school’s soccer team, so he presumably has some basis for helping out with the local club soccer team, but you hadn’t been all that interested in finding out more. You’d seen enough from the way he took MJ aside after the teams had been announced, and MJ’s subsequent tears in the car, and you knew vengeance would be yours.

Unfortunately, vengeance is currently offering you hot chocolate with two espresso shots, and he is distressingly earnest when he wraps your hands around the thermos and points you in the direction of the other assistant managers who are supposed to onboard you. So, you bid Jake a stiff goodbye as you try to ignore the warmth spreading from the tip of your nose down into your throat. It’s definitely the hot chocolate, but you’re annoyed at even the possibility that it could be connected to Jake.

women’s rights and wrongs

yizhuo: so how’s world domination (ruining jake’s life) going?

you: hard to say. he gave me a sweatshirt and hot chocolate bc i’m wearing a stupid ass outfit and it’s cold as hell out here

minjeong: he said that?!

you: no I’M saying that

you: i need to change my entire wardrobe so i’m never caught unawares like this ever again. i let my guard down and this is what happens.

somi: a guy is nice to u? yeah god forbid

you: HE IS BESMIRCHING MY HONOR (AVENGING MJ)

minjeong: jeez you get so victorian when you’re distressed

somi: sorry are we ignoring the fact that he gave her a sweatshirt and hot chocolate????

minjeong: omfg YEAH that’s like. bf behavior

you: oh fuck there’s some sort of commotion going on out there in the field

you: omg they’re bringing a STRETCHER out

you: i gotta go guys ttyl xoxo etc.

yizhuo: notice how she never responded to the bf behavior allegations

Jung Sungchan, team captain, is down and out for the count after being wheeled out of practice on a stretcher with a torn ACL. This is reasonably concerning to everyone on the team, but none more so than to Jake, who finds himself at the receiving end of a Serious Talk about leadership qualities and such from his coach that ends with, “... and that’s why we want you to fill in for Sungchan while he’s recovering.”

“Huh?” Jake tilts his head at his coach. He must have misheard; there’s no way they want him to fill in for Sungchan.

“The seniors love you, the underclassmen look up to you, your peers respect you, and all the coaches agree. Sungchan will come back as soon as he’s able, but he won’t be able to actually play this season, so you’ll have to keep up the leadership on the field and off. We’re confident in your abilities. Good man.” His coach claps him on the shoulder, and that’s the end of it.

Jake is still staring dumbly in his coach’s departing direction when you approach him with his cardigan, sweatshirt, and thermos.

You had planned to just give him his stuff and leave, but curiosity gets the better of you after having witnessed the spectacle out on the field. “Everything alright? Who got carried out on that stretcher?”

Still a bit shell-shocked, Jake speaks without thinking: “Worried it was me?”

You look at him like he’s an alien species. “It clearly wasn’t, because whoever it was is much taller than you.”

Jake frowns up at you. “Okay, no need to go for the height. That was my captain, who’s gonna be out for the rest of the season, so now Coach wants me to fill in for him… I don’t know what he’s thinking. I mean, I get that seniority isn’t everything, but this feels kinda unfair to any of the seniors who could’ve stepped in for Sungchan.”

“How convenient to have everything handed to you on a silver platter,” you mutter. It’s an entirely unjustified thing to say— you barely know Jake or anything about his background, but then MJ’s tear-stained face flashes across your mind, and you don’t feel so bad about it.

Genuine hurt and a hint of actual anger sparks in Jake’s eyes. “Okay, what’s your problem? I get that I didn’t make the best of first impressions the other day, but I apologized and tried to make up for it— you can just text me the bill from the dry cleaner’s, by the way— and I don’t know what else I’ve done to upset you, but I’m sorry for whatever that is, too. Are we good, or is there something else you’ve got against me?” His last question comes out almost aggressively as he stands up, bringing him not quite chest-to-chest with you, but close enough that you notice the perfectly defined cupid’s bow of his lips, and then you’re disgusted with yourself. College hormones have made you fallible; it shouldn’t sway you that he’s cute (and kind, and smart, and considerate, your brain reminds you unhelpfully).

“We’re good,” you snap. “Here’s your stuff.” You shove the things he gave you into his arms before whipping around sharply to walk (stomp) away, pointedly ignoring his surprised yelp when your hair hits him in the face. Childishly, you think that it serves him right.

Sadly, your conscience comes back to haunt you approximately 18 hours later, at which point you’re pulling out ingredients and clanging whisks against bowls.

Minjeong sticks her head into the kitchen to ask, “What are you doing?”

You freeze in your movements, letting a particularly clumpy spot of brownie batter fall from your raised spatula back into the mixing bowl. “Cleaning,” you lie baldly. One unimpressed eyebrow raise from her gets you to clear your throat and put down your spatula. “Making brownies,” you amend.

“At midnight?”

“Yeah, I just had… a craving.”

Minjeong seems to consider pushing you on this, but the smell of the brownie batter wins her over. “Awesome, can I have some?” She moves to dip her finger into the batter.

“No!” You shriek, covering the bowl with your arms crossed on top of each other in an X.

