#i did go “discipline huh” the entire game yeah

[ratatatastic]

paul this morning

versus your 2425 florida pantrs when faced with the prospect of not embarrassing paulson for a whole 60 minutes after he praises them

[sukiglycerin]

birds (not) of a feather || keigo takami.

* pairing: hawks x fem pro-hero!reader

* genre: canonverse(???), terribly indulgent smut, pwp, enemies w benefits

* words: 3,111

* warnings: i just packed a shitload of kinks into this, dom!hawks, sub!reader, daddy kink, dirty talk, semi-public sex (a bathroom), quirk play aka feather play (not tickling), reader is kiNda a brat, fingering, orgasm denial, cum eating, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (pls.,., wrap it before you tap it irl), degradation, breeding kink, humiliation, dumbification, creampie, aftercare (duh), i’m so sorry for this i’ll finish my sfw angst thing now

* a/n: inspired by this text post... oh god, this is filthy. apologies for the slightly late update, but here it finally is!! @toishi is an absolute angel for proofreading this at like 1 in the morning. i hope you enjoy this! if you liked this, feel free to request anything you’d like to see from me <3

there was something about hawks that was infuriating. you couldn't tell exactly what was the breaking point; his messy hair, his plush smirk, or his eyes. his eyes, typically glazed over with a mixture of cockiness and devil-may-care hawtiness, were perhaps the most charming part to him, if you asked any fangirl. the markings around them only made him prettier, but infuriatingly so; and when you put together the entire package of 'hawks,' you got an extremely punchable person. 

yet sometimes, during extremely rare instances - perhaps when the light hits him just right or when one of his feathers is placed just perfectly - the word 'punchable' is replaced with 'fuckable.' and when you say fuckable, you mean him fucking you. it only aggravates you more.

you can't recall exactly when you started hating him or exactly when you became fuckbuddies (well, more like fuckenemies), but what you can recall is that the closets at hawks' agency are unreasonably large. not that they can't be used to your advantage, on multiple occasions (especially when hawks ruts). you're sitting next to hawks as some entrepreneur attempts to sell his ideas to market heroes and gain more profit. none of the pro-heroes sitting in the room seem particularly engaged. you're practically falling asleep; hawks' doodles on your notepad keeping you awake. you can't exactly complain, though the doodles take up space on an otherwise blank page, it's entertaining. you're far past gone being alert, however; your eyelids droop one last time before you see an oddly phallic shaped doodle behind your eyelashes. goddamn hawks.

"really?" you hiss at him, pushing his hand away.

he shrugged, lazily smiling. "you like it."

"like what? lewd imagery in my work notepad?"

"no." his voice drops an octave, fatally gravelly, "my cock."

you flush at his obscene language. "don't-" you whisper, but you're cut off by hawks' muffled giggles as he points to another one of his doodles. a rooster. you purse your lips. ever-so immature, hawks.

"yeah, but i bet you like the first one a lot more, don'tcha, chickadee?" his pet name has your brain stuttering. "you like my cock so much, hm?"

"fuck you, hawks," you breathe.

"you can try, feather." his voice is dripping with cockiness. "i bet, even in professional times like these, you think about my cock. in business meetings, you look so professional, so serious, but little does everyone know - you're dreaming about my cock stretching your tight little cunt out, making you scream my goddamn name. i bet you salivate just thinking about my cock fucking you good, hm? isn't that right, chickadee?"

you huff, not meeting his eyes as you search for a witty comeback. your silence gives hawks' ego a boost; he smirks wider.

"you know it's true, huh?" he purrs. "you think of me wherever you go. in public, filing paperwork, when you touch yourself in bed... you just like it so much, you're my slut. who knew the nation's favorite pro-hero would drop to her knees to the sight of anyone's cock?"

"yeah, i touch myself whenever i think of you," you mutter saltily under your breath. you ignore the growing arousal in your panties at his provocative words. hawks goes quiet, eyes wide.

"more specifically, i rub my temples because i get a headache because you're so damn awful."

