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jhuzen · 1 year

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if ur requests are open…virgin Kazuha with a player m!reader.

Reader made a bet with Beidou about how long it’ll take to get to fuck Kazuha since he’s one of the people on the Crux that the reader hasn’t fucked and Kazuha overhears.

He knows he shouldn’t give in, but he’s wanted the reader for so long so they end up fucking (and confessing feelings because I’m a romantic😭).

tip [m.reader]

actual title: [just the] tip, LMAO. I AM BACK FROM THE DEAD AND I’M BRINGING THREE SMUTS WITH ME. anyway. i think we all know when i say soon, it means 2 weeks later. fuck. i’m so sorry yall i do not know how to squeeze my brain for creativity. so the past two weeks, i’m just working out and gaming and illustrating. also i was halfway through the smut when i got the request for the player reader aND THATS WHEN IMAGINATION STRUCK. so anyway have this adorable samurai, tysm baby for letting me win your 50/50 again ilysm mwah.

𖦹 gentle sex, romantic stuff, they say ily in the end (and i am jealous), it’s been weeks since my last smut so bear with me, an attempt at an oral, fingering, penetration, lots of reassurances, top male reader

It all started with a simple bet between you and Beidou. She was the same captain that challenged you many times in drinking contests, after all (most of which, you’ve lost to her). And while you cannot exactly handle all of your alcohol like she can’t, no one could say the same when it comes to your visceral need to possibly get every living being on the bed with you.

It was a running joke between the entire crew. With your utterly promiscuous nature, you’ve managed to bed every bachelor and bachelorette on the Alcor. It was an amazing feat and an occurrence that happened so much, people would casually compare your performance with each other. Granted, it was embarrassing, but such is the price of being so… whorish.

Not a single soul was saved, even the sweet housekeeper from Mondstadt and his superior that were traveling to the nation of freedom to strike a deal with an elusive winery owner weren’t saved from your promiscuity. Beidou was already hurting from the sides from all the laughing she’s done once she realizes the fleeting glances between the two of them towards you were no mere coincidences.

But maybe not a single soul being saved was… an overstatement.

All of them weren’t safe except for one — the elusive ronin that frequently traveled with Beidou’s crew; Kaedehara Kazuha himself. For some reason, he was the one person that you couldn’t bed, and unfortunately for you, Beidou noticed. She noticed how your flirtatious flair would tone down, turning you into the most unassuming version of yourself that any of the Alcor has ever seen whenever you would entertain Kazuha up in the crow’s nest, a gentle smile on your lips instead of that knowing smirk that could leave anyone writhing.

Beidou already had an idea by then, but she decided to aid you in getting things moving as she made one bet to you.

“If you can get our romantic poet in bed with you, I will retract all drinking contests in the future.”

Your terms were flimsy and shallow. But you figured your liver would greatly appreciate the deal. And if you won, you only said that the captain would have to admit that, although untrue, you have, at some point, beaten her in one contest.

Had you only known what your dear little ronin has in store for you.

Kazuha, admittedly, is an absolute romantic. The verses in his poetry could not make that mere fact any clearer. His mind and heart can coordinate and weave the sweetest words lodged in limited verses that sing the sweetest praises to the unknown.

And often you were the victim of it. Kazuha was well aware of how subdued you seem around him, suddenly discarding the playboy persona that you were known around for, your very reputation that despite the efforts that Kazuha made in order to evade it, it still somehow managed to take the longest detour right to his heart.

You were a magnet that had limitless attraction Kazuha was just a drop in a sea of particles that continued to gravitate to you, despite his constant rumination that you were never going to be a constant in his life. He lives to seek every corner of the world while you discovered the uncharted parts of someone else’s bare skin in your endeavors.

How ironic was it that in his inconsistent lifestyle, he was terrified of having you — someone who is just as much of constant as his stays on places while he wandered through all nations.

But the tiny voice at the back of his head were screaming, pleading for a chance to even experience the atmosphere with you when wrapped in the haze of lust and sex.

It was probably why the moment he overheard your tiny wager with Beidou, the restraints that he kept on his poor longing heart suddenly loosened. And it was probably why the moment you amped up your flirtatious tendencies, Kazuha was suddenly breathless.

To experience of being the end of your smooth words was something Kazuha can only describe as what it feels like to get a taste of his own medicine. Suddenly, you were more forward, you didn’t wait for him to ask you and gaze at the skies with him on the crow’s nest. Everywhere he was, you were suddenly around, like a persistent python that coiled around him until he could no longer breathe — and he loved it.

Maybe it’s why your advances were easily reciprocated by him. Maybe it’s why all of a sudden, he wanted your hand to linger under his chin. Maybe it’s why, out of all his resistance to your charm, it all comes crashing down into a futile effort.

And maybe it’s also exactly why his heart hammered with persistence against his ribcage despite the ache in his knees as he knelt and did his best to suck you off with little to no experience under his belt.

You sat on the edge of the bed, eyes downcast to meet Kazuha’s teary eyes. He was already ruined just from this, mouth barely able to take in more of you. But you were a persistent teacher, and he was an eager student.

A smirked played upon your pretty lips, hand gliding over to Kazuha’s soft cheek before pinching it, stretching his mouth just a little bit more as you slowly pushed your hips, watching your cock make it barely even halfway through Kazuha’s mouth.

You were used to the experienced men that could take you in skillfully even with your size, but the inexperience was somewhat of a breath of fresh air — if not, utterly adorable. The way his tongue refused to stay flat while your cock pushed in, his teeth grazing against your sensitive head ever so slightly, and archons, those lovely tears that glistened through his wet eyelashes as the honorable ronin looked up at you for any form of approval.

“You’ve no idea how incredibly delectable you look right now, love.” Your smooth voice filled his ears and he hummed, pleased from the praise, leaving you hissing as the vibrations from his mouth enveloped your cock.

“Think you can manage a few more inches?” You asked with a curious grin.

Kazuha doesn’t think so, but the innate need to please you and seek your praise was something he quickly found out the moment you stripped him of his robes and adored his body with your sweet words. He nodded, a little unconvincing, a little reluctant, and a little nervous.

You guided his hands that rested on your thighs to grip the base of your length, “For better leverage,” you said, though quite true, it was equally just an excuse to feel his cute little hands around you.

The ronin nodded once more before pushing further, dipping his head until he can take more of you. His cheeks burned and the moment the tip of your head hits the back of his throat, Kazuha immediately pulls back, coughing. You ran your hand through his hair, flashing him a reassuring smile.

“Too much?”

Kazuha’s lips were wet from his own saliva. He opened his eyes to see a tiny sinful string of saliva that connected his lips to your cockhead. He looked up at you with so much determination, almost eager to try again, and while it was immensely adorable, you decided to take pity on Kazuha as you pulled him up to your lap.

“I-I can do more…”

“And we’ll work on that next time,” you said with the same soft reassurance that he has heard from you every time you and Kazuha would engage in a conversation. But it wasn’t what made his heart jump — it was the fact that you opened up the possibility of a next time for him. A possibility that this isn’t a one time thing as he feared.

Before he could even process anything else, his back hits the soft mattress beneath him. It should have been intimidating, but to see tower over him with such a huge figure, Kazuha could only feel the unbridled warmth that radiated from you. He waited with bated breath as you looked down on him, a smile so inviting that it doesn’t even remotely feel like he was participating in a bet, that you were making love to him so tenderly instead.

“Think it’s time for me to finally take care of you, hm?” Your soft croon reached his ears and he could only nod, meek yet still so bloody excited for what happens next.

He could feel his breath get caught in his throat the moment your hands easily opened his legs, and he willfully complied despite how his thighs quivered under your grasp. He watched seat yourself in between his legs, watching you open up that one familiar package of lubricant. You squeezed a generous amount on your fingers before turning to him.

“Try to relax, yeah?”

“M-Mhm…”

Kazuha doesn’t question the way his back immediately arched up as his body responded to your fingers that slowly penetrated him. He could feel the coldness and he shivered, squirming at the tight fit. He could feel it all too much. His hand immediately shot up to latch onto your strong shoulders while he let out a strangled gasp.

Your little samurai was all too enticing, “My~ what a mess I’ve made you, and just from my fingers alone too…” You laughed and Kazuha can only whimper closing his eyes shut to avoid any further embarrassment, though it was clearly futile by then.

Your slowly pumped your fingers, feeling out Kazuha’s gummy walls. He clenched on your fingers with every movement, leaving him writhing against the sheets. It was a sensation that he was all too new in experiencing. His soft gasps and quiet whines echoed through the walls of the remote inn that you graciously paid for under the guise of taking shelter with your travel companion.

Kazuha cried out your name so sweetly, and it was as if the heavens are calling you.

“[Name]… m-more…” he pleaded with a tiny voice, barely managing while your fingers continued to penetrate through his walls that continued to pulsate around your digits. You indulged in every moan that spilled from his lips as you pumped your fingers even more.

You licked your lips, eyeing the samurai in bliss so hungrily. He was ethereal even when he’s a complete mess with sweat cascading through his soft skin and his hair completely tousled as he continued to squirm from your ministrations alone. You drank the very sight of him and you couldn’t wait to take him then and there.

A choked gasp suddenly weaseled out of him as your fingers finally grazed his prostate.

“H-Hah—!” You watched in fascination as your endeared ronin came just from that alone. Cum dripped down from his cock, making a tiny pool on his abdomen. Kazuha was breathless, his body quivering in inconsistent intervals as he reached his high all too early. He looked at you, just as surprised as you are.

“O-Oh… D-Did I—? Already?” Kazuha’s embarrassment was unparalleled, but you were quick to quell that as you leaned in, showering his heaving chest the most chaste kisses, filled with so much care and love that were absent from your times with others. No amount of sweetness could amount to your shallow ones when it wasn’t Kazuha.

“You treat it like it’s a problem,” you chuckled and Kazuha’s face flushed at your playful chastising. Of course it must be a problem. One too many he’s heard about people lasting in bed a better feat when it comes to sex. But you were quick to refute the little beliefs he had. “It only means I’m making you feel good, no?”

Kazuha nodded, speechless for once at such a gentle treatment. He’s heard from the accounts of others just how rough you can be, some men even having to complain about it to you openly, while you only gave a tiny apology before slithering away. But this, even Kazuha wasn’t too certain if this was something new for you or if you thought that he was too fragile to handle you. He griped to himself at the thought and he quickly grabbed onto your wrist.

“I-I’m ready,” he muttered, giving you the full green light.

You have half a mind to question him for a second time, but his look of determination and your own cock that only throbbed painfully against your abdomen was enough to persuade you.

Kazuha could only look on, his eyes widening when his struggles earlier to take you in just with his own mouth came back to bite him in the ass. He looked up, a little frantic as the anxiety only flooded through him — he could barely suck you off without suffocating, how could he take you in so easily.

You only leaned to kiss at the shell of his ear, as gentle as you can, “Don’t worry, we’ll stop if you can’t.”

His arms were quick to hook around your neck, looking down and quivering a little as he felt the way your cockhead brushed against the rim of his entrance, prodding at him with so much temptation. “But… I don’t want it to stop…” he mumbled, only making you laugh at such a sweet sentiment.

“One at a time, mkay? It’s your first time,” You whispered as you slowly lined up, your shaft already prodding at Kazuha’s lubed up hole. “Ready?”

Taking a deep breath, Kazuha only nodded, surrendering control to you to take care of him.

It wasn’t a mistake to be so near him as your ears indulged in Kazuha’s sweetest cries as you slowly eased yourself in. You didn’t bother going all the way as you felt him clench around you even with just a few inches in. It was adorable, remotely endearing as you continued a couple more inches.

“W-Wait,” he was quick to plead, and you stopped, listening intently to his whims.