Minjeong pulls her hand back and looks at you with alarm. “Why? What’s wrong?”

You sigh and retreat from the bowl. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Um, I’m making brownies… for Jake—”

“For who now?”

“—’s soccer team,” you finish, turning to glare at Somi and her untimely entrance.

She only waves slyly at you from where she’s leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. “Y’know, it’s not really his soccer team. It’s the school’s soccer team, or maybe Jung Sungchan’s, but sure, let’s call it Jake’s, too.” She tsks. “Pretty privilege.” You give her a pointed up-and-down, to which she just shrugs.

Minjeong seizes you by the shoulders and peers aggressively into your eyes, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Why are you making guilt brownies for Jake Sim?”

“They’re not guilt brownies!” You splutter, waving your hands in front of her face as if that will stave off the gleam of interrogatory insanity in her eyes.

Drawn by her nose and her ears, Yizhuo chooses that point to wander into the kitchen, as well. “Who are the guilt brownies for?”

You groan and drop your face into your hands. Somi and Minjeong exclaim “Jake Sim!” in gleeful unison before dissolving into giggles.

Yizhuo decides to show you mercy, bless her heart, because all she does is come over to inspect the brownie batter and hum noncommittally. Of course, she ruins it when she spots what’s on the stove and gasps dramatically, “Guys, she made ganache! These are, like, mega guilt brownies!”

Back when the four of you first started living together last year, you were a mid-year transfer student whose sudden appearance had forced Somi, Minjeong, and Yizhuo’s two-room triple to turn into a two-room quad, and your guilt about disrupting their living arrangements had led you to bake them brownies from scratch— cocoa powder, chopped chocolate, browned butter, espresso, and everything. The girls had clamored for the recipe (your mother’s). Since then, you have happily moved out of the dorms and into a subsidized student apartment, but you each continue to make variations of the brownies for each other as peace offerings after a spat, or celebrations, or gestures of comfort.

And now, as an apology for being mean to Jake Sim, which is how you summarize it to your still-giggling roommates.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll like them,” Yizhuo offers, with a poorly-concealed smirk.

“They’re for the team,” you repeat.

“Riiiiiight, and is the team with us in the room right now?” Somi wiggles her eyebrows at you, then her shoulders, then her entire body, and it’s so absurd that you tear up from laughing too hard. You had moved across the country for your brother, and you hadn’t expected anything else would come out of it, but now you have the best of friends, who hold a piece of your heart, and you, theirs. The thought makes you unexpectedly emotional, so much so that you begin making another batch of brownies.

“These are just I’m really glad we’re friends brownies,” you sniffle.

Somi exchanges a look with Minjeong and Ningning, and then they’re all descending upon you in a hug; one big mess of limbs and love. It’s absolutely wonderful.

The next day, you carry multiple containers of brownies around with you all day, looking for a chance to offload them (and your guilty conscience) onto Jake. It shouldn’t be this hard— you share four out of five classes with him this semester, and you’re supposed to be at two soccer practices a week in rotation with the other assistant managers, as well as every other game. But everywhere you turn, Jake is either slipping out of class before you can get to him, or he arrives just before the professor starts lecturing and you’re already seated with your pencil poised over paper.

You’re not on rotation for practice today, so you spend a rather agitated handful of hours doing schoolwork after classes, until you get a last-minute text from your stepdad asking if you can pick MJ up.

Of course, you get the shock of your life when you get to the address your stepdad sent you and see Jake Sim playing soccer with your brother at some local park. You’re not alone in your surprise; Jake makes a full stop upon catching sight of you and gets a soccer ball to the head for it, knocking him fully down to the ground. Thankfully, he pops back up immediately, just in time to catch you speeding past him to fuss over MJ.

“What on earth are you doing here alone?!” You exclaim to your brother, looking around as if the rest of his soccer team will materialize out of thin air. “Did that bad man lure you out here?”

Jake’s eyes bulge out of his head as he looks around at the zero other people on the field before pointing to himself and mouthing Me? at you.

MJ just shrugs and points at Jake. “Practicing with Jake hyung.”

“Jake hyung?” You squint at the offender in question.

“Yeah, he’s been helping me get ready for next season’s tryouts.” MJ scuffs the toe of his shoe against the grass, clearly embarrassed by your fretting.

“Hey, Minjae, is this your… sister?” Jake asks tentatively. The question itself is innocent enough, but irritation and jealousy set your blood buzzing; MJ rarely lets you call him Minjae. He claims MJ is cooler, and he doesn’t let your mother call him Minjae, either, but your stepdad calls him Minjae freely and with an abundance of returned affection.

“Yep.” MJ pops the p as he looks between the two of you, now sensing that whatever is going on here is larger than him. “Uh, can I go to the bathroom?”

“Sure.” You and Jake respond in unison, which makes you glare and him blush.

“Okay, cool. See ya.” MJ races off to the porta-potties with unusual enthusiasm, but you suppose he’d rather be there than here to witness the breakdown of normal social interaction between you and Jake.

The instant MJ is out of earshot, you whirl on Jake and demand, “How do you know my brother?”