"well fuck, dove," he chuckles. he leans in close to your ear. "maybe i'll give you something to think about."

a shiver curls itself down your spine. "hawks-"

he hushes you, jotting something in your notepad. he excuses himself from the room, leaving a feather laying on his seat in place of him. you read the note. "women's bathroom, down the hall to the left. no one uses it."

a pump of adrenaline fills you; your heart skips a beat.

once you slip out, your heart plays a game of jump rope, the rhythm filling your ears. down the hall, to the left... you wonder what hawks has in store for you. your brain recreates images of past escapades you engaged in with the man; a quickie in his office, another in an alley, and once, him fucking you just before a meeting. your panties grow damper, unable to mask the anticipation you feel within yourself.

"hi, sweetpea," hawks cooes as soon as you enter the restroom. "fancy seeing you here."

"you invited-"

"hush, i didn't give you permission to speak, did i?" he snaps. "good girls who behave are rewarded."

a whimper slips out of you, and you nod.

"safeword, birdie?"

"sunflower."

"good girl." he hums. "so obedient, once disciplined... maybe i should do this more. i bet you'd like that... being such a slut when anyone could walk in." "hawks..." you start, but he doesn't have it.

the hero stalks toward you. if eyes could kill, you'd be murdered within seconds; his irises are dark, pupils blown, and a shadow has fallen over his face. he looks predatory like this - truly living up to his name. it's graceful, the self-control he assumes whence walking toward you. 

said self-control is completely abandoned as soon as your bodies meet. you're completely enraptured in his shadow as the man loomed over you, his wings contributing greatly to the effect. he's the predator, and you're the prey. 

his arm separates your neck from the wall, his hand clutching the back of your head. the free hand moves itself to caress your jaw in a strangely gentle manner, while his knee pushes its way in between your legs, making your upper thighs into a home. his hand nudges your head forward towards his, and then you're kissing him with such ferocity it's animalistic. tongues clash and you're no longer sure whose spit is whose; it dribbles down your chin the way blood drips from the thirsty lips of a vampire.

hawks growls - he actually growls - while he hastily unbuttons your top and slips his tongue into your mouth. you shamelessly grind down against his clothed pant leg, careless that your wetness will leave a stain. 

he pulls away, a string of saliva snapping between you and leaving you two gasping for breath. 

"fuck, fuck, baby bird," hawks wipes his mouth with his sleeve. his lips are swollen, their colour resembling a cherry lollipop with a sheen of gloss. damn, he's pretty. you never realized how good-looking a guy in a suit could be. his eyes are darker than a raven's, and it looks as though he'll devour you whole. 

"come." hawks gestures for you, walking towards the sinks and large mirror above them. as soon as you near a foot from hawks, he grabs you, one hand on your waist and the other on your throat. 

"look at you..." he tsks, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. you're completely disheveled, hair a mess and eyes blown dark. your top is wrinkled slightly, your breasts peaking out through the unbuttoned gap and your skirt pushed up.

"so messy already..." the hand on your waist moves up and squeezes your breast, tweaking a nipple through your bra.

"you just fucking melt for me, like a good whore," he says.

oh, how you hate how easily hawks can win you over.

"fuck you," you scoff half-heartedly. "are you gonna fuck me, or not? we don't have all day."

"won't be a problem, lovebird," he says breezily. "judging by how much you fucking soaked my pant leg, i could have you coming undone without my cock even touching your dirty cunt.

you glance at his thigh, which has a blatant dark spot on it, and feel your heart race in humiliation. you can only stay silent, knowing he's right. the sensation in your core is painfully obvious to you, as if taunting you more.

"obeying now?" he teases, a wicked smile gracing his face. "bend over the counter, sweetpea."

you huff, obliging. hawks deftly moves his fingers, unbuttoning your shirt. you shiver, your hot skin colliding with the cold, unforgiving marble. 

"spread your legs - good, good, like that..." his breath tickles your ear, "you like how the air touches your sopping pussy? how exposed you fucking feel, all spread out for me when anyone could walk in? me, the number 2 pro-hero..." god, he was so cocky it was infuriating.