“Why don’t we practice with just this much, hm?” It wasn’t even a surprise as Kazuha quickly agreed, eager to follow you. He succumbed into the submission of being under your control, to let you do as you please to him and you relished in that very permission to take in every bit of him even the slowest ways.

You drew out some quiet sobs from poor Kazuha as your hips drew back, only to stop just before you could pull out. Your sensitive head alone could even feel the slightest bumps within his walls and it was absolutely divine.

Kazuha hiccuped through his tears despite your shallow, languid thrusts — barely even fully inside and yet he’s already so spent. You could feel every gasp getting pulled out from his system with how his cock seemed to brush against your abdomen with every movement.

“Feels good?” You asked and he only nodded — quite frankly it was a miracle that Kazuha could even still make of what you can say.

“D-Deeper, [Name],” Kazuha begged, coming out in a tiny mewl that you couldn’t seem to refuse.

You followed through his demand, letting in a couple more inches inside and he was squealing so wantonly. The way his walls clenched onto your length, he could feel every sinful throb within his tight warm walls and he couldn’t help but squirm, inching away from your cock when you held him down.

“You can do it, you’re a good boy, yes?” You smiled, your thrusts slowly growing deeper and deeper until it left him writhing underneath you. You could feel the delectable scratch on your broad back as he clutched onto you for dear life.

“M-Mhm… a good boy,” he parroted, his mind numbing with each thrust, his hips slowly meeting your movement as the fervent need to feel you grew inside him.

You were just as easily losing it as your hips moved in a steady pace. Never had you even been this gentle on someone even — but somehow Kazuha brought it out of you. Your soft grunts melded with his delectable moans as you moved your head, lips just a hair distance away from him.

And then it spills from your lips;

“Fuck… I love you so much…”

Kazuha’s eyes snapped open and you immediately stopped your movements, your cock still inches deep inside your little ronin.

A wave of clarity washed over Kazuha as the realization hit you both.

“You mean it?” He asked, love in his eyes with so much anticipation.

You only laughed as you leaned in, “Couldn’t get anymore obvious with that,” you quipped, all too amused as the blush overtook Kazuha’s face down to his neck. A little taken aback, but he only smiled, bringing you in close for a sweet kiss.

“Well, I share the sentiment.” Kazuha mumbled, his breath ghosting over your lips as a lovestruck expression completely took hold of his pretty face.

“Would it kill you to say it back?”

“I love you too.”

You only showed your satisfaction with your lips on his, your fingers digging into the soft flesh of his waist as you lifted him up. A needy whimper was pulled out of Kazuha’s throat as you thrusted one more time, a mischievous and eager smile grazing your face.

You were going to show Kazuha so much more.

And lucky for you, you’ve got the whole night to express that love to each other.

#can you hear me crying because i’ve never felt so single #NEXT ONE #we’re gonna be screwing two dragons in their own separate fics #ofc ofc #genshin impact x male reader #kaedehara kazuha x male reader #kazuha x male reader #kazuha smut #sub genshin impact #jhuzen’s stupid one shots #jhuzen’s shameless filth

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hughiecampbelle · 2 months

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Gen V Preference: First Date

A/N: I know I'm awfully late lol but I'm re-watching Gen V and I am in love with Jordan and Luke lol and I just thought this would be cute :) Once requests open again, Gen V characters will be added to the list! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Luke takes you to the movies. He's a classic guy, it's a classic date. At first you thought it was a joke. You being asked out by Golden Boy? You laugh, unsure of what else to do. You tell him that's funny, cruel but funny, and you try to walk away. When he gives you this speech about him being serious, his tone genuine, you say yes, still unsure. He picks you up on a Friday night, grabbing tickets to a midnight showing. You two end up talking through the whole movie, whispering funny commentary, making the other laugh. You learn he likes chocolate with his popcorn and makes fun of him because of it. Big, famous, soon to be part of The Seven Golden Boy can't eat popcorn without a pack of M&Ms. It's so silly and yet so fitting. It isn't until halfway through do you realize you're actually on a date with Luke and that you're enjoying yourself.

Jordan isn't the best at expressing their feelings, but they do get jealous over you incredibly easily. They intercept another classmate inviting you to study with them, turning them down for you. When you ask why they did that, it just sort of comes out before they can stop: They want to go on a date with you. You weren't expecting that. You and Jordan had been academic rivals from the beginning. You thought they couldn't stand you. You ask if this is a trick or joke and, reluctantly, they admit that it isn't. You and Jordan end up going to the club their friends go to. You have a surprisingly nice time despite getting too competitive and taking too many shots. You play a game of who can get the most phone numbers. Jordan wins, but you accuse them of cheating. You're working with one gender, they have two. It's the best date you've ever been on. Not only is someone challenging you, but they're just as good as you are. It feels like a fair competition. Even if they are a cheater.

Andre wants to show you off and show off in general at a club. He knows this kind of thing isn't advised on campus, going against the rules clearly stated, but you're worth it. Andre is pretty speechless when you show up. You wanted to impress him, so you went all out. You dance and drink and show off your super abilities. It's fun. You forget that you're nervous, you forget all about your insecurities. He gives you this look like you're the only person in the room, in the world. Andre's been working up the courage to ask you out for ages. You've known one another since freshman year, but he was always too scared. It was Luke and Jordan who pushed him to ask you. Now you go to that club frequently, reminiscing about that first date, grateful he had taken that chance and you had said yes.

Cate asks you on a study date. You have a few classes together and she's still trying to figure out if you like her or not. She wants to play it safe, so she hints that she might need some help with a few subjects. Of course she doesn't, she's a straight A student, but you don't need to know that. She sets up a little study date at the library on a Friday night. She doesn't want to come off as clingy or needy, especially if you're not interested. You two get off topic pretty quickly. From family to friends, careers after GodU, petty drama, movies, shows. You end up spending hours together, laughing and talking, your homework is the last thing you're thinking about. She's still not 100% sure how you feel, but she's got a better sense that at least you could be friends. When you do actually get together, she admits that that night was a sort-of date. You had no idea, though looking back, you're of course glad it happened. It was the start of your relationship.

Marie has never been on a date before. This is a bigger deal for her than it is for you. Sensing her nervousness, you offer the idea of going to a party together. It's low-key, you can talk and drink and dance and, when you want to, you can leave. Emma helps her pick out an outfit and when you see her, she looks great. You walk together to the frat house, making small talk, the two of you equally nervous for different reasons. You're the first person she's ever liked. She wants to leave a good impression. She doesn't want you to be scared or creeped out by her Supe abilities. Whenever the conversation goes towards the subject she finds a way to change it. She wants to know about you. You're not sure what will happen after this. You really like her, but you know there's a lot she's not saying. Whatever she's hiding, you assure it can't be that bad. It definitely eases some of her worries, but she also knows it could be as bad as she fears. Maybe even worse.

Emma and you end up getting high in her dorm and watching movies. You and Emma met at the freshman orientation and clicked instantly. Maybe it was too fast to have feelings for you, but she didn't care. She presented it as a casual hangout. She had a mini fridge full of booze and a bong, you were more than happy to join her. You two laughed so hard you cried at the dumbest movies you could have picked out. Because she's high she's a lot less nervous around you, though she's worried she'll slip up and admit her feelings without even realizing. After you two become a couple she admits that that was an attempt at a date. You laugh, saying you would have liked to know it was a date, but it was perfect nonetheless.

Sam doesn't exactly know what is and is not a good date. He mostly knows what to expect from movies. You offer the idea of going to an arcade, some place familiar and low-key. He loves it. Despite his strength, Sam absolutely sucks at skee ball and you end up kicking his ass. He's better at pinball and driving games, but only because he has no idea what he's doing and wins because of dumb luck. He nearly breaks the buttons on the fighting games when he gets too excited. At the end of the date, he uses all his tickets to get you a little duck plushie. He's embarrassed, but you love it. You still have it. It's a reminder of that first date, how nervous and awkward you were, and how far you've come as a couple since then.

#preference #luke riordan #luke riordan x reader #jordan li #jordan li x reader #andre anderson #andre anderson x reader #cate dunlap #cate dunlap x reader #marie moreau #marie moreau x reader #emma meyer #emma meyer x reader #sam riordan #sam riordan x reader #gen v #gen v x reader

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izvmimi · 9 months

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When you wake up on the 25th of December in your too-cold and bare apartment, and melancholy sits in your chest instead of good cheer, you realize perhaps, decorating for one would have been worth it.

It’s too late now, you think, and you’re up too early, just minutes before 8 am. The first thing you look over as you turn in bed is your phone, and Christmas messages from family and friends abound, bringing a smile to your face as you reply to each one, but it’s freezing, there’s nothing to eat unless you turn on the stove, no gifts under a tree you neglected to set up, and you’re the only one around to hear you hum Christmas carols to yourself.

Izuku hasn’t texted or called you yet, but you don’t blame him; the last time you spoke was yesterday, and you’d exchanged wishes then, and he probably doesn’t think you’re awake yet. Plus, he’s no longer in Japan either - just last month, he’d informed you he’d be in Europe for a week to deal with International Hero Commission affairs, which didn’t change that much for you in the grand scheme of things, now that you’re also in the United States for the year, adding yet another degree to your CV.

He won’t be in the doghouse until noon, you decide mercifully. You slip your feet into some fuzzy slippers, and after a moment to freshen up and brush your teeth, you put on your headphones and start cleaning, as you’re wont to do when you’re bored and/or in a less than cheerful mood.

There’s something especially painful about the holidays when you’re feeling a lack of love.

You’re halfway through making your stove spotless when you get a knock on the door. You check your phone first, and the few friends you’ve made in this neck of the woods haven’t alerted you that they were coming by, so you figure the poor soul has gotten the wrong address and will figure it out soon enough.

But there are additional knocks, and as you approach warily, drying your freshly washed hands on the front of your pajamas, you can hear what sounds like… carolers (?) singing quietly right outside your door. But the sound is tinny, as though coming out of a speaker, except for one.

And then you realize.

Opening the door quickly without even bothering to look through the peephole, you look Izuku in the face, who’s practically beaming at you, reindeer antlers and glittering red nose in tow, a red bag slung over his shoulder and a Christmas tree, just small enough to fit through your entryway tightly secured behind him with Blackwhip.

“Izuku…” you murmur, eyes welling up with tears. He laughs, as you fall into him, holding you close with his free arm and kissing your forehead. “You’re really here?” Your voice comes out softly, as though you don’t want to be told you’re mistaken, as if he’d disappear in a moment like a dream.

“Why would I leave you alone on Christmas?” he replies, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to fly across the country with no warning just to come see you. Your arms still around him, you look at him with love, witty quips lacking in the presence of overwhelming affection, then pluck the plastic nose off of his face to kiss him.

There’s little else to say that is more important than the fact that you love him.

The red bag of gifts falls to the ground gently as he lifts you up to deepen the kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist as he uses Blackwhip to collect all of his belongings and come inside your apartment, careful that your lips do not part all the while. It brightens and warms instantly, even before you decorate the tree he brought, knowing that you wouldn’t set up one for just yourself, and cook for two, instead of one.

As usual, the love of your life, Izuku, saves the day.

Or in this case, the holiday.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #daydreams: bnha #mimidoriya #mimi’s notes

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stolenslumber · 6 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 likes 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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joyful-soul-collector · 1 year

Text

Eclectic Ensemble

Pairing: Steven Grant, Marc Spector, and Jake Lockley x gn!reader (reader wears slightly more masculine clothing but other than that it's pretty neutral)

Summary: Reader decides they're going to ask the moon boys out on a date. Things do not go perfectly to plan

Tags: SFW, asking out, neighbors to lovers (is that a tag??), swearing, uhhh reader is a major fucking dork who talks to their cat like it can understand them, no TWs it's all fluff

Wordcount: 1288

Read on Ao3

You couldn’t figure out why you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You’d had crushes before, and those were tolerable, you would daydream, but you’d snap back to reality at some point, and go about your day like normal.