Instinctually, he puts his hands up in surrender. “He looked like he was pretty down on himself after club try-outs last week, so I talked to him and offered to run drills with him, like, once a week, okay? I’m not some…. bad man!”

“Oh.” You deflate in front of his eyes as you realize the depths of your misunderstanding. “Well… okay.”

He eyes you apprehensively. “We’re good?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re… good.” The words remind you of the acerbic encounter you had with him the day before, which reminds you of the guilt brownies, which reminds you of the guilt. Like everything else in your life, you decide to get over this with clinical efficiency. “Listen, I owe you an apology. Probably several. I was picking up MJ from try-outs last week, and I saw him with you, and then he was crying in the car, so I jumped to conclusions about you and your role in the try-outs. That’s why I came over to you at lunch the other day, to tell you off.” You take a deep breath and barrel on, mindful of your brother’s likely imminent return. “I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry, Jake.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay, really, don’t worry about it.” Jake rubs the back of his neck and looks anywhere but at you. He’s never seen you like this before— contrite, sincere, and concentrating so fully on him that he wants to either hide his face from you or do something even stupider, like ask you out. Instead, what comes out of his mouth is, “I think the dry cleaning is ready, if you want to go pick it up right now. With me. Or without me, I guess. I can just, like, be there. And you’ll be there, too. But we’ll be there separately. Wow, should I stop talking?”

That prompts laughter from you, and his breath catches in his throat at the wonder of watching delight unfold across your face. In that moment, sunlight emerges from behind a patchwork of clouds, but it’s your laughter that warms him from head to toe.

“Let me just drop MJ off at home, and then I’ll come with you to the dry cleaner. Together, not separately.” Your eyes twinkle in residual amusement at him, and he lets himself break out into a goofy grin.

MJ makes his presence known by loudly asking why the two of you are just standing there smiling at each other, and if Jake can walk home with you all. Jake manufactures a coughing fit and you ignore MJ’s first question, but you say yes to the second one.

MJ cheers and starts tugging Jake along in the direction of your mother and stepdad’s house. You trail behind them in bemused amusement; they talk about soccer the whole time, and Jake is playful and patient but never condescending with the boy that clearly idolizes him. Watching Jake interact with your brother is bittersweet— it’s so easy between them, in a way that you’ve never experienced yourself. By the time you reach the house, MJ has extracted a promise from you both that he can attend Jake’s next home game.

At the door, MJ fist-bumps Jake and is magnanimous enough to allow you to kiss his cheek goodbye. You send him off with a, “Be kind!” and he hollers back, “I know!”

And then it’s just you and Jake, who’s looking at you with a newfound curiosity that makes you nervous. “What?” You snap, and then you instantly backtrack. “Sorry, I, uh, I’m still a little wound up from—” thinking you were a jerk— “… earlier.”

“All good.” Jake tips his head towards the sidewalk, and you realize you’re still on the doorstep of MJ’s house. You follow Jake onto the sidewalk, where he asks, “Do you always tell him to be kind?”

It’s the last thing you expected him to ask. “Um, yeah. Not that he’s a mean kid or anything, but my mother always told me to be good, and I’ve heard her say the same thing to him, so I just… want him to hear something different.” Because be good just means be quiet and perform well, and you already go to therapy every other week for that.

Jake beams at you. “That’s awesome. You’re a great sister.”

He’s saying all the things that would be right for someone else, but for you, they’re all the wrong things. Still, there’s no way he could know that, and it’s not his fault, so you try to tone down your wince. “Thanks, but I barely know how to talk to MJ. He’s old enough to find it lame to just hang out with his sister, and we don’t have a lot in common. That’s why I applied to be an assistant manager, actually— I’m trying to learn more about soccer.”

“Sounds like best-sibling-of-the-year behavior to me. Seriously, I have an older brother— he’s the one who introduced me to soccer— and we have a great relationship, but he never joined the orchestra for me, or anything like that.” Jake nudges your shoulder with his. “And hey, if you want to learn more about soccer, you can ask me anything, anytime.”

He turns eyes so kind and earnest on you that your thought process halts and then restarts like a broken record. You have to grab onto the closest coherent thought before you stare at him for too long. “You were in the orchestra?”

Jake wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, but I was pretty average with a violin. Dumb jock, you know?” He smiles at you to let you know he’s joking.

Thankfully, you smile right back. “Soooo true. Remind me how long the first extrasolar research methods lab took you?”

He blushes and waves you off. “Ah, well, that’s the kind of stuff I want to do in the future, so I better get good at it, right?” He lowers his voice, even though there’s no one around who could possibly overhear his nerdy confession. “Honestly, I cried a little when the first images from the James Webb telescope came out.”

In equally hushed tones, you respond, “Me, too.”

Jake grins. “Aerospace engineering, right? Your brother did say that his sister loves machines and stars.”

The fact that MJ talked about you at all is enough to have you floating on air. “Yeah, that’s me. And hey, this is us.” You point to the sign for the dry cleaner.

“Oh. We got here fast.” Jake tries— and likely fails— not to sound too disappointed. But you’ve already gone ahead into the store, so he leaves behind his foolish desires (walking back to where you’d dropped your brother off and then here again, if only to spend more time with you) at the door.