"shut up," you grumble.

"what?" his voice is sharp, cutting clean through the air. "is that anyway to treat your daddy?"

you fucking hate the title. you hate how hawks harnesses it as his own, how he so personifies the word - how good it fits him, sounding like sugar off his lips.

two of his fingers meet your clothed folds. "answer me, birdie."

"n-no," you squeak out. 

"no, who?" he spits.

"no, daddy." 

you inch your head up to look in the mirror, and hawks is smiling. 

"what to do with you, what to do with you..." he sounds gleeful, sadistic undertones tinting his words with a faded rose red. so pretty, yet so painful. your head goes back down onto the counter, your cheek pressed against it.

"naughty birds deserve punishment, don'tcha think?" 

you can't find it in yourself to form a coherent word; instead, a clumsy moan falls from your lips. hawks' fingers press harder against your cunt; you're sure they've gotten at least a little damp.

compromised in such a position, your senses make you suddenly aware of your surroundings; the way the counter digs into your hips, how the coolness is starting to fade under your body. you're aware of your every breath, the fluttering in your stomach every time hawks presses your clit. you're aware of the inherent eroticism of your acts, and how you don't really hate hawks; no, no, no - how he just infuriates you.

he's the ideal hero, in your eyes - laidback, charming, and yet so skilled at his work. it amazes you. one can only strive to be so multifaceted, and it explains his status as number 2 hero. you work so hard, yet he can achieve all the things you dream in half a heartbeat.

"let's get these out of the way." hawks, hooking a digit into the band of your panties, forces them down in an instant. you instinctively clench at the air which meets your nether lips, your juices leaking out of them like a honeyed nectar.

"so messy," hawks comments. "can't even control yourself without your panties. you like being such a slut for daddy, huh?"

you grumble in protest.

"huh?" his index and ring finger plunge into your pussy, making a loud squelching sound.

"d-daddy," you blurt a moan out, falling apart on his fingers.

"that's more like it, feather." hawks sets a moderate pace on your pussy, curling to hit your sweet spot. the noises from your cunt and mouth fail to cease, and you throw a hand over the latter to muffle your whimpers.

you start to feel a burning sensation rise in your stomach; a toe-curling, warm feeling like sunlight shining in the morning.

"daddy, daddy, hngg- i'm so close."

you're so close to the sunlight, to being showered in the blissful heat. just one more stroke and-

you're suddenly empty, and the light starts to slowly recede.

"daddy!" you complain, shifting your legs and rubbing your thighs together. "bad birds get punishment," he shrugs. "though i must say... you like it when i bend you over the counter, huh? your little pussy is dripping all over it for me, and i've barely touched you... i bet you're getting off to this right now; when anyone could walk in, huh? filthy slut. you're already begging for more... hm, maybe i should make you lick up the mess you've made..."

"d-addy, no, i've taken my punishment, please let me cum..."

hawks sounded indifferent, as if he were merely studying his nails. "beg for it."

"wh-" you clench your hands in your skirt. you do not particularly enjoy begging - for anything or anyone. despite the pulsing in your cunt, and how hard it is not to give in, you don't want to give hawks the satisfaction of winning. "p-psh, didn't really need your cock anyway..." you grumble. you exhale quietly, calming the adrenaline pumping in your blood from the loss of your orgasm.

something in him changes, and a scarlet feather tickles your lips. you're confused; what does hawks want you to do?

"suck."

you exhale in confusion, blowing the feather away. "suck?"

you crane your neck up at the mirror to catch a glimpse of hawks. he looks deadly - there's no other way to put it. his eyes are sharply trained on you, his wings buff and towering over him. you think you see a bulge in his pants, straining for freedom.

"well?" the feather dusts your lips once again, teasing you to trap it in between your lips. your head drops, falling against the counter. you open your mouth, and the tip of the feather rests on your tongue. your lips close around it, and you hesitantly suck. you're not sure what you were expecting; it's a feather, soft and flimsy in your mouth.

you jolt at an indistinct tickling feeling against your clit. you look back, feather hanging out of your mouth, to see hawks leaning back on a stall. he's not within reach to touch you, so...