With the man across the hall though… that was something else entirely.

You tried to convince yourself it was just the mystery of him, the fact that he seemed to have three different accents depending on the day, how one day he’d be cheerful and awkward while the other he’d be suave or stand-offish or nervous.

But you couldn’t convince yourself of that, because even after he explained to you that he had DID and was not in fact a method actor of some kind, you still found yourself fascinated by him despite the mystery being solved.

Fascinated by all three of them honestly.

You’d talked to each of them in the hall before, learned things about them, even visited Steven at the museum a couple days ago. That’s what started it honestly, you’d chatted for hours after he got off work, each of them periodically switching out to have turns to speak with you. Sitting next to them by the fountain, rambling on about anything and everything as the sky grew darker and darker, it was the most fun you’d had in ages. And by the end of the night, with the way you couldn’t seem to shake the thoughts of them, you’d think you were in love with all three of them.

Which is also part of the reason you were so nervous to be doing this.

You folded the collar of your dress shirt down, sighing at your reflection in the mirror on your closet door.

“What do you think? Too much?” You turned to look at your cat, who was sitting on your desk, not at all minding that she was wrinkling all your papers. She stared at you for a moment, then licked her paw. “Yeah. Too much.”

There’s no way they’ll say yes, you thought as you unbuttoned your shirt. Even if one of them likes me back, what’re the chances the other two will be willing to date me if they don’t like me? Even lower chances that two of them will be interested, and definitely not all three of them. This is such an awful idea, why the hell am I doing this?

As you were undoing the third button you heard someone walking down the hall outside your front door. Normally this wouldn’t be cause for alarm, but you recognized the voice drawing closer and closer.

“Yeah, I know it’s your turn to choose dinner tonight, but I’m just saying, could you maybe not go wild with the hot sauce this time? You always do that and then leave me and Steven to deal with the stomachache after--”

A voice speaking in Spanish cut him off, and you would’ve started laughing if the panic hadn’t seized you right in that moment.

They weren’t supposed to be home this early! You were supposed to have another hour to get ready, to rehearse what you wanted to say, to work up enough courage!

You didn’t even stop to think about what you were doing because you could hear them getting out their keys, and if you didn’t do it now you weren’t sure you ever would. So you sprinted to your front door and flung it open.

There stood the man you’d been waiting for. It was clear that Steven was the one who dressed them that day, wearing his oversized clothes, but the perpetually frowning face 100% belonged to Marc right now. He glanced over his shoulder at you.

“Oh, hey Y/N! How’re y--” He cut off as he fully turned around to see you, and it was only then that you remembered exactly what you were wearing.

Not only was your shirt halfway unbuttoned, but you were wearing a rather old tank top underneath it, your bedhead was not the hot kind, you didn’t have any shoes or socks on, and of course, you were wearing a pair of fluffy blue pajama pants covered in cat fur.

Marc was clearly trying not to smile, but it wasn’t working very well, and for a moment you were glad for it, as Marc seemed to smile the least out of the three.

“I uh--Well I--Okay I was going to ask you something,” you said with an embarrassed laugh, running a hand through your hair as a nervous habit, but also just to try and get it under control a bit. “But just--Just hang on, lemme put on actual clothes--”

“Pfft, you’re fine, we don’t care about that, you should see the things Marc tries to make us go out in some days,” Jake said, his Spanish accent replacing Marc’s American one. “He would wear pajamas to work if me and Steven didn’t stop him. Go head, what’s up?”

You stared at him for a second, and in that moment you remembered exactly why you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about them.

Because no matter who was talking to you, each of them had that same soft look in their eye. The one that made you feel instantly better after an awful day, that made you smile when you were worried, that made you feel like you could be yourself in a way no one else did.

The one that didn’t care at all how disheveled you looked right now, only about the question you wanted to ask him.

“Do you wanna go out sometime? Maybe for coffee?” you said. Jake blinked, and immediately his demeanor changed, his head tilting to the side as fidgety fingers rose up to touch the strap of his bag.

“You mean, like a date?” Steven said in his British accent. “You’re asking us out? All of us?”

You nodded and suddenly felt like looking anywhere but at their face, running a hand nervously through your hair again.

“You uh, you guys can think about it of course, you don’t have to answer right--”

“We’d love to,” Steven interrupted. You looked up to find him smiling brightly at you, the excitement so evident in him he practically glowed.

“Really? ‘We’ as in, all three of you?”

“Yes, yeah, er, well we've been meaning to for a while really, we wanted to ask you at the fountain the other day but… I dunno, we weren’t sure you liked any of us that way, much less all three of us.”

You gave a small laugh and leaned your arm up on the door frame, shaking your head.

“I honestly don’t know how I couldn’t like all three of you. Really it’s a surprise that all three of you like me.”

You gestured pointedly to your rather comical outfit, and Steven laughed.

“I dunno,” he said, tilting his head and gazing at your eclectic ensemble. “It’s kind of cute, in a messy sort of way. Jake and Marc think so too.”

“Oh? Well maybe I’ll wear this on our date then.”

He laughed again, and you chatted for a few more minutes, long enough to set up a coffee date for Sunday, before Jake said he needed to get started on dinner (much to Steven and Marc’s annoyance).

Once you were back on your flat with the door closed behind you, you punched the air with triumph, letting out a laugh of both relief and excitement.

“YES, yes yes yes! Fuck yeah!”

Your cat stared at you with her head cocked as you did a victory lap around your living room, before returning to licking her fur, and you liked to imagine she silently believed in you all along.

THE END

If you made it this far, congratulations, you have read the first x reader fic I have ever written lol. Lemme know what you think, I hope you enjoyed!

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apocalypseornaw · 10 months

Text

Prove It (Pt 4/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Dean comes to Alicia's and the two of you talk. He begins to plan a redo of your anniversary to make it up to you

Warnings: cursing, mention of a person being killed

The drive from the bunker to Alicia's place would normally take about eight hours give or take but Dean managed to make it in five. His fingers drummed the steering wheel as he turned off the road onto her drive. Sam glanced at him sideways from the passenger seat “Just take a breath Dean. She just needed some space but she called you that means she's not as mad as she was”

Dean shook his head “I'm not worried about her being mad, I'm worried about the fact that I hurt her. What if this was a final straw deal? What if she figures out she can do so much better than me? What if she just didn't want to break things off over the phone?”

Sam shook his head “Dean she loves you. I know you hurt her, hell I even managed to hurt her in this because I took her for granted too but she loves you and you love her. You've made mistakes yeah but you're human man. She gets that, don't overthink just tell her why you wanted to grab a drink and calm your nerves a bit before driving. Tell her what she means to you. She's meeting you halfway by calling”

Dean nodded slowly, Sam was right. That didn't stop his brain from offering him every single bad scenario that could happen when he parked next to your car and took a deep breath before climbing out the car.

In the last four hours you'd taken a forty five minute nap, gotten Alicia to braid your hair and drank half a pot of coffee.

You were currently pacing a hole in the floor while carrying her cat in your arms. The cat was purring in contentment so it was giving you something to keep your mind off the fact that Dean was on his way.

Alicia eventually stepped in front of you to stop your repetitive movements. When you came to a stop she smiled gently and took the cat from your arms, sitting it gently down on the couch. “Sweetie, just take a breath. That man worships the ground you walk on. He'd do damn near anything for you and I know how much you love him. Just calm down”

The moment she got through speaking the rumble of the impala engine hit your ears. She grabbed your hand “C'mon. I'll walk out with you and if Sam's with him we'll give you two the porch for some privacy”

—-------

You walked out onto the porch and froze at the same moment Dean froze on the top doorstep. Alicia and Sam exchanged a knowing look before Sam said “Alicia, got some coffee or something?” She nodded and led him inside.

—-------

Dean couldn't take his eyes off you, only a few days had passed since he saw you but it felt like so much longer. “Hey sweetheart” a small smile flickered to your lips when he spoke “Hey baby”

—-------

You stood there for a second looking at him, God he always had the same effect on you. He was wearing that gray henley you always loved stealing, the stubble lining his jaw told you he hadn't shaved since two days before you left and he looked tired but he was here, right in front of you and any of the remaining anger you'd felt when you left the bunker quickly dissolved.

“God I've missed you” you blurted out before launching yourself into his arms. He caught you without a second thought, wrapping both arms around you. “Sweetheart I am so sorry” he spoke into your hair as he held you. You nodded trying to swallow down the urge to cry. You leaned back enough to look up at him “We can talk about it, I want to talk and need to know what happened but can you please just kiss me first”

“Fuck yes” he mumbled before crashing his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle but passionate, his mouth lingering against yours in a way that made your knees weak. When he pulled away he rested his forehead against yours “I love you” you smiled “I love you too”

—-----------

After a moment you took a deep breath then stepped out of his arms. His face fell a bit but he watched your every movement. “How did you forget?” You asked and he looked like you would've hurt him less by hitting him. “I'm an idiot?” Your jaw clenched at his words “Don't do that. Don't talk down about yourself like that Dean you know I hate it”

A hint of a smile played at his lips “You're always so quick to defend me, even when I mess up” you crossed your arms over your chest before saying “That's because I love you, hell I've defended you and Sam both for as long as I've known the two of you because you are good men. You're a good man Dean, you're a good boyfriend. I know you love me, I've never doubted that but sitting there waiting for you only to find out you're at a bar? That fuckin hurt Dean!”

—-------

Dean's heart flipped hearing you say he was a good man. No other person on earth's opinion would have mattered to him at that moment. He nodded because he knew it had hurt you he hated that it hurt you “We lost someone on the hunt”

Your face softened at his words “Why didn't you tell me?” He motioned around Alicia's porch then shrugged “It wasn't losing someone as much.I'm used to it but she was your height, your build and had your hair color. She was torn apart. I couldn't even see her face. It was so bad and all I could think of was you. The fact that being with me puts a target on your back, I invite pain and loss by being in someone's life…”

He trailed off and you started to reach for him but he shook his head because he wasn't done “I guess I started to spiral a bit. Old insecurities popped up, I just needed to catch my breath before coming home. I didn't mean to forget and I would never purposely hurt you but sweetheart coming home to you gone? That damn near broke me. I can't lose you, please don't leave me again” his breath came out ragged and you were across the porch before he could draw another breath pulling him into your arms.

“I'm not leaving you ever Dean” you promised and he held you tight. He had to make it up to you, a do-over for your anniversary. He'd figure it out tomorrow but for tonight you were in his arms.

@starkleila @fluff-lover @lacilou @suckitands33 @lyarr24 @decadentstrangernacho @nix-rose @irgendwas122 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @tas898

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #prove it mini series

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bluginkgo · 10 months

Text

Wtf am I doing ranting again, you may ask. I was gonna talk about absolute solver again... but then my brain said "Nah, more nuzi." And who am I to refute that argument?

Spoilers, duh

Yes, how fricking typical. A duo of an emotionally scarred emo girl and a retriever puppy boy that get together. But honestly, after being in the usual angst department shipping for a couple of years now, Nuzi is such a refresher. Not to mention, that despite Liam Vickers focusing his story mostly on lore (LORE THAT I CRAVE AND LOVE), he takes time to include little things like nuzi. Nuzi didn't have to happen, but I'm so glad it is pretty much canon. Makes the dark and unbearably scary moments for the duo... bearable. I could go on a whole tangent about these two, but I mostly want to take note of how N interacts with Uzi. (I might do a post later doing the opposite, analysis of Uzi interacting with N.)