In the store, Jake gives Jay’s pants a perfunctory once-over to check that they’re fine, but his attention is mainly focused on your dress— it comes back perfectly clear of any ketchup stains, to which he lets out a loud, relieved sigh.

You eye him strangely for that reaction. “I know I was a bit high-strung about it at the time, but it wouldn’t have been the end of the world if my dress was ruined. I wouldn’t, like, come after you with a pitchfork.”

He pauses for a second to let that image play out in his mind. “Y’know, I didn’t think you would, but now that you’ve brought up the possibility…” He grins when you laugh and shove lightly at his shoulder. “But seriously, it would have been a shame. You looked really nice in that dress.” The words tumble thoughtlessly out of his mouth, but he can’t bring himself to regret it when he sees your mouth part in surprise before flattening into a tiny, pleased smile.

“I would hope so. I have excellent taste,” you say, trying to sound haughty and ending up somewhere near flustered. There’s heat in your cheeks; you’re stuck between wanting to wipe that boyish smirk off of his face and wanting to frame the way it looks.

“So… are you headed back to your house?” Jake tries out what he wants to say next in his head, first: And would you mind if I walked you there?

“Oh, yeah. It’s getting kind of late. I think your friend— Sunghoon? Yizhuo invited him over for dinner tonight, actually, if you… also want to come.” You cringe at how awkward that sounded. “I mean, not that it’s going to be a big thing, or anything. Minjeong and Somi are making an insane amount of mac ‘n cheese, because there was a really good sale at the grocery store, so we’re just trying to offload it, really. There’s gonna be a bunch of people there.”

Jake’s head tilts in confusion. “Your friends live with your family?”

“What? No, we’re in an apartment on Maplewood. MJ lives with his parents, but I don’t live there.” You grimace. “I go there for family dinner once a week, so that’s where I went after we came to the dry cleaner for the first time. But that’s only on Wednesdays, thank god.”

Jake hums noncommittally. There’s more he’d like to ask, to know, to understand, but then his stomach growls, and he laughs sheepishly. “I’ll gladly take you up on the mac ‘n cheese. I need some fodder to tease Sunghoon with, anyways. Seeing him with Yizhuo always does it.”

“The will-they-won’t-they childhood-menaces-to-who-knows show?”

“Exactly. So, tell me about aerospace engineering…”

The walk to your apartment is long by any measurement, but it passes by quickly. Jake asks you genuine questions about propulsion systems and your friends, and you learn that he loves superhero movies, his family dog, and poetry, of all things. He’s endearingly bashful about the last one.

“Physics is pretty dry at the undergraduate level, even when it’s astrophysics. But the way that poets talk about the stars… It takes my breath away, a little bit. Reminds me that it’s a marvel to just look heavenward, I guess.” He rubs the tip of his reddening nose. “Silly, right?”

“Not at all.” Romantic, actually, is what you want to tell him. Romantic, because he talks about space like it’s a reverential thing, like a telescope can be a paintbrush through the night sky, like constellations are more than just sets of stars connected by the human eye. But you’ve reached your apartment, so all you say is, “Hold on, let me get my keys.”

“Oh, hey, I can help you with that—”

“No, it’s okay, I got it—”

In the fumble of dry cleaning, backpacks, sports duffels, and totes between you two, somehow every single container of brownies tumbles out of your bag. Jake’s eyes catch on the hasty letters you’d scrawled on duct tape on the lids of each container last night to distinguish between the brownies you ended up making for your roommates: FOR JS & TEAM. His eyebrows shoot up as your face burns; he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but…

“There was also a sale on baking supplies at the grocery store,” you lie. Then, you shake your head. “Okay, no, that’s not true. I made these last night and I meant to give them to you today but I never got you at the right moment during classes, and then there was the whole thing with MJ, so I almost forgot… Anyways. You said you were worried about the seniors on the team being upset about you for stepping in as interim captain, and I’m sure they’re not so easily swayed by just baked goods, but I thought maybe you could give these to them, as a way to, like, soften the beaches, or something. It’s not much, but I promise, they’re really good.”

Jake’s jaw drops. “You made these… for me? Even when you hated me?”

“I made them for you to give to the team,” you insist. “But, yeah… I did.” You frown at the ground. “Look, I really am sorry about the way I treated you before. I wasn’t going to, like, trauma-dump on you, but I guess I will, now, because I want you to know that I never hated you.” You take a deep breath. “MJ’s mom is my mother, too, but she left my dad and I when I was in elementary school. I didn’t hear from her for a decade, until last year, when she reached out and told me I had a brother on the other side of the country, and she had been pregnant with him when she left my dad and I.”

You chance a glance at Jake. “Please don’t look at me with pity. My dad’s a great guy, and so is my step-dad. I moved out here to be closer to MJ, and you can see how that’s going, but I love him purely, without complication. It’s just my mother who’s… complicated. Anyways, I just got MJ, so I’m a bit overprotective over him, and I was quick to paint you as the bad guy, but that’s no excuse. These are I’m-sorry-for-jumping-to-conclusions brownies. And bribe-your-team brownies.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not looking at you with pity.” It’s awe, he thinks. Awe for your heart, loyal to the point of changing schools and moving across the country for a brother you had never met. Awe for your diligence in making enough brownies to feed an entire team. And most of all, awe at your goodness, for doing all of this because you knew you were in the wrong.