"hng!" the foreign object presses your clit. the pressure strengthens against your tight bundle of nerves, and you can feel your slick drip out of you even more. a feather; though hawks made the consistency a bit more solid. the feather pushes against your pussy like a seesaw, making you reach for your high. you shut your eyes tight, lost in the feeling and desperate for release. the feather drags up and down your cunt, eliciting lewd noises, while your lips are clamped shut around the feather in your mouth. saliva pools in your mouth the more the feather teases your wet sex, and the familiar build of tension starts in your stomach. you yearn for the heat returned in full, to be so fulfilled in pleasure, and you rut against the feather in an attempt to reach your climax faster. the stimulation is suddenly gone, leaving you crying out.

"look at this," hawks sneers. a single, wet feather, dripping in a substance far thicker than water hovers in front of you. "open your mouth."

the feather slips out, and is replaced with a salty tasting one.

the taste of your arousal fills your tongue, and before you're given time to dwell on it, you feel warmth pressing against the back of your thighs. there's a clanking of metal, a shuffle of fabric, and you feel the tip of hawks' cock pressing against you.

"look at you, baby, so desperate for a fuckin' feather," he rasps in your ear. "should i show you how much better my cock is? hmm?"

you nod dumbly, the feather bobbing with you. 

"fuck," he groans, pushing himself into your depths. "so wet, so- slick- goddamn baby bird, you like it when i stuff you full of this cock?"

you hum a noise against the feather in your mouth, agreeing. he slipped into your pussy smoothly, lubricated by the abundance of your slick. once in, snuggled in deep, something in the man's composure snaps; he thrusts mercilessly, pounding deep in you. his fingers hold your hips, bruising them, you're sure - and the pain is sweet, a sick lolly against your tongue. 

"fuck, fuck, daddy's gonna fuck his babies into you, betcha'd like that, huh?"  you can't articulate your words properly with the feather in your mouth, but you attempt to agree. he doesn't care, continuing with his degradation.

"you're gonna give me my chicks, huh? be my bitch," he pants heavily. god, you can just imagine how he looks; hair falling onto his sweat-matted forehead, his eyes completely lascivious. a wanton moan spills from your mouth, and the feather falls, but hawks doesn't make notice of this. he continues to slam into you, pace unforgiving, burying himself to the hilt inside of you. squelching noises fill the bathroom, echoing off the walls.

you can only moan and clench around him unintelligently. 

"look at you... all fuckin' stupid and obedient, all for daddy, hm? so willing to let daddy use you as a cumdump, daddy's personal- fucking- cumslut- but you like that, huh? your pretty pussy's clenching around me. you like being talked down to, don'tcha? such a dirty slut. look at that, you're drooling."

two of hawks' fingers shove themselves into your mouth, and you salivate around them. it's messy, you know, and spit trails down your chin.

"look at me, chickadee," he commands. you crane your neck to look at him, eyes wide. "fuck, so slutty," he grunts. "you really like this, don't you? fuck- exposing your fucking cunt to every guy, huh? being used as nothing but a filthy fucktoy?"

you shake your head rapidly in disagreement, cheeks heating up. 

"no?" he chuckles darkly. "just my fucktoy, then?"

you reluctantly nod. 

"my stupid lil baby... so pretty with daddy's fingers shoved in her mouth..." he coos, and a surprising, fuzzy feeling emerges from the praise.

his unoccupied hand reaches down in between your thighs to stimulate your clit, rubbing fast circles against the bud. warmth pools and ties a knot in your stomach. the sugared indulgence of release that you'd so craved comes into view; the knot tightening and tightening and you feel fit to burst.

"c-cum for me, baby bird, cum for me, y/n," he stutters, making a guttural sound in the back of his throat. the fingers in your mouth pull out, falling onto your hips. the tight knot bursts into violent fireworks of ecstasy; your cunt gushes around hawks' cock, convulsing madly. the pleasure shatters you, and everything becomes a haze. you go limp against the counter, thighs shaking. you're not sure how much time has passed - hawks had been fucking you through orgasm, and, at one point, came as well.