To put it simply, N is soft. Wow, Ginkgo what a revelation! (That was sarcasm) I know thank you. But seriously. When he talks to Uzi, his voice softens. Especially taken notice in ep4 during the Falling... for you? scene. Perhaps I'm just dense, or maybe I wasn't paying enough attention when watching the first time, but when N pulled the "therapy session" I was fully expecting for him to chat to her about the murder spree. How fricking wrong I was. N took me by surprise and asked the question that was ACTUALLY bugging Uzi the entire time. Not the killing spree, not the issue with her solver going haywire, not the backstory of her mother. None of that! It was if she was lonely.

"No, don't look. I'm gross and eating people and stuff."

"Yeah, we'll figure that part out. But you know that's not what I mean."

After rewatching the Murder Drones like 20 something times, it still baffles me how he talks to her. Softer, more open, willing to admit he's also scared- despite being a fricking disassembly drone, a demon in the eyes of regular worker drones. I can see where that trust comes from.

Uzi's fought and killed N before. But instead of fighting again, she puts blame on humans that "supposedly" made him.

"Do you really think that the company won't dispose of you, once all the workers are dead?"

Of course, there's way more evidence on how Uzi's comments, mannerisms, and remarks gave N a reason to trust her. There's also something I took notice of. The difference between N's chat with V and Uzi.

In ep3, N is cornered. Uzi and him had a misunderstanding, and V is very hush hush about their past. He has no other place to turn except to V for answers.

"V, if you're hiding something. We can figure this out together!"

He's open, here. Trying to get answers from out of thin air. Now, don't get me wrong. I love V. V is, by far, my most favorite character in the show. I love her violence, sarcasm, and character growth. But because this was only ep3, she's also trying to do what she believes is for the best. And we see why she was very hush hush about their past. N himself said "Not dealing with this great to be immediately honest." When he first lays his eyes upon the experimentation absolute solver was doing in the mansion. In V's perspective, it's better for N to forget. Ignorance is bliss as they say.

You can even see that she's guilty in the following frame for what she was about to do- cut N off literally and figuratively. Of course, since then, V has come a long way. Going even as far as trusting Uzi with everything.

But here's the difference.

"Just avoid another whole spire. Baby steps, together?"

Maybe it's just the moment, maybe it's just simple animation choice. But they made him here uncertain. The same "we can do this together" line, following his attempt with V, is less bright and more uncertain. A question, instead of a statement. He was at least somewhat ready to be shot down again, but instead Uzi met him halfway and took his hand in this big mess. It's these somewhat little moments that build the trust between the two, and what makes Nuzi so wholesome. There's no secret past about them, no big overdramatized misunderstandings. Just two people- or robots- learning how to get through this big mess of the universe ending.

And not to mention that the "together" line comes back to bite on us. The teaser for ep7 and 8 have that line as the last thing we hear.

"...figure things out... together."

I'm probably repeating things people have already said... bite me. I love Nuzi and how they've developed throughout the season. I may be after Murder Drones mainly for lore, but damn me, Nuzi is a really great addition to the entire package.

#murder drones #glitch productions #serial designation n #uzi doorman #serial designation v #biscuitbites #murder drones nuzi #nuzi #n x uzi #rant post #murder drones ep 4 #murder drones ep 3 #murder drones teaser #murder drones ep 7

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misc-obeyme · 1 year

Note

Hello again can i request solomon + rain? Tysm! I really enjoy reading your fics <333

Hello, anon! I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing!

Ahh so many Solomon requests and I am loving it lol. I can't help but write all the fluffiness with this guy.

Thank you for participating!

GN!MC x Solomon with prompt Rain

Warnings: none!

It was early evening and you were on your way to Cocytus Hall, having left the House of Lamentation for the day. You were thinking about your day, your mind busy going over everything that had happened. So you didn't really notice the gathering clouds.

When it began to rain, you weren't concerned at first. It was barely drizzling. A little sprinkle like this was no big deal. You were a little annoyed that you hadn't thought to bring your umbrella with you, but it was fine.

You were about halfway there when the light drizzle turned into a sudden downpour. Your hair became drenched almost instantly, the raindrops sliding down your skin. Your clothes weren't yet soaked, but you knew if you stayed out here it wouldn't be long before they were.

You considered your options. There wasn't really anything around here, though there was a covered bus stop you could sit in. But did you really want to sit there until this stopped? It could be hours. And you were starting to get cold already.

You really weren't that far away from Cocytus Hall, right?

Having made your decision, you began to run toward home, head down, arm up in an attempt to shield yourself as best you could.

You'd only been running like that for a few moments before you collided with something solid and warm. You cried out, afraid you were going to fall over, but an arm circled around you and pulled you forward.

You took a moment to steady yourself and realized that you were no longer getting rained on.

"Are you all right, MC?"

Now that you had your bearings, you looked around to see that Solomon was standing in front of you, an umbrella in his hand and his arm around you. You had run right into him and he had caught you so you wouldn't fall over. He was frowning, clearly concerned.

"Solomon," you said, letting out a breath of relief. "I'm fine, thanks to you. What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you," Solomon said. "It's pouring and I saw you left your umbrella at Cocytus Hall. I thought you might need it. Looks like I was right."

He let go of you to reach up and touch a soaking piece of your hair. He was still frowning as he put his arm back around you to tug you close, rubbing your back to help warm you up.

"You came all the way out here just to bring me my umbrella?" you asked. You shook your head.

"I figured you would be too tired to use your magic to teleport home," Solomon said. "And well… I didn't like the idea of you out here getting soaked."

You laughed. "I was going to just run the rest of the way."

Solomon sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

You were about to come back with a snappy reply when a fierce gust of wind tore the umbrella right out of Solomon's hand. You watched with wide eyes as his silver hair instantly became just as soaked as yours was.

The two of you looked at each other in surprise for a moment before you both went running after the umbrella, which was rolling dramatically away.

While you were both running, Solomon cast a wind spell to blow it back toward you and you finally managed to catch it.

You turned to him and brandished it triumphantly, laughing. "I got it!"

Solomon was laughing too and he caught you as he ran up, twirling you briefly in the rain.

When you had finally stopped laughing and caught your breath, you looked at Solomon who was watching you with a gentle smile. The rain continued to fall down in a heavy sheet, but the umbrella was hanging uselessly in your hand.

You shivered, both from the cold and from the feeling of Solomon's arms still around your waist. Your clothes were clinging to you now and they felt heavy on your body. You couldn't help but notice Solomon's clothes were in a similar state.

Solomon kissed you, rain water slipping between your lips, his hands gripping you as though he just couldn't help it. You laughed a little against his mouth as you brought the umbrella up to shield you both from the rain.

Solomon pulled away from you only to kiss the raindrops that still lingered on your cheeks. He pressed his forehead to yours for a moment before letting you go and taking your hand instead.

"Let's go home," he said. "So I can warm you up properly."

You smiled as many thoughts ran through your mind at this suggestion. You squeezed his hand and the two of you went the rest of the way to Cocytus Hall for the evening.

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me fanfiction #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x mc #obey me solomon x reader #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #misc 500 followers event #misc writes

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scorpioriesling · 6 months

Text

Unsettled (pt. 3)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairings: None confirmed, light Lucien x reader!

Warnings: None!

Summary: Lucien is sent on a task to meet with Y/N in her home, however this task leaves him feeling unsettled. He’s forced to remember his role in the Spring court over his feelings.

SR’s Note: More part(s?) are OBVIOUSLY coming as soon as I can crank ‘em out (; Read part 2 first if you haven’t!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Over the next three weeks, your family continued to receive order after order from the estate. You practically jumped at the opportunity to deliver the florals; trying not to look too suspicious, you still hadn’t told your family of the invitation to the ball. Were you truly invited? You supposed so, Tamlin did ask you with his own two lips, however you just couldn’t believe it to be so. The moment your mother found out of the affair, she’d make it a humongous deal, which you definitely didn’t want. Not yet.

On a particularly pleasant evening, you were curled up in your family’s sitting room sofa, your favorite novel in hand. The sun was just beginning to fade to an amber glow, and the smell from the kitchen led you to believe dinner would be ready within the hour. That is, until you heard an impatient knock at the front door.

“Y/N, are you to be expecting anyone?” Your mother asks, her footsteps padding down the hallway. You mark the page in your book and rise from your seat. The thing is, you weren’t expecting anyone, which made the ball of tangled yarn in your stomach twist. Could it be Tamlin?

“Not necessarily,” you begin hastily. Peering through the panes of glass that made up the mosaic of your front door, you spotted the unmistakable green and gold attire. You weren’t quite ready for your mom to figure out about the ball yet; so you quicken your steps, hoping to beat her to the door. However, you don’t.

She unlatches the door lock and pulls it open before you’re halfway down the hallway, and you pause. To your horror, the person outside and her have already seen one another and are talking. You’re far enough to barely make out what the visitor is saying, but you see your mother’s wide smile as she happily chats with your new guest.

“Yes please dear! Come on in.” She swings the door open wider, and lo and behold, none other than the flaming haired Vanserra is stepping through the frame. He offers your mother a kind smile, nodding to her as he steps in. Then he catches your eye.

“Y/N! I don’t know if you two have actually met, um…” Your mother starts. Lucien is staring at you, looking you up and down. You draw closer, swallowing the lump in your throat and willing him to understand the silent plea in your eyes. Please, please don’t mention the ball. Please don’t say anything, honestly just act like you don’t even know me.

As if reading your mind, he angles his chin slightly to her. “No worries, Miss.” He clears his throat, his eyes never leaving yours. “You would be correct. We haven’t met before.”

You never thought you’d be so thankful to Lucien of all males, but in this moment, you are. How he knew, you were unsure, but you didn’t let it show on your face. He bowed at the waist, a bit dramatically, you thought. Refraining from rolling your eyes was hard, but you smiled at him nonetheless. Your mother only beamed at you. She was practically screaming, oh my goodness look at this handsome boy in our home coming to see our daughter!

“My name is Lucien Vanserra. I am the High Lord’s emissary, and rather good friend at that.” It was your turn to bow, your mother’s eyes urging you to do so.

“Y/N.” Is all you say in response. Your mother scowls.

“Lucien, we’re prior to the Autumn court as well! I recognized you when I saw you, I must admit.” Your mother states, rather sheepishly. Lucien straightens, taking delight in learning this fact about you.

“Well it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, and that of other Autumn court natives.” He grins towards your mom, and she pats a hand on his large shoulder, giggling almost at him. What’s gotten into her? If only she knew the sassy, almost arrogant-

“I hate to be blunt and ask, but I am in the middle of preparing supper,” she begins. Lucien nods, hanging onto her every word. “What brings you to the square? Or, well, to our home I mean? I would be selfish and assume it to be my daughter who had caught someone’s attention, but-“

“MOM.” You cut in, your cheeks flushing. Lucien’s eyes dart to you, and a small chuckle escapes his lips. He shrugs, hands held up in mock defense.

“It seems we can agree you do have a beautiful girl, here,” he begins, earning a gleaming-eyed stare from your mother in return. Your hands begin to sweat. What is he doing?

Keeping her from finding out about Tamlin and the ball, just like you asked.

“…Uh, which is why I stopped in. To ask your daughter for the evening with me. I’d seen her a few times at the estate, but I’ve come to learn I’d like to spend time with her.” He stares at you timidly. You’d never seen him so… fragile? You couldn’t place his expression, but your mother almost jumped out of her skin.

“I’m sure she’d love to go with you! She’s got nothing to do all night. Well, I mean you are more than welcome to stay for dinner of course, I’m making meatloaf and-“

“I’d be happy to go.” You stammer. Lucien’s trademark smirk returns, and he extends a hand to you.

“I shall have her back by dusk,” he says, and your mother nods eagerly.