“Can you look at her somewhere where you’re not blocking the doorway?” Sunghoon’s voice pierces through the strange moment. You and Jake move into action all at once, collecting containers of brownies while juggling your other things.

“Thanks for the help, dude.” Jake punches Sunghoon’s shoulder sarcastically.

Sunghoon shrugs and holds up the shopping bags in his hands. “Precious goods, my man.”

Jake peers into one of the bags. “Tiramisu?”

“Yeah, Yizhuo was on my ass about contributing to dinner.” Sunghoon rolls his eyes fondly. “She also told me to marshall the troops for the mac ‘n cheese, so Heeseung and Jay are a couple minutes behind me. Seriously, did you guys buy out the entire grocery store, or something?”

You laugh as you unlock the door and usher them inside. “Or something.” You had heard that the sale really was quite good, but truthfully, you suspect there’s more to it than that. Based on the way Somi exaggeratedly darts her eyes between you and Jake, you think you’re probably right. You get the sense that even if you hadn’t invited him for dinner, he would have shown up with Sunghoon’s contingent anyways.

“Ladies, you are so not slick,” you mutter to your friends when it’s just the four of you in the kitchen.

Minjeong smiles beatifically at you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is just an impromptu but no less lovely dinner party for our friends… oh, there’s the door! I’ll get it.”

In a sense, you suppose she’s right. It’s not like Jake is the only other person at this semi-spontaneous gathering; eventually, there are almost 20 people eating mac ‘n cheese on various surfaces in your apartment. It’s an eclectic bunch— pretty much anyone you or your friends knew who was available to come eat mac ‘n cheese. But Minjeong insists that you and Jake share an armchair in the living room because there’s nowhere else to eat, even though there is clearly an open chair next to Heeseung and a free spot on the rug next to some kid from your programming class last year.

“This is really good!” Jake enthuses. He says it while shoveling food into his mouth, so it sounds more like Vif iv weally good! He’s also eating with his non-dominant hand to keep from spilling anything on you where you’re pressed up against each other in the armchair, though that turns out to be fairly counterproductive because he keeps missing his mouth with the fork.

Your head tips back in a fit of giggles. “You look ridiculous,” you inform him. He just grins at you with chipmunk cheeks stuffed with tiramisu. “Here, let me.” You take the fork from his hand and feed him a mouthful; it’s much more efficient this way, you reason to yourself.

He’s so startled by this that he starts choking on the dusting of cocoa powder atop the dessert. You end up thumping him on the back until his airway is clear again, and he hopes you chalk up the redness of his face to the choking.

“Um, you have a little…” You motion to a spot of cocoa powder at the corner of his mouth. He wipes at entirely the wrong corner, and you’d think he was doing this on purpose, except he starts choking again when you use your thumb to wipe the powder away.

He gets over it much more quickly this time, though. Once he’s finally back to normal, he wills himself to summon all— or any— of the charm he has ever possessed to turn warm eyes on you. “Thanks for inviting me here tonight,” he says. There’s a slight rasp to his voice that is probably due to all the choking, but he hopes you think it’s sexy, or something.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. Thanks for helping us eat the food, and for, uh, coaching MJ, I guess?” Your voice is approaching a squeak, which makes you want to die, a little bit. He’s just looking at you so sincerely.

His gaze holds yours. “Easy day. And hey, you’re totally welcome to come join us whenever you want. I was just gonna keep meeting him at that park, so you know where to find us.”

“Thank you,” you repeat, quieter this time. “My mother… she’s hard on him. Always be good, be the best, you know? So he was pretty torn up about not making the A team.”

“I kinda sensed that he was tense during try-outs. Not that it’s bad to try hard, or to want to be on a certain team, but at his age, he could benefit from just… having fun, I think. If you don’t mind me saying that.”

You nod. “Believe me, I agree. MJ’s way too serious for his own good.”

“Some may say he gets it from you,” Jake teases lightly.

“Some may say that’s not how genetics work, but we’ll leave that to the pre-meds.” You tip your head toward Yizhuo, who is arguing about some memory from hers and Sunghoon’s childhood with him. Your heart glows with contentment as you look around the room; all of your favorite people (plus or minus miscellaneous others) gathered in one place on a random Monday night.

Jake carves out a piece of his tiramisu and holds it up to you like a toast. “To the pre-meds. And old friends, and new ones.”

“And new ones,” you echo.

As it turns out, the soccer team is exactly as easily swayed as a container of brownies.

You’re at practice when it winds down and Jake holds up your stack of containers like Simba in that one scene in The Lion King. “A gift from the lady,” he intones grandly to the team gathered in front of him. You nudge him with your hip. “Okay, and me, I guess, but seriously, she did all the work. Listen, guys, I’m not gonna lie— it’s gonna be rough without Sungchan. But I believe in us, and I believe in these brownies!”