"hey, feather," he whispers gently to you. "you did so well for me..." he strokes your back, making a plethora of calming coos and humming sounds

"did so well," you mumble. 

"don't worry about anything, dove, i've got it all handled."

your thoughts are all fog, and you allow yourself to lean into hawks. this is one of the rare times you're vulnerable completely to him; at his mercy, after a particularly hard session. rather, it's one of the rare moments that your true feelings are revealed; how your hatred is baseless, built on jealousy and attraction you deny.

not that you'll admit it.

[softcallofdutyimagines]

More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 7 - Finale

Summary:

It all comes down to this. Will Frank be able to make things right?

Tags: Slow burn, fluff, age difference, angst

Tag requests: @direwolfspostsrandomshit

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 3 | Chpt 4 | Chpt 5 | Chpt 6 Warnings: strong language, age difference, and references to depression like symptoms and past childhood trauma

Another hour passes. Another beer down.

The television drones on in the background while he stares right through it. Why is he even watching this? He hates TV.

He should be training today, maybe the gym or the firing range, but… He just doesn’t feel like it.

His stomach growls. He looks at the clock. He should get something to eat, but… He doesn’t feel like that either.

At last the cramping moves him to action, and sluggishly he gets up and wanders to the kitchen. He grabs his go-to as of late, a bag of chocolate chips for baking. His diet’s been such shit lately, and he knows it’s not helping. He hates that. And he loves it. Because right now he’ll do anything just to get even a flicker of feeling.

Good. Bad. He doesn’t care.

He just wants to feel.

It’s been a couple weeks since he last saw you, out back behind the CIA gym, and he’s been numb ever since. Mason’s been trying to bring him out of it all this time.

‘You did the right thing’, he says. ‘She’s just a kid, she doesn’t know what she’s doing’, and then, ‘If anything, you did her a favor. She doesn’t really want to get caught up like that with an old guy, right?’, he laughs.

He eats another handful of chocolate and looks down at himself. ‘She doesn’t want to...’ Is he really that repulsive? He runs a hand over his belly. It’s been feeling more rounded than usual.

Fuck.

For a moment, that same old burning, consuming flare of fury he’s so used to getting rises up. He grips the plastic bag so tightly, his knuckles turn white.

His discipline has been getting looser and his belt has been getting tighter, the polar fucking opposite of how things should be. His nostrils flare and lips draw back to reveal tightly clenched teeth, like a dog readying for an attack. Every muscle in his body tenses as he bores holes into nothing in particular. He starts to cock his arm back.

Throwing something will help him feel better.

Right?

He aims for the wall and winds up for an all star pitch, and then…

and then…

He can’t even muster the motivation for that.

As quickly as it came, the anger leaves, and as he lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his entire body relaxes once more. What the fuck is wrong with him anyway?

What, mommy and daddy didn’t love him enough, so now he throws little tantrums whenever the fuck he feels like it? He mocks himself, feeling almost ashamed suddenly of all his outbursts, but when he thinks about it…

Yeah.

Maybe that...

He sighs, suddenly feeling extremely defeated and very alone. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised you left him. Everyone else who ever loved him did.

Woods drops the bag of chocolate from his limply hanging arm and watches the pieces scatter and roll all over the floor.

Whatever. He’ll eat something else.

This is how it’s been for weeks and this how it’ll be for the foreseeable future. He lazes around, completely numb to the outside world, grazing his pantry and doing anything to distract himself from his thoughts. If only any of it worked. Then at night he’ll lay awake well past midnight, until either regular exhaustion or exertion from shedding tears sends him to sleep.

But it wasn’t always like this.

After the first few days since he chased you off, he tried to make up for it.

He called.

He tried to see you at work.

He even sent you some fucking flowers and a letter.

Not a word back.