“If not, that’s okay too! You kids take as long as you need. If you get caught up in whatever you find yourselves-“

“MOM!” You pull the door closed behind you.

* ✧･ﾟ: *

“What the hell was that?” You ask, once out of earshot of the front entryway. You knew your mother would see you off; so you kept your back to the house. She couldn’t see, however, your mouth and words flying at Lucien instead. His eyes narrow at you.

“You didn’t seem like you wanted her knowing anything about the ball, or Tamlin, or even me. In my book, I’ve only done you a favor.” You allow your eyes to roll this time.

“Yippee, you’ve done me a solid then.” He snickers.

“Favors can be transactional, you know. Which means, technically, you owe me one now.” You shake your head, finally approaching the chestnut horse at the end of the cobblestone path from your front door.

“Whatever you say, Lucien.” He drops his hand, hoisting himself onto his horse and slinging his leg over. You stare up at him from the ground and cross your arms.

“Haven’t you ever heard of ladies first?” You ask, cocking a brow at him. The sun is dipping lower in the sky, sending streams of gold through his tousled red locks.

“I’ve seen you get on and off your own before,” he states. “And, I didn’t think you’d much appreciate my hand on your ass, helping you off the ground much.” You take his outstretched hand in yours and realize that he is pulling you up to sit in front of him. In his lap.

Once you’re comfortable, you turn and face him. His hands settle lightly on your hips for a moment, and you glance down, then back up to meet his golden and amber flecked eyes.

“You’re right… I wouldn’t.” You feel breathless almost. Like the lie was as unbelievable sounding coming out as it was feeling inside. You quite enjoyed his large, warm hands on your hips. You were glad when he didn’t move them.

“Grab the reins.”

* ✧･ﾟ: *

“So,” You ask casually. “What was the real purpose of your unannounced visit to my home, anyway?” Lucien sighs and you can feel his chest rise and fall against your back.

“Tamlin sent me, of course.” He states. You wait a beat, growing impatient.

“And?”

“And,” he continues. “He wanted me to bring you to the estate to practice with him for the upcoming masquerade.” He finishes. Your brows knit together in confusion.

“Practice? Like what, dancing?” You say.

“Yes, Y/N.” Lucien groans out. You almost groan in response.

“I didn’t know this would need a whole lot of practice and work… I thought it was just. I don’t know. Fun?” You say vulnerably. Lucien squeezes your hips once, and you sit up straight.

“Who says you can’t have fun?” He muses. Within the hour, you’re at the estate, following Lucien from the stables where you’ve stationed the mare up to the front doors. You can’t help but take him in walking before you; the emerald green fabric against his tan, freckled skin; the radiant red hues of his hair; his strong muscled legs straining against his tight pants-

Stop it. You’re here to see the High Lord.

As if on cue, Tamlin meets you both in the estate foyer, dressed simply but looking ravishing. His white button down and black slacks don’t distract from the sculpted features his face provides. He offers a small smile when he sees you.

“Ah, Y/N,” he breathes, taking your hands in his own. “I’ve been thinking of you all day.” You blush, knowing this is just too good to be true.

“I was told we were… practicing? Dancing?” It comes out more of a question than a statement, and Tamlin nods.

“Yes, you will need to learn the traditional High Fae waltzes to prepare for the upcoming ball,” he says. You nod in understanding, and he leads you down a corridor and into a large open room. It has a huge skylight, the evening sky streaked with colors of red, orange, and lilac. The walls feature paintings of flowers of all kinds — it almost looks like an interior garden.

“This is the formal ballroom,” he explains. “It is much smaller than the master ballroom across the estate where the actual ball will be held. However, we can practice in here.” When you both reach the middle of the room, he holds both hands out in gesture to the expanse of space. You are still looking around and gawking when he claps twice. Classical music begins to play, and he takes your hand. Your eyes meet his, and one hand rests on your side as he begins moving, leading you through each step, each routine, each ballad and coaching you through them all.

* ✧･ﾟ: *

It’s dark when Tamlin finally queues the music. Warm white fae light balls around the ballroom illuminate the space; the sky overhead a sea of stars. During the last dance, you’d become frustrated with how difficult it’d gotten over the last few hours. You’d stepped on the High Lord’s feet countless times, and apologized for having to restart more than you can count. You felt a bit of relief when he finally turned the music off.

“Don’t fret; we’ll keep working on it.” He states. You nod your head, a light sweat working to the surface of your forehead. Tamlin motions toward the entrance of the room, where Lucien has appeared, leaning in the doorway.

“Lucien will return you to your home, I do have much to catch up on in my study,” he says. You bite your lip and murmur an okay, not making much of an effort to leave too quickly.

* ✧･ﾟ: *

“Was it really that bad?” He asks. You groan and drop your head against the back of Lucien’s jacket. He’d allowed you to sit behind him this time, per your request. Well… demand.

“It was! I was a fool. An absolute fool.” You mutter. “This is a cruel joke. I cannot go to a ball and not be able to keep up with the dances.” Lucien places a hand on your knee.

“Tamlin asked you to go. Are you really going to say no to him?” he asks tenderly. You bite your lip while contemplating, not for long as a big yawn pulls your lips apart. You lay your cheek against the back of Lucien’s jacket, the soft material and strands of his unbound hair tickling your cheek as the horse moves beneath you.

“No-“ another yawn. “No, um. I guess not, Lucien. I guess not. I wouldn’t have anyone to go with if I didn’t go with him.” You peer out at the stars, loving the simplicity of them, the darkness all around. That darkness grows darker as Lucien continues to answer.

“Y/N don’t be ridiculous now, you know half of Prythian would kill to take you to a ball of this sort,” he stops himself short, hearing your breathing slow and heavy. Thank the Cauldron, he thinks to himself. He’d almost said too much. What lied beneath.

So he continued in silence, listening to your breaths, feeling your arms wrapped around his torso, clinging to him. Did he mind it? Would he mind this? Mind you?

He tried not to think about all of those glittering and wonderful thoughts as he took his best friend’s love interest back to her home for the night. As a responsible emissary would do, he thought.

Repressing any pulling he felt for you low beneath the surface of where your hands lay above his skin.

* ✧･ﾟ: *

Part 4

#a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #acotar #acofas #acotar smut #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader

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feral-fae-writes · 1 year

Text

Hot Gum || One-Shot

A/N: I’m back from the dead. Ain’t that lovely. @rayofsarkasm, you’re welcome. This is my preemptive apology for when we finish reading Ellen Hopkin’s Identical. Minor formatting and editing errors because I’m (unfortunately) posting this on my phone. I’ll fix them at a later time; I don’t have access to a desktop right now. Enjoy, loves.

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Dr. Spencer Reid × BAU Agent!Reader

Wordcount: 1,062(?) Will double-check later.

Type: One-Shot

Summary: A late-night investigation turns into a minor interrogation, and Dr. Reid is only concerned with one outcome — verbal revelation among the fires of hell.

Hot Gum

It wasn’t Spencer that caved first. It was you. Yeah, you’d seen him every so often outside of the BAU’s office when you (rarely) left Garcia’s office, and every single time, his eyes followed. He wasn’t openly staring, no. He was more respectful than that. But you could feel intrigued eyes on yours every step.

You’d asked him what his deal was; the two of you were working late one night — he was checking some information in the database, and you were… supervising? Yeah, supervising Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Reid, who had… What, three PhD’s? The excuse made even your eyes roll.

He didn’t answer.

Truth be told, you just couldn’t stand the idea of anyone being in the repository room after dark. You watched him work; he was chewing gum as he typed without looking at his hands, flames flickering between eyes and screen.

“What are you looking for?”

“The last known on-the-grid location of the unsub. An internet trail.”

No shit, Sherlock.

“What, you’re going to magic a lead out of thin air? Isn’t that usually Garcia’s thing?”

“Yes. But: ‘Chicks dig magic,’” he replied.

The reply seemed a little quippy, and you tilted your head in blatant amusement. “Who told you that?”

“Morgan.”

“Hm. What flavour of gum is that?”

“Cinnamon.”

Silence (and the sound of typing) hung in the air for a few minutes.

“What’s your problem?” You blurted out. Immediately, a hand came up to cover your mouth in shock, as if to backpedal — as if to rescind the words. “Shit, I’m—”

“My problem?” He inquired, fingertips pausing on the keys, hummingbird hands still. Why were you noticing his hands? You shook your head and tried to meet his eyes.

“I mean… I just don’t get it, Spencer.”

He blinked. His hands tensed slightly on the keyboard; maybe you’d offended him by calling him by his first name? The rest of the team called him by Reid. You barreled onward. No going back now, lines of formality crossed concerning his name or not.

“You watch me like a hawk, but you’ve not said a word to me since I joined the BAU.”

“That was intentional. I’m sorry. If it helps, I… I admire the work you do; I could never understand it.”

Now it was your turn to blink. Dr. Spencer Reid — the team-proclaimed genius, the man who could read 20,000 words per minute and had an eidetic memory — couldn’t figure out computers.

“I’m a technophobe,” he explained further, tonally dipping into a register he only used for his apparently not-so-rare (according to the team, but not in your experience) insights into random information.

“It’s not as uncommon as you might think. Even as early as the 19th century, relatively speaking, people were afraid of technology advancing. Poets William Wordsworth and William Blake believed that the technological changes taking place as a part of the industrial revolution were a pollution — a turn of circumstances that tarnished their cherished views of nature.”

His voice was reserved, even soft, as he talked about poets and progress, and, to be honest, you were only half-listening. His voice lulled you into a sort of dreamy comfort you didn’t have words for, when he did speak. His eyes never left the screen.

“You sound like an encyclopedia.”

“To the rest of the team, I am one.”

“Right. You never answered my question, Doctor.”

At that, he spun in his chair to face you, halfway, his hands flitting up off the keys, then back. A gasp escaped you — In surprise? In fear? … In excitement? — but he didn’t outwardly react.

“My problem is you.”

“What?”

“I’m curious about you.”

You scanned him, looking for something, but you didn't even know what. Your eyes trailed his hair, his eyes, the bridge of his nose, his stubbled jaw… his lips. When he spoke again, it was in a low whisper. His hands left the keyboard for a third time, hummingbird wings flitting up to brush a lock of hair out of your eyes. And then he took your glasses off.

“Hey!”

“Darling,” he murmured. Darling? “I can’t go through this again.”

His voice carried a smoky rasp that sent distant coppery desire through you. He inspected your glasses. You stared at him, staring at them, through mildly blurry vision.

“You’re near-sighted. To a severe degree.”

“Your point, Doctor?” He wasn’t an optometrist, too… was he? That’d be the cherry on top of the super-genius sundae.

“My point,” he started, looking up at you with somber, doe-like brown eyes, “is that you won’t need these. May I?” He asked, inclining his head toward your glasses.

“Excuse me? Doctor—“

He pulled you in, with gentle insistence; despite that, it was sudden and you let out a tiny yelp.

“May I?” He repeated, voice now merely a breath. “I promise I’ll explain myself.”

You only nodded, unsure of what exactly you were agreeing to, but dumbfounded and mute from shock. You watched as he put your glasses on, pulling you closer, and when that was done, he moved Garcia’s keyboard.

“Spencer—” You tried again.

“You know, you’re the only one besides J.J. to not call me Reid all the time?”

You fell mute again, as he lifted you up like a doll, placing your left, then right, leg on each respective shoulder.

“R-Reid,” you whimpered.

“Are you scared? Please don’t be. Do you want to know why you’re my problem?”

Unconsciously, you bit your lip. “There’s cameras in here,” you replied lamely. “Garcia will—”

“Yeah. I know.”

“You don’t care?”