“Brownies!” The team roars back. Said brownies are demolished in a matter of minutes, and then every player makes it a point to sing your praises and give Jake a hug or a fist-bump on their way out.

You’re still gaping by the time it’s just you and Jake left on the field. “That’s all it took?”

Jake turns to you with his arms crossed smugly over his chest. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. The way to the heart is through the stomach, and all that.”

“Otherwise known as: men are so easy.” You bemoan all the fancy ingredients and time you put into those brownies; you’re sure the team would have been just as happy with boxed Betty Crocker.

“Yeah, but these taste like care and love,” he insists.

“Alright, buddy, I wouldn’t go that far. And how would you know? You haven’t even tried one yet.”

“Oh my god. You’re right.” Jake looks aghast. “Are there any left?!”

You make a show of looking around at all the empty containers around you. Jake’s face falls so comically and he pouts so fervently that you can’t keep up the ruse for long. Laughing, you pull out one last ziplock bag of brownies from behind your back and present it to him. “Saved one just in case.”

He plucks the bag out of your hands with exaggerated delicacy, which vanishes when he bites into the brownie and lets out an honest to god moan. Heat floods your face immediately.

His eyes are closed when he tells you, quite seriously, that you are a goddess amongst mortals. “Did you drug this? I feel like I’ve ascended to a new plane of existence.” He moans, again, eyes still closed.

“Hello, stop making that sound, you weirdo,” you hiss.

He cracks one eye open to wink at you. “Where is your mind? Get out of the gutter, ma’am. Ow, okay, I get it!” He jumps away from your jabbing elbows. “Seriously, these are incredible. You could make money off of them.”

“You’re just saying that because you want me to make them again, for free.”

“Will you?”

“... Maybe if you let me look at how you got to your answer on number 89 on page 151.”

Jake’s hoot of delight carries you all the way to the library, where he shows you his usual spot and apologizes for ever making you uncomfortable with his staring— it’s just that you used to occupy the spot to which his eyes zoned out.

You give him a blank stare of your own. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I never noticed that you sat here. Or that you stared.”

Jake’s blush starts from the bridge of his nose and spreads out across his cheeks. “Oh, well, that’s good, I guess.”

“But I can sit next to you now, and you can stare all you want,” you offer jokingly.

His blush only intensifies. “Nope, that’s fine, I’ll just keep zoning out at whoever they replaced you with at the reference desk. Great, it’s… Huening.” He waves unenthusiastically at the lanky boy.

“Who?” You squint at your replacement.

“Huening Kai. He’s on the basketball team with Heeseung.”

“Are all of your friends athletes?”

“Not all, but most of them, yeah. Sunghoon and Jay are doubles partners on the tennis team, and they were roommates with Heeseung and I, respectively, so that’s how we all became friends. But I’ve got other friends in the physics department. And now, you.” Jake smiles softly at you, letting the words linger in the air for so long that your pulse starts to pick up speed.

“So, this is the famous staring, huh?” You mean for the words to come out friendly and light, but instead they come out low and musing.

“The one and only.”

“Hmm. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, if that’s what you’re wondering.” And you mean it. His gaze is warm and easy, like the blanket a loved one draws up over your shoulders when you’re half-asleep.

Confidence returns to him like a boomerang as the corner of his mouth tips up in a smirk. “Are you giving me permission to stare at you?”

“Five minutes of staring for every problem you let me look at in your notebook.”

“We’re bargaining now?” He tsks and pulls out his work, though his shoulders are shaking with laughter. “How about this: you can look at my notebook for as long as you want, if you let me do the same for yours.”

“That’s just called working together, Jake.”

“Sure, but I also get to stare at you.”

“Tough deal for me.” But you’re staring at him, too, and there’s something hesitant and wanting brewing in your chest. It goes away when you clear your throat. “I’m feeling benevolent today, so I’ll allow it.”

Two hours pass by as you work on problem sets in companionable silence. He does stare at you more often than is perhaps necessary, but half of the time it’s because he really is zoning out. The other half… well, just because you’re friends now doesn’t mean you stopped being pretty.

When you finally decide to call it quits, it’s almost 8pm, and both of your stomachs are growling loudly. Jake yawns and stretches leisurely, like a large puppy. You’d laugh at the sight if you weren’t so transfixed by the ripple of a toned stomach exposed by his stretching. Suddenly, you remember that the soccer team does strength training for an hour every other day, and Jake is no exception.

Thankfully, he’s too busy complaining about being hungry to notice your wandering eyes. “Ugh, I think the dining hall is closing now. I have ramen back at my place, if you wanna—” Jake cuts himself off abruptly as he realizes the innuendo behind his words. “I mean, not like that. You probably have food at your apartment, what am I even saying, haha!” His voice goes high-pitched towards the end.

Mercifully, you ignore his slip-up. “Yeah, actually, we still have mac ‘n cheese left, so I’m probably going to microwave some of that. You’re welcome to take some home with you, if you want.” You shake your head immediately after the words come out of your mouth. “What am I even saying? You have ramen back at your place.”

And then you’re back at square one, both staring at each other with wide eyes and heat creeping up your necks.