Well, aside from the ‘Get the fuck out of here, and don’t you fucking dare come back’ he got when he came to your office. After that one…

He hasn’t cried that hard over a woman in… Well… Ever.

And that’s what really gets to him, isn’t it? Just a woman. You’re just a fucking woman. There’s billions of others out there… And yet, he can’t manage to land even one, can he?

This message plays back in his mind over, and over, and over again.

Even now, as a slow stream of tears leak from his eyes to his pillowcase. He looks over just a few inches away to the empty half of his bed. Frank sniffs and swipes at his nose before gently plopping his hand on the pillow beside his. The fabric is icy cold against his skin.

You know, Alex told him once that he’ll lay in his wife's spot on the bed to warm up the sheets for her at night.

She hates the cold, and Alaskan nights are no joke. Would you like that? He wonders. He heard once that women are always fucking cold. He’d warm up your sheets for you, you know. Or maybe, you’d like a blanket? He’d get you one. A nice one! Fresh and new, not any of the tattered shit he keeps in his linen closet.

Or, maybe, you’d like it more if he just… Held you? He could keep you warm all by himself if you wanted him to. Would you even like him to?

Would that make you happy?

Would he make you happy?

A fresh round of tears breaks over him.

He closes his eyes and curls in on himself as he lets the sobs take over him. Damn it, he promised himself he wouldn’t do this again… He thinks about you far too much. All the time, really. And where does it get him? Somewhere about like he is now, he supposes.

He stews in his own wretchedness like this for quite some time, and it’s not until a few days later that anything changes.

Mason pounds on the door of the dingy little house, “Frank?”, he calls, “Frank, open up you bastard, I know you’re in there!”

Truthfully, he’s only in town on some work related business, but… He can’t just stand by and let his friend suffer like this.

So, he waits and waits, and pounds and pounds until he's sure the door is about to come off the hinges. Mason cups his hands to the crack of the door, shouting into it as loud as he dare, “I’m not leaving until you come out here asshole!”

At last, a quiet voice comes from the other side, “What do you want?”

For a moment, Mason is rather dumbfounded. Never before has he ever heard his friend sound so soulless. So… broken. He shakes his head, and pulls himself out of it, “Frank will you open up? I’m here to check on you man!”

Woods sighs, “Don’t waste your time”, the voice trails off as though he’s walking away.

“Hey!”, Mason pounds on the door again, “Son of a bitch, get back here!”

The door swings open abruptly, and Mason nearly falls over as the door’s taken out from him. He stumbles a moment, then catches himself as he stands up straight.

Mason locks eyes with his old friend, and Woods says nothing. Alex takes in the sight of him. His stubble is out of control, the bags under his eyes are dark and purple, and the undershirt he’s wearing could’ve used a wash about a week ago.

“Jesus…You look like shit”

“Thanks”, Woods replies flatly, “Now go away”

He makes to close the door, but Mason stops him, “Wait wait wait… Ok, I’m sorry, I just… Wow, um… Can I come in at least? Let’s talk about this”, Alex motions to Woods in his entirety.

“Do I have a choice?”

Mason pushes the door all the way open, letting himself in and taking his friend by the shoulders as he leads him further into the house, “No, we’re having a fucking intervention”

He leads him to the living room and clears a pile of clothes and trash off the cushions so they can sit down. Alex commands his friend to take a seat, then follows suit. Once they’re both settled, Mason grows serious but maintains a cautious, sympathetic veneer.

Mason rubs his hands together and gives it to him straight, “Look, I know you feel like you fucked up. I know you’re feeling lonely and it’s got you in the dumps. But… Come on man, look what’s been going on with you!”, He gestures to the living space around them.

Dirty laundry and neglected trash sit in little piles all around in a room that smells of old must with a faint, queasy scent of booze. “This is no way to live, buddy!”

Frank says nothing. Instead, he sits and listens without even attempting to make eye contact, like a child receiving a tiresome lecture.