“I’ll disinfect everything. Please don’t worry,” he replied. Pleaded. And as you stared into those big, brown, mournful eyes, you realised two things:

One. You didn’t have an answer to that. You only knew that you felt the coppery desire becoming a hot chill as he spoke. He had slid your panties off, down your legs, as you’d questioned him.

Two. You knew you were okay with being both the solution and the problem in his life. Now he was kissing the bridge of your nose, your lips. His hot gum was in your mouth. He was sharing his fever.

“W-Why?”

“I have to warn you; you’re my problem because… my last two relationships? Both girls ended up dead.”

Before you could formulate an answer, he lowered his head as if in repentance, falling to his knees in front of you. He confessed with his tongue, and as he spoke sin, you tasted cinnamon.

#fae's fics #fae writes #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #my fic

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evilwickedme · 2 years

Note

You seemed sad that nobody's asked for jayroy fic recs. I want jayroy fics! I am a simple creecher with simple needs.

God what a mood tho. ngl I'm obsessed with these two

I've already recommended some of my favs in previous posts! here and here for your enjoyment

anyway here we go

ace-spectrum!Jason

one of my favorite hc and with a lot of support from the text imho; I have more of these these are just my favs

Kiss Me, Kill Me, Take Me Home - 5+1 times somebody kissed Jason, ace!Jason

Jane Austen Never Said Anything About Speed Dating - this one's pretty long. an au where Jason never died and is dealing with trauma from an abusive ex. again, outright ace!Jason and his ex absolutely raped him, so dark subject matter but it's still so good. Jason's brothers try to get him back in the game after the breakup and he ends up running into Roy at speed dating; they decide to fake date to get both their families off their backs. some nice Lian stuff here too.

Between These Pages (Is a Wonderful Place To Be) - ace!Jason gets extremely injured and Roy reads to him, cute little oneshot

(can you feel) the fire burning through your veins - nothing wrong with a little bit of self promo, right? this is demi!gay!Jason figuring his identity out and navigating his changing relationship with Roy. it takes place in a slightly alternate timeline where he's been to therapy for a couple of years and he never slept with Talia so it's his first time with pretty much everything. there actually is smut but it's Jason's first time :D

there is sex in this

I’ve Got the Feeling You’re the Right Thing After All - more poisonivory??? yes please!!! Roy's has had feelings for Dick since their teen titans days, but still ends up in a fwb with Jason when he's asked to help Jason run the iceberg lounge... somewhat plotty, smut in basically every chapter, so fucking good

Let me shipwreck in your thighs - we all have a thing for Jason's thighs, lbr

Arrows and Bullets - a two fic series. injured Jason falls into Roy's apartment and stays there until he heals. once again, some quality Lian stuff here. the sequel fic has some minor Jason-comes-back-home and surrounds christmas.

Boys Don't Cry - trans!Jason. I think this does have a minor plot?? I can't remember it's basically just fifty thousand words of marathon sex over the course of like at least a week

there's a middle ground between ace and outright smut actually

Some Kind of Disaster - this is actually one of my favorites and I've reread the whole thing more than once even though it's a mildly long series (although tbf I've reread longer). instead of outright dying at sanctuary Roy is just grievously injured and Jason runs to his side the moment he hears and refuses to leave. there's a lot of angst. one of the fics is smutty; halfway through the series Roy discovers Lian exists and that's where the plot really kicks in. so good

The Midnight Snow - Robin!Jason is in a time loop and Roy gets trapped in there with him

Flowers Are My Love Language - Jason keeps trying to get Roy to date him using flowers, and Roy simply refuses to get the message

Around Red Hood's Barn - Neighbors au where Roy and Jason are still partners as vigilantes, Roy just doesn't know Red Hood's identity, and Roy CANNOT STAND his new neighbor Jason. I love me some good identity shenanigans in a superhero fic

Magnet Tar Pit Trap - I already linked one cowboy au in the first fic rec (linked above), why not one more

other

remember how canonically Roy died in Heroes in Crisis? ow. I actually already rec'd my favorite one of these in the first Jason fic rec (linked! above!) so check that one out too

It is only, and all about Roy - I actually really regretted not putting this in the original fic rec (again, linked above). Jason shows up in Star City and ends up collaborating with Oliver. JayRoy is only implied but either way Jason is clearly deeply grieving Roy's death and so is Ollie

Please, come back - JayRoy were together before sanctuary and Jason grieves his death deeply. happy ending tho!

anyway yeah that's some good fics believe me when I say I could've rec'd twice as many honestly. unfortunately I had to stop somewhere so that's it for now

#there's so much good jayroy+lian fluff I wish I'd put more here but again. this is already so much #like fifteen is just so much #I also tried to include mostly fics that are actually respectful towards Roy cause a lot of jayroy fics are really only interested in Jason #jayroy #roy harper #jason todd #lian harper #oliver queen #arrowfam #batfam #dc #dc fic #fic recs #gail speaks #ask #vote-4-crow #jason todd my beloved #jt

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worth-this-and-more · 24 days

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Do think Faye and natasia knew about Erebus being the shadow king. I would like see more about warlocks and more dragons do think still exist and maybe like have humans forms I do think Mariah has more family

hehe happy to see ya again anon!!

i am not really sure because i feel like the shadow king killed erebus recently?? like after he found out his descendant has infiltrated the order so I think it came after that. and I really think bree is the only one who figured out that "the hunter", "the great devourer" and "the shadow king" are the same because before that the ancestors didn't really have time to share experiences, they just warned the next kin about the dangers of using too much root. and it wasn't until valec revealed the bloodmark on bree that anyone ever saw exactly why there's a root furnace, so yeah I don't think they knew exactly but given natasia's connection to the shadow king she might've thought about it but there's really no big reason how or why she would think so at all. even if the description does match the shadow king she could've pondered upon the possibility maybe. but like now, in oathbound, after sel was left with natasia I think she will now connect the two and two together??

omggg yesss dragons dragons dragonssss and ofc warlocks, the one we met at the crossroads bar had a very dramatic scene and I feel like he's definitely gonna keep a grudge with bree. maybe the word has spread about a certain black girl with a guy who looks like he's dressed for Halloween, whose hobby is to strip warlocks or their powers. maybe bree's gonna face some resistance, because in the oathbound excerpt the shadow king took her to a cambion and he was not pretty welcoming at all, warlocks might have the same response. the dragonsss i have a feeling that our dragon king is going to kill the shadow king, in the fourth book obviously there's no way this ends in oathbound, but even before that we might get a dragon scene because comon that scene was just gloriousss

i do think the shadow king must also have a form he shapeshift to as animals for easy mobility or something. it could potentially be a dragon but i don't see much possibility of it because like arthur was called pendragon and bree's a dragon so there's that, shadow king is called the hunter and shit so dragons might be a possibility but not the only one. if the shadow king does have a form i feel like crow or raven is the most obvious one but it could also lean more towards . . . owls. more specifically, eagle owl?? (see why i said that hehe) but yeah given the ongoing theory that shadow king could be sel and valec's dad, i feel like his form could be an own. an eagle owl. and I'm excited to see it ngl. like he can already shapeshift into people he kills (I'm curious to the mechanism of this too, like why does he have to kill them?? is it to like take their souls and tie them in a unfair deal or like there are no two persons accidentally at the same time or is there an unwritten rule and that you gotta kill the person to shapeshift into them?? can merlins do that too, since they're already shapeshifting into animals, but like they're said to only have one animal to shapeshift so it seems kinda hard. nvm) so his animal form could have more choices or it could just be one, easy to shift into and good to transport or spy.

mariah's family could play a role in oathbound if bree yk like meets up with her sometime, like maybe halfway through the book. her rootcrafter family would definitely be one way to introduce us more to bree's rootcrafting abilities and their uses because hey it has healing abilities, and bree has unlimited root furnace, do you see what I see?? she's basically indestructible with healing if she learns to properly wield her rootcrafting powers. it's a possibility and I hope its introduced more because like on one hand it'd be difficult to manage maintaining aether constructs and healing your wounds but on the other hand can you imagine the shock William would get when he sees bree just casually holding up her shield and her mage flame healing the slash on her side. haha just amazinggg and we've already seen mage flame cleaning up the shadowborn gunk off her hands (graveyard scene, legendborn) so yeah the possibilities could be explored. and also, free immunity from that healing forever, like yk alice mesmer resisting abilities?? she gained them after being healed by bree's root I feel like this could be done more, as like a line of defense for everyone on team bree so they can't be interrogated or soemthing.

i kinda went off the rails here lmaoo but okay imma stop now bbyee

#thoughts im boutta scream #i really be ranting my heart out around here lmaoo #i feel like i gotta do a theories post soon #there are some very interesting theories i saw too #really need to reblog them all #the legendborn cycle #legendborn #bloodmarked #oathbound #tracy deonn #legendborn cycle #bree matthews #team bree #selwyn kane #nick davis #william scitterson #alice chen #natasia kane #faye matthews

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senashenta · 2 months

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Horror High: Chapter Two

Title: Horror High

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: NC-17 (in future chapters)

Warnings: Sex, Violence

Summary: John Winchester plants his eldest son at Caspar High in Jacksonville because weird things have been happening there: people disappearing. People reappearing only dead and drained of all their bodily fluids. Cocoons. It’s up to Dean to figure out what’s stalking Caspar’s halls and deal with it accordingly; but then he meets the New Kid—newer than him, even, the New-New Kid—Castiel Novak, and all his plans get severely derailed. Now Dean has to juggle the supernatural case—a really hungry jorogumo—and also the fact that he’s very quickly falling in love, something that is absolutely forbidden by his dad.

Meanwhile Castiel, shoved into the third new school in a year because his adoptive father—Chuck Shurley’s—job has them moving around a lot, struggles to fit in at Caspar High, not only because he’s the New Kid but because he’s the weird New Kid. Dean seems like a saving grace, a harbor in a storm, someone who doesn’t judge him—that is until Cas finds out about Dean’s night job. Cas’s life just got a whole lot stranger—but that doesn’t stop him from falling for Dean, regardless.

Notes: Can also be read HERE ON AO3. New chapter next Friday! :)

HORROR HIGH TUMBLR MASTER POST HERE.

HORROR HIGH Chapter Two By Senashenta

Dean ended up walking him all the way home after all. Neither of them said much. Dean’s thoughts were whirling, and Cas seemed a little in shock, but not so bad all things considered. When they arrived at Cas’s house, though, Dean declined to go inside, instead just checking over the other boy’s neck again, then instructing him to clean it and bandage it, and promising he would explain the next day.

Then he took off back to the motel.

Cas followed Dean’s orders, going inside and straight up to his room, where he dried off, changed his clothes, and then bandaged his neck to the best of his ability. He spent the rest of the night laying in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep or even focus enough to do homework because vampires were real. Vampires. Were. Real.

The next day he was tired but felt well enough to go to school and like hell was he going to not go and miss Dean’s promised explanation. He looked for the other boy in the lobby before classes started in the morning but couldn’t spot him, and eventually the first bell rang. He would have to wait until lunch.

When lunch time arrived, he hurried down to the gym to wait anxiously for Dean to show up, half expecting him not to—and was relieved when Dean came around the corner, heading toward him but avoiding his eyes. Why, Cas didn’t know. It wasn’t like Dean had done anything wrong.

“Let me see your neck,” Was the first thing Dean said to him, and when Cas tilted his head to the side, the older teen checked over the bandage there quickly before nodding, “that’s good, it’s… it doesn’t hurt, does it?”

Cas shook his head. “No.”

“Good. Come on.” Dean headed into the gym and Cas followed, and together they climbed in behind the bleachers and settled in their usual spot. Cas fished out their lunches and handed Dean his, but Dean just set his sandwich aside for the time being, something serious obviously on his mind. “Cas, I… I’m sorry. That should never have happened to you.”