Jake is the first to break the silence with peals of laughter that dissolve into giggles. You’re not far behind, and it isn’t long before Huening is glaring at the two of you and miming zipping his lips shut.

The two of you make your way out of the library still giggling, but right outside the library doors, Jake asks if he can walk you home. There’s a shy, boyish look on his face when he asks; it stirs up that strange, stumbling desire in you again.

“I really don’t live that far,” you murmur.

“I’m trying to get my steps in,” he jokes. He knows you saw him running back and forth across the field for two hours during practice today.

“I really don’t live that far,” you repeat, already starting in the direction of your apartment. When you don’t hear him follow, you turn around and quirk an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you coming? Can’t have the star player missing his steps.”

He grins and catches up to you quickly, and then he spends the next ten minutes badgering you for more compliments. You have never felt so warm on the walk home.

Just as promised, you let MJ come to the next home game. It’s your first game as an assistant manager, so between keeping an eye on MJ and keeping an eye on your actual responsibilities, you’re pretty frazzled before the game even starts.

You’re settling MJ into a spot on the bleachers when someone taps your shoulder. You turn around to gasp at the sight of Jake. “Your hair!” The jet-black strands are no more; his hair is now a silvery-tinged blonde.

His smirks as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Team bonding thing we do every year. Jay did it for me this time, though, so it looks better than it normally does.” He crouches down to MJ’s seated level. “Hey, buddy, be kind and stay put for your sister, alright? She’s got a big job today.”

MJ stands up and nods solemnly, then salutes Jake with two fingers that turn into finger guns. The whole display is so ridiculously adorable that everyone around you in the bleachers laughs.

Jake repeats the gesture back at MJ through his own giggles before straightening up and turning to you. “Feeling nervous?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Nah, the playing is easy. Well, it’s not easy, but it’s second nature. I actually find it harder watching from the sidelines, not having any control over the action.” He peers closer at you. “Are you nervous, assistant manager?”

“A little,” you admit. “I still feel like I don’t know much about soccer.”

“MJ could explain everything to you, right?” Jake high-fives your brother. “Sadly, he can’t be with you on the sidelines, but do you see that cat-looking guy over there?”

You squint in the direction Jake points in— a group of his teammates milling around on the sidelines. The cat-looking guy sports amateur-ish frosted tips which make you suppress a chuckle, but he’s easy enough to spot. “Yep, I see him. And the consequences of not having Jay around to dye your hair.”

Jake lets loose a burst of tiny giggles. “He tried his best, okay? And his name is Jungwon. Freshman with a lot of potential, but he sprained his ankle yesterday, so he’s sitting a few games out. He can tell you anything you want to know during the game.” Jake holds his pinky out to you. “You’ll be just fine. I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”

You’re speechless as you nod and wrap your pinky around his. It’s not clear to whose benefit this promise is, but your heart is tap-dancing in your chest at the realization that he came up to the bleachers just to reassure you about the game and ask to see you later.

He releases your pinky and is halfway down the bleachers before you muster up your words to yell at his back, “Good luck!”

When he turns around, he’s beaming. “Don’t need it! You’re here, aren’t you?” Then he’s off to be with his team, and there are people whispering all around you, but all you can do is smile stupidly after him.

“You guys are acting weird,” MJ declares.

“So weird,” Sunghoon agrees.

His sudden appearance makes you yelp. “Sunghoon? When did you get here?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just in time to see that whole display.” He points his thumb behind him. “Yizhuo’s just getting snacks from the car. I know you wanted her to watch MJ during the game— do you mind if I tag along? I wanted to see Jake exercise authority as captain, anyways. It’s gonna be hilarious.”

“Knock yourself out. Hey, MJ, this is Sunghoon, one of Jake and Yizhuo’s friends. He’s on the tennis team, so don’t give him too much of a hard time for doing that instead of soccer, okay?” You ruffle MJ’s hair. “I’m gonna go, but I’ll see you after the game. Be kind!”

“I know!”

Down at the sidelines, you meet Jungwon and the rest of the players not in the field today. You’re tentative at first about asking Jungwon questions, but you find that he’s an enthusiastic— and entertaining— commentator. It isn’t long before the other players are clamoring to give you the low-down on what’s happening out on the field, as well as all the latest team gossip.

“... and that’s why Jisung’s girlfriend is ignoring him,” Sohee explains as the first half of the game comes to an end.

“Should you be telling me this?” You laugh, but the question is somewhat genuine.

Beomgyu pats your shoulder. “There are no secrets on the team, and you’re part of the team now!”

“There are no secrets on the team because everyone is a nosy little shit,” Jake says loudly from behind you.

As one, you and the other players turn to face him.

“Heeeeeeey, cap’n!” Jungwon salutes him with a cheeky grin.

Jake eyes him with suspicion. “You’re not scaring off our new assistant manager, are you? We just got her.”

Mischief glints in Jungwon’s eyes. “Absolutely not. We were just telling her about Jisung’s girlfriend. We can move on to talking about the girl you stare at in the library, instead, if that’s better—”

Jake shuts him up with a (light) slap over the head. “No need, thanks!” The blush blooming over his cheeks is not lost on the team, who giggle like schoolchildren.