Alex grits his teeth and tries to keep his temper in check. “So… What I’m trying to say is…. Maybe you need to get out of here, you know? Go to a game, take a vacation, something!”, he scoots a bit closer, taking on a more personal tone with his old friend, “I don’t want to see you destroy yourself like this Frank…”

Woods recoils at that, snapping to life as though he’d just now entered the conversation, “I’m not! I just… I need some time to get over this, alright!”

Mason casts an exaggeratedly doubtful look at the other man. Frank jumps to defend himself once more, but Alex cuts him off, “Ok ok! How about this, let’s you and me go out for a little bit huh? Have some beers, some guy time! I just want you to get out of this place for a little while, is that so bad?”

Frank grumbles a bit, but somewhere in there is an agreement. Mason cheers, "That's the spirit!", and drags his friend upstairs to clean up. He pushes him off to shave and shower before going downstairs to help himself to the kitchen.

It takes far longer than he anticipated, but Alex doesn’t go up to pressure the old Sargent even once. At last, the staircase creaks softly as Woods descends. He looks like a new man. Clean clothes, shaped up beard, and a gentle wafting of clean, musky shampoo emanating from him.

Woods walks up without much fanfare for himself, but Alex offers him a smile and a firm pat on the back, “There, now isn’t that better? You look great!”

Frank grunts and perhaps even mutters a thank you, but Mason is too busy trying to keep the momentum up. Once more, he drags his friend along and out to the car. The sun is starting to set and options for places to go are beginning to dwindle. Woods wonders where they’re going, and yet as the streets race by, he finds himself caring less and less.

By the time the car comes to a stop, he’s nearly fallen asleep.

Mason turns off the engine and shakes him awake, “Hey don’t fall asleep on me now, we’re just getting started!”

Woods snaps awake, but has to shield his eyes immediately. It seems impossibly bright out considering how late it is. He blinks a few times and rubs his eyes. Once they're fully adjusted, he finds that what he sees does nearly nothing to alleviate his confusion.

Before him stands the front of a pulsating night club. Blue and purple neon blaze in the dusky twilight. He can only imagine how they must look in the dead of night. A pounding beat comes from somewhere within, no doubt the drum track to some popular, modern song. Small clusters of younger people and a handful of adults hang around the doors pregaming for what they must be anticipating to be a long, wild night.

The pair get out of the car, but Woods is bewildered all the while. When Alex finally comes around to him, he can’t keep silent any longer, “What the fuck did you bring me here for?”

Mason seems almost taken aback, “For some fun? Come on, I know this isn’t really your scene but maybe that’s exactly what you need! Something new and fun, right?”, he doesn’t wait for a response, instead he pushes his friend along as they head towards the entrance.

The air seems thick and hazy around him, a fact only highlighted by the glowing miasma created by the neon interior. If Alex wasn’t pulling him along, he’s sure he’d get lost.

Alex takes him over to a table buried back in the corner. They take a seat and despite being right across from each other, Mason nearly has to shout to be heard over all the noise, “Want a drink?”

Woods thinks about it for a moment, still taking in the environment as he does so. He’s trying to find the bar, and when he does he figures it’s impossible to miss. A huge back wall of glass bottles, all lit up by a halo of purple neon and cool fluorescent lights stands bright as a beacon behind a solid bar top and array of stools and customers.

“Sure, I can get my own”

“Great! Hey, grab my usual would ya? I’m gonna take a leak real quick”, he points over his shoulder and excuses himself as he makes for the restrooms.

This… is not at all what he wanted.

Suddenly, Woods feels trapped and alone again, no better than he was back in his own home. Except now he’s surrounded by the heat, noise, and stench of over a hundred other people.

The lights feel heavy and blinding, the pulsating pop music, deafening. He trudges up to the bar slowly yet surely, but with every step he comes closer to committing to his plan of escaping back to Alex’s car.

He never should’ve went along with this… he was just fine at home, damn it.

Lost in his thoughts and half blinded by the smoke and lights, he runs smack into another person. With a dampened thud, they hit the ground hard. Wood swears under his breath and figures he can at least offer a hand. He bends down to help up the fallen individual, only to see…

You.

Suddenly, it’s as if all the haze and fog has cleared from