Cas was halfway to taking a bite of his sandwich but paused and made a confused noise, “why are you apologizing? You didn’t bite me.” Then he stopped, lowering his sandwich a little and said, vaguely, “vampires are real.” Before asking, “am I going to turn into a vampire now? That’s how it works, right? At least that’s how it works in books and movies, I don’t…” And then, again; “vampires are real.”

That finally seemed to break a little of the tension that had built up in Dean, and he laughed weakly. “You’re not going to turn into a vampire. You have to ingest their blood, or get it in an open wound or something. That’s how they turn people.”

“Vampires are real.” Cas repeated.

“Yes,” Dean confirmed, “and they’re not the only things that are real, there are…” Trailing off, he hesitated before pulling a battered notebook out of his jacket—the notebook he was always scribbling in—and holding it out. “This is my journal. It’s… all the things I’ve Hunted. All the stuff I know, about all the things that are out there. My Dad’s journal is—I mean, mine pales in comparison, but you’ll get the idea.”

“Hunted?”

“Yeah, I…” Another hesitation. This was clearly hard for Dean. “I’m not supposed to talk about this to anyone. It’s the Big Secret. But my family, me and my Dad mostly, we Hunt things. Evil things. Monsters. It’s why we travel around so much, we’re always tracking things down to kill them. My Dad’s in Utah right now taking care of a poltergeist situation.”

Cas set his food aside entirely and opened the notebook, flipping through the pages slowly, just skimming some of the handwritten text and drawings. “Monsters are real.” He amended, “and you… Hunt them?”

“Pretty much.”

That made Cas frown slightly, and he asked, “then why are you here, Dean?”

Dean winced at that. “Yeah, about that.” He rubbed a hand through his hair and heaved a sigh, “there’s something going on in this school. You’re new so you don’t know yet. But people keep vanishing, and turning up dead and dried up, like husks. Boys. And male teachers. It’s been happening for a while now. So… Dad dropped me and Sammy here to take care of it. It’s my first solo Hunt. I’ve only ever Hunted with him before.”

“Hm.” Cas hummed, still thumbling through the notebook. “Can I… hang onto this? Just for today? I’ll bring it back to you tomorrow, I promise, I just…”

“It’s a lot to take it at once.” Dean agreed, “just don’t lose it.”

“I promise.” Cas nodded, and carefully tucked the notebook into his backpack. Then he picked his lunch back up and began to eat, slowly and deliberately. “Hey Dean, tell me more about your family, your Dad and the Hunting stuff.”

More hesitation, but slowly Dean began to talk, laying everything out for him, giving Cas a clear picture of who his dad was as a person and as a Hunter, the way he had grown up, always on the road with his dad and Sam, the different Hunts he had been on, the different monster they had killed, the different people they had saved…

And once the floodgates opened, there seemed to be no closing them.

Dean continued to talk for a long time, about his dad, about his brother, about monsters that needed to be tracked down and eliminated, and Cas just focused on the movement of his mouth as it formed the words, unable to look away until, a few minutes later, he abruptly leaned over and kissed the other boy, effectively silencing him in an instant.

Dean froze—but then surged into movement again, grabbing hard at Cas’s shirt and shoving him back to arms’ length, green eyes darting over the younger’s face. For a moment, Cas worried that he had just bought himself a punch. Maybe two. Maybe more.

Instead, something seemed to click in Dean’s gaze, and he pulled Cas forward again, dragging him into another kiss, hard and deep. Cas made a little surprised sound in the back of his throat but—well—he wasn’t complaining, so he just went along with it, poured himself into the series of kisses that followed until they finally had to part to catch their breaths, Dean’s hands still fisted in the front of his shirt, holding him close the entire time.

“Well.” Cas managed finally, still breathing hard, “I mean. Sorry.”

Dean actually barked a laugh. Releasing Cas’s shirt, he leaned back against the brick wall behind them and shook his head. “My Dad is gonna kill me.”

“No boys?” Cas ventured.

“No relationships.” Dean corrected, “it’s one of the rules. I don’t think he’d care that you’re a boy.”

“Oh.”

“A relationship is a weakness that can be exploited. If I was just screwing you he wouldn’t care.” Dean heaved a sigh and turned his head to look at Cas, almost appraising. Finally, he cracked a little smile. “I think you might be worth it, though.”

Cas blinked in surprise and couldn’t help the small smile that crept across his own face. “So, this is a relationship, then?”

Dean reached with one hand to grab at the front of his shirt again, tugging gently until they were close once more, and leaned in for another kiss. “Yeah, I think. If you want.”

Cas most definitely wanted, not even the weird monster stuff could change that.

-- --

Though he hadn’t really had a chance to do much exploring of Jacksonville proper yet, and he wasn’t what you would call the Mall Type, Cas had discovered a couple of little stores nearby to where he lived that he rather liked shortly after moving there. They were located in a strip mall a couple blocks from his house.

The first was a pet store, Chicks Dig It, which specialized in birds but also sold things for other animals, including fish food, for his goldfish, and crickets that he could feed to his pet tarantula; the second was called Parchment Paper and was a second-hand bookstore, nothing more needed to be said there, and the third, Magickal Things, was a store catering to the local New Age and Pagan community.

He frequented all three, but that weekend he was in Magickal Things looking for talismans to ward off nightmares and coming up empty. He was also just poking around, because every time he went into Magickal Things they seemed to have a ton of new items that he had never seen before. The place was an absolute treasure trove.

Today, he found himself sorting through the gemstones and reading up on their uses, then admiring the suncatchers that were displayed prominently in the front window.

And then he spotted the little box of sew-on patches and a smile brightened his face immediately. He began digging through the box to see if any of them spoke to him, humming over a couple before choosing one that was a hand, palm out with the palmistry lines labelled on it. He kind of liked that one. Then he continued digging—until he found one that was round, just a simple pentagram. He pulled it out of the box, too.

People tended to associate pentagrams with Satanism, but Cas knew from talking with the shop owner that they were actually powerful protection sigils. This was perfect. Now he smiled down at the patch, pleased, and headed up to the front to pay.

-- --

Two days later found him under the bleachers with Dean again, and he handed the older boy his lunch but didn’t get into his own right away, instead digging out the pentagram patch and his needle and thread.

“Dean, take your jacket off.”

Dean looked up from taking a bite of his sandwich. He grinned. “If you want me out of my clothes you just have to ask, Cas.”

Cas rolled his eyes. Ever since they had upgraded their relationship from friends to boyfriends, Dean had been incorrigible, and while Cas actually found it weirdly charming, he refused to let that show. “I’m serious, Dean, I have something for your jacket, just hand it over.”

Dean sighed and wiggled out of his jacket, somehow without setting his sandwich down in the process, and held it out for Cas to take. Cas muttered a quiet thanks and carefully placed the patch on the right shoulder of the jacket before starting to sew. Dean went back to eating but watched him curiously.

“What is it?”

“Pentagram patch.” Cas continued sewing, “I found it at one of the stores that I go to. Pentagrams are supposed to be protection, right? So, I thought…”

Dean’s chewing slowed and he swallowed the bite of food in his mouth. “Cas…”

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Cas explained, as if it wasn’t obvious. Blue eyes were still on his work as he sewed, but he could feel Dean’s gaze on him. “I mean—it might not be much, but I’m not a witch or anything, I can’t cast protection spells, this is all I can do. I can sew. So, I…” There was silence from the other boy until Cas was finished and knotted the thread, snapping it off before returning his sewing supplies to his bag and holding the jacket back out for Dean, not quite meeting his eyes. “Here. I hope you don’t mind.”

Dean took the jacket, but just set it aside and reached to grasp Cas’s wrist, tugging him closer. He leaned in to bump their foreheads together gently, then gave Cas a kiss. “You care about me.” He accused, just teasing, then; “thank you.”

“Of course I care about you.” Cas offered a little smile, embarrassed. “You’re welcome.”

The rest of lunch hour was filled with soft murmurs and peanut butter and jelly flavored kisses, all under the protection of the bleachers and a freshly minted pentagram patch.

-- --

The following weekend, on the Saturday, Cas was invited to the motel for a Research Day. Which, admittedly, did not sound like all that much fun. But spending time with Dean was always nice, and maybe he could even get some kisses out of the deal, so Cas agreed and, with some trial and tribulation, found his way to the Seafoam Motel downtown on Saturday morning with some help from google.

He and Dean had exchanged phone numbers a few days before just in case he needed to call with help with directions. Cas had questioned Dean’s beat-up old flip phone—the thing had to be twenty years old—and Dean had gotten minorly defensive. It seemed he was a bit of a technophobe, at least to a certain extent. Cas actually found it endearing.

Now he was standing in front of the Seafoam Motel, a dingy building with everything painted an off-putting (of course) seafoam green, which had obviously seen better days. But from what Dean had told him, it was pretty normal for the motels they stayed at: nondescript, cheap, discrete, with good locks on the doors. It made sense, if half of what Dean had told him about a Hunter’s lifestyle was true.

Cas pulled out his cell and called Dean’s number. When Dean answered, he didn’t even bother with ‘hello’, just asked, “which room are you in?”

Dean laughed, “eleven,” and immediately hung up.

When he knocked on the door to the room he’d been directed to, there was a long pause before the locks all clicked open and Dean pulled the door inward with a grin. “Hey!” He stepped aside so Cas could come in, “Sammy’s at the library so it’s just us for now.”

“I brought my laptop.” Cas nodded to his backpack, where he had stuffed his laptop, along with the charger, a couple of notebooks and his pencil case. “I thought we might need it.”

“Yeah, Sammy took his with him, so that’s great.” Dean closed the door behind them and stood there for a minute before announcing, “and that concludes the tour!”

Cas chuckled softly.

The room wasn’t large, but it wasn’t exactly small, either. It had two double beds, a small dresser with a TV sitting on top of it, a kitchenette with a wobbly looking table and a couple of chairs, and another door which Cas assumed lead to the bathroom. It wasn’t much, but he figured it had everything they needed. Dean and Sam were probably stepping all over each other, though, cooped up in there as they were.

“Do you two actually cook in here?” Cas asked.

“Are you kidding? We live on take-out.” Dean scoffed, then, “do you cook?”

“I can burn water, according to my Father.” Cas blinked at him, “why do you think I always bring peanut butter and jelly for lunch? It’s the only thing I can make.”

Dean laughed while Cas shrugged out of his backpack and set it on the table (which only wobbled a little, to its’ credit), pulling his laptop out—and he was just setting it down next to the backpack when Dean’s arms slid around him from behind, winding around his waist and holding him tightly. Cas uttered a soft surprised noise, but Dean was already kissing at the crook of his neck and—oh. Yeah, that felt pretty nice, actually.

Dean let go of his waist to grab hold of one of his hands and tugged him over toward one of the beds—presumably Dean’s—where he sat down and patted the spot beside him until Cas muffled a laugh and sat as well. “You’re terrible.”

“And you’re really damn tempting.”

“Dean,” The other boy was already leaning to kiss by Cas’s jaw, and Cas sighed quietly. “we’ve been together for about ten minutes. You’re being ridiculous.” But Dean ignored him, continued kissing along Cas’s jaw until a smile began to tug at the younger boy’s lips… and he finally turned his head to meet the next kiss with one of his own. “I hate you.” He mumbled against Dean’s mouth.

“You do not.” Dean mumbled back, grinning, and kissed him again.

Ten minutes later and the next thing Cas knew he was on his back with Dean pressed down overtop of him and they were making out like it was the end of days and they would never get a chance to do it again. They had made out before a couple of times, under the bleachers at school, but this was different.