“The staring really is famous,” you muse out loud.

“I just came over here to make some substitutions,” Jake huffs. Then, like he can’t help it, he shoots you a small smile. “You doing alright?”

You salute him like Jungwon did. “No complaints, captain.” To your delight, he appears flustered by the title coming out of your mouth.

“O-Okay, so Beomgyu, you’re gonna sub in. Wonbin, too, and…”

The second half of the game goes by in a flash; before you know it, Jake has assisted Beomgyu in scoring the final goal, and your team wins 2-1. The crowd is jubilant, and you’re more animated about the win than you had expected. You join in on all the cheering and applauding with enthusiasm to rival that of MJ, whose screeches of delight you can hear all the way down the bleachers.

You can’t even try to look for Jake at first— every player seems to have welcomed you into their hearts now, so you’re bombarded with a chorus of congratulatory hollers and See you tomorrow! and Thanks for the advice! as they gradually leave the field.

You’re reassuring Anton that it’s not embarrassing to go to the writing tutors at the library for help when Sunghoon and Yizhuo approach with MJ skipping in between them. Anton thanks you profusely before running off to the locker room, and then MJ is talking your ear off about how cool the game was. In between his exclamations, you thank Sunghoon and Yizhuo for staying with him.

“MJ’s pretty cool. Text me anytime you need someone to hang with him during a game,” Sunghoon offers. “Or Heeseung or Jay. We come to these pretty often, since we’re all on our off seasons right now, so there’s usually one of us here.”

You smile genuinely at him. “That’s really nice of you, Sunghoon. Thank you.”

Yizhuo tsks. “Men do the bare minimum.” She ignores Sunghoon’s half-hearted protests and kisses your cheek in farewell. “We have to go— double date. I’ll see you at home!”

You wave goodbye with equal parts amusement and bemusement, and then you turn to the field. At this point, MJ has run off to play with the few stragglers still kicking a ball around, so you watch them for a few minutes with a content smile on your face.

“Hey.” Jake sidles up to you without a sound and then chuckles when you jump in surprise.

You swat at his shoulder halfheartedly. “You just missed Sunghoon. He and Yizhuo are going on a… double date.”

“With each other? Or, like, they’re each going with someone else?”

“Y’know, it wasn’t clear.”

“Man, I’ll have to interrogate him when he gets back. But besides that… how’d you like the game, lucky?” Jake looks expectantly at you.

“I think I understood, like, 60 percent of the game, which is pretty good if you consider that I was probably at 10 percent before today.” You give him the same look. “What does ‘lucky’ refer to? Is that some kind of soccer slang?”

He looks away and runs a hand through his hair, suddenly bashful and bambi-eyed. “No, it’s just me being dumb, I guess. This is the first game we won this season, and it’s the first one you were at, so you’re like… a lucky charm.”

There are many things you could say. Correlation doesn’t equal causation, for one; every fledgling scientist knows this. And there has only been one other game this season, so your data set is quite sparse to begin with. Instead, all that comes out of your mouth is a slightly skeptical but mostly teasing: “I thought you said you didn’t need luck. And what if I was here and you lost instead?”

“Then I would’ve been lucky just to see you on the sidelines,” Jake murmurs.

You are not usually moved by sentiment. But this one is so sweet and sincere tripping off his tongue, delivered with those warm brown eyes; once again, you’re rendered speechless by Jake Sim.

Beomgyu coughs loudly, thoroughly dispersing the pink clouds you half expect to see floating around you and Jake. “Sorry to interrupt,” Beomgyu snickers. “But I think your brother is ready to go home.” He points to where MJ is slumped over on a bench, eyes droopy and hair sticking to his forehead.

The sight makes you smile fondly. “He’s had a big day. We’ll get going, then. Bye, guys!” You wave to the rest of the players on the field and get a few hollers in return as you and Jake walk over to MJ, who seems to have nodded off completely by now.

He looks so young like this— and so peaceful that you don’t want to wake him. You’re debating how to get MJ home with the least amount of disturbance possible when Jake solves the problem for you by crouching down and putting MJ on his back.

“Did you drive here?” Jake asks you in a whisper.

“Yeah,” you whisper back.

Jake hoists MJ further up on his back and secures his arms under the little boy’s legs. “C’mon, I’ll take him to your car.”

He starts walking in the direction of the parking lot, but you’re stuck in place, struck by the sight of Jake moving so slowly, careful not to disturb MJ’s sleep. Here is this guy you lambasted endlessly in your mind and multiple times to his face, all because of an assumption you made, and he’s holding your brother like a treasure. The sight makes your heart ache with inexplicable tenderness.

Dusk bleeds into night as the stars peek out across a velvet sky, and the poets would say that the stars bear witness to this— the moment when that stumbling, hesitant desire in you begins to bloom into full-bodied love.

But you will not realize this until much later, because the heavens are fickle, and there is no easy way from the earth to the stars.

#enhypen #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enhypen x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshot #jake x reader #jake fluff #jake fic #jake oneshot #fic: though the stars walk backward #ss.fic

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