Dean was half-propped up on one arm against the mattress, kissing Cas deep and firm and hot, his knee pushed up between Cas’s legs and grinding there slightly—and Cas was just going with it, because it felt really freaking good, his entire body thrumming with electric pleasure as he dragged his hands along Dean’s back.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit it or not, because Dean would probably think he was pathetic, being new to all this at his age, but he had never done anything like this before—but then again, it wasn’t like his reactions weren’t giving him away, anyway, squirming and rocking under the other boy like he was a virgin. Which he was, but still. And then Dean’s free hand slid up under his shirt, feeling along his side to his abdomen, making Cas arch into the feeling and—

“DEAN! Oh my God gross! You know Dad’s gonna murder you for bringing a girl here righ—”

Dean practically jerked away from him when the new voice piped up from the doorway, leaving Cas to collect himself before sitting up carefully, hair and clothes mussed, to look over. The door was open and a kid no older than twelve or thirteen was standing there, backpack slung over his shoulder and gaping at the sight in front of him. This had to be Sam. Couldn’t be anyone else. Cas swallowed and licked his lips before lifting a hand in a pathetic half-wave. “Uh. Hi.”

“You’re not a girl.” Sam stated, sounding a weird combination of baffled and impressed. He looked at Dean. “And before you try telling me you’re just friends, you should probably put your hard-on away, dude.”

Dean sputtered and demanded, “there is such a thing as liking both, you know!”

“Oh, I know that.” Sam shrugged, “just didn’t think you did.” Then; “Dad’s still gonna kill you.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair and gave a pointed glare. “Not if he doesn’t know about it, Sam.”

“Ooooh, do I have one over you, here?” The grin that split Sam’s face was downright diabolical. “You are going to owe me for this.”

Dean muttered under his breath but finally agreed. “Fine. Deal. Just keep your trap shut about it, okay?”

Sam shrugged again, a seeming acceptance of the terms, and flung his backpack onto the second bed, then plopped down next to it to look Cas over. He had the same kind of analytical way of looking through a person as his older brother did, and Cas found himself shifting uncomfortably after a minute. Dean, meanwhile, announced that he was going for sodas and left the room entirely, probably just to get some air. Finally, Cas cleared his throat and nodded toward Sam’s shirt, where one of the pockets of his flannel was torn.

“What happened there?”

Sam blinked, surprised, and glanced down at his shirt. “Oh. New Kid hazing. You know how it is.”

Cas nodded. He did know how it was; he remembered the basketball incident his first day, the one that had introduced him to Dean. “I can fix it for you.” He offered and reached for his own backpack where it had been tossed on the floor, then opened it to fish out a spool of thread and a needle. “I always have this stuff on me, just in case. Give me your shirt and I’ll sew it up.”

When Sam looked skeptical, Cas flipped his bag around to show off the collection of patches that were sewn across the front. “I did them all myself. I’m actually pretty good at sewing. This one is my favorite.” He tapped one finger against the pair of black wings in the top center of the backpack. “Like angel wings, right?”

After another moment of hesitation, Sam shrugged out of his flannel and handed it over. Cas smiled and immediately got to work. When Dean came back a few minutes later Cas was deep into sewing the tear in Sam’s shirt and barely acknowledged him when he came in the door. Dean tossed a can of soda over to his brother and nodded toward Cas, “what’s going on here?”

“He’s fixing my shirt.” Sam offered with a blink.

“Oh, yeah, he does that.” Dean set another soda down on the bed next to where Cas was just finishing tying the thread off and snapping it with his teeth, then crossed over to perch on the edge of the kitchenette table. When he was done, Cas smiled down at his work, then tossed the shirt back to Sam, who made a kind of hmm face at him before muttering a thanks around the rim of his drink. Cas sat back, hand bumping into the soda that was sitting next to him, and picked it up to open it with a little thanks of his own. Dean just smiled at him from his position safely behind Sam’s back.

“I have two questions.” Sam announced finally, as if he couldn’t stand the silence.

Cas’s eyebrows rose a little. “Mm?”

“Okay, first, what’s your freaking name, dude, I mean really? I walk in on you and my brother—uh. Doing things—I don’t even want to know what—and you never even introduced yourself?” The younger boy sounded exasperated.

“If by walked in on you mean interrupted.” Dean groused.

Cas nearly choked on his cola, but Sam had a point, there, so once he’d coughed a couple of times, he waved one hand placatingly. “Castiel. I’m Castiel. But just Cas for short is fine.”

“Nice to meet you, Cas.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Sam.” And then; “what’s your second question?”

Sam’s eyebrows lifted and his eyes flicked to Cas’s backpack. “Why are your angel wings black? Shouldn’t they be white?”

“That’s two questions.” Dean pointed out. Sam gave him a flat look.

That was actually a good question, though. Cas smiled to himself almost absently as he considered his answer, one finger tapping against the can in his hands. “I think… angels are God’s warriors, right? That’s how they’re portrayed in the bible a lot of the time. I mean they’re also portrayed as loving and forgiving and graceful, too, but… anyway. I think to be the kind of warrior that God calls upon you would need to get your hands dirty. I think angels probably aren’t the pure, sinless beings that everyone paints them to be. If that makes sense.” He tilted his head slightly, “hence the black wings.”

Sam frowned a little in thought before admitting, “that’s an interesting theory.”

Behind him, Dean just rolled his eyes. “It’s all bullshit. Angels aren’t real. Ghosts are real. Chupacabras are real. We Hunt all kinds of things. But angels? Not so much.”

Sam’s head whipped around, and he stared hard at his brother. “Dean, does he know?!”

“Uh.”

“You told him!”

“I—wh—I mea—” Dean hedged with half-words for a moment, then set his can of soda down and gave Sam a firm look; “we got ambushed by a vampire on the way home from school the other day and I just—what was I supposed to do? Cas saw everything and deserved answers!”

“It’s the big rule, Dean!”

“I know! You think I don’t know?!”

“Was this before or after you started making out with him?” Sam demanded, and when Dean gave him a look, he informed; “just trying to figure out your state of mind, that’s all!”

Dean grumbled but allowed it. “Before.”

Sam continued staring hard at Dean, Dean staring right back, neither of them blinking—until Cas interrupted their little stand off, shifting in his seat, to offer, “I understand how important what Dean told me is. Why it’s all a secret. Telling people could get you hurt, right? But I promise, Sam, I’ll never tell another soul. I care about your brother too much to put him—or you—in danger like that.”

Sam turned back around to face Cas again. “You care about him?”

“Yes. Of course.” Cas nodded, then added, “I don’t kiss people I don’t care for.”

Dean snorted softly and muttered, “oh, please, I was your first kiss and we both know it.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Cas asked with just the faintest flush.

A little, quirk of a smile tugged at Sam’s lips. He heaved a sigh. “Okay, I mean, the cat’s already out of the bag. All we can do is trust you, right?” He looked back at Dean again; “what are you going to tell Dad?”

“Nothing. For now, anyway. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt me.” Dean gestured toward Sam, “don’t you tell him.”

Sam held his hands up placatingly, “I already said I wouldn’t.” And then, “but you still owe me.”

“What does he owe you?” Cas questioned curiously.

“Mmm. A favor.” Sam’s reply was contemplative. “To be determined.”

“I hate this.” Dean muttered.

“You should.” Sam confirmed with a little grin. Then he turned his attention back to Cas to ask, “anyway, what are you even doing here? Aside from the obvious.” A quick glance toward the table, “you brought your laptop, so…”

Cas shifted slightly and ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sure it wasn’t still mussed all to hell. “Dean wanted me to come over and help with research, about whatever’s going on at the school.”

“Research…” The younger teen drawled, “riiiiight.”

Dean made the motion of smacking Sam up the back of the head but didn’t actually do it. Cas laughed. “You were at the library and things just… happened.” He, at least, had the decency to look embarrassed, “but now that you’re back we really can do some research if you want. Though honestly, I’m not really sure what I’m looking for. Dean said something about dried up bodies?”

Sam hesitated just slightly before nodding and adding, “and cocoons. We’ve had at least one cocoon.”

“Cocoon.” Cas stated almost blankly.

“Yeah, cocoon.” Dean sighed and set his can of soda down, heading over to sit down next to Cas again, “look, you don’t have to be here. You can just go. You don’t have to have anything to do with this.”

But Cas shook his head, “no, I…” He frowned. “I want to help. I can’t know about these things and just do nothing.” He wasn’t a Hunter himself, but the least he could do was help with a little research. That couldn’t hurt, right? He stood up and crossed the room to grab his laptop. “So, lets’ get started. What’s the wifi password here?”

Sam looked at Cas for a long moment before glancing toward Dean and saying, “I like him.”

Dean just regarded his new boyfriend fondly. “Yeah, so do I.”

-- --

The three of them hung out and did research for a couple of hours, then Dean left to go get lunch and bring it back. Lunch turned out to be cheeseburgers, which Sam did not seem surprised or particularly plussed by. He ate the food anyway with only the briefest of complaints about all the grease.

While they were eating they talked some more, just about school and other bland topics, and Cas and Sam exchanged phone numbers. Once they were done, they went back to work, until Cas had to pack up and leave around four to walk home—so he would be home in time for dinner and his father wouldn’t worry about him.

Dean pulled him into a couple of little, lingering kisses at the door before he disappeared, and Sam watched the whole display with sharp eyes, taking it all in. He had never seen his big brother act this way before. It was… different. Not bad, necessarily, just not the norm.

“What?” Dean demanded as he closed the door behind Cas and went about locking it. He could feel Sam’s eyes on him even with his back to the younger boy.

Sam looked back down at the book in his hands. “Nothing. I just like your boyfriend, that’s all.”

Dean sputtered and tried to protest, “no, it’s not like that, Sammy, Cas and I are just—”

“Fuck buddies?” Sam suggested without looking up from his book.

“Who taught you that?!” Dean demanded, then waved his hands dismissively and began pacing up and down the room restlessly, “we’re not having sex, Sam!”

“Sure looked like that was the direction you were headed earlier.”

“You are taking that completely out of context!”

“You were on top of him and had your hands up his shirt.” Sam glanced up with a raised eyebrow. “And then you made eyes at each other the entire rest of the time he was here. Like the whole time.”

“We did not!”

“Dude, seriously, Dad is going to murder you if he finds out.”

Dean stopped and pointed a finger at him. “You promised you wouldn’t tell him!”

“Oh, so now there’s something to tell?” Sam smirked—then finally took pity on his older brother. Sort of. He closed his book and chucked it at Dean, but at the same time informed him; “I won’t say anything. I did promise, and besides, I do like Cas. He’s nice. You could do worse.”

Dean swatted the book out of the air and flailed his hand a little before regarding Sam suspiciously. “Really?”

“Believe it or not, Dean, I do not thrive on your misery. Besides, you know how I feel about most of Dad’s rules.”

There was a brief pause before Dean said softly, “thanks, Sammy.”

Sam tilted his head a little, curiously, “you really like him, don’t you? I mean more than the girls you’ve been with before.”

“I… yeah.” Dean agreed, almost embarrassed now; “the girls were just sex. Cas is… different.”

“Well, he’s a dude, first off.”

“No! I mean—yeah, obviously, but that’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

Dean was standing there, so obviously flustered over the entire thing that Sam finally just sighed. “I get it.” He said softly, “you like him, capital L ‘like.’ It’s like your first real crush that isn’t on a celebrity, it’s a big deal.”

“It’s not a crush, it’s…”

“I know, I know. I told you, I get it, Dean. You’re allowed to like someone, and who cares if it’s a guy?”

Dean stared at him for a few seconds before dismissing embarrassedly, “you’re thirteen, what do you know?”

Sam gave him a knowing little smile. “Apparently more than you.”

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #destiel #destiel fanfiction #spn #shut up sena #sena writes #horror high by senashenta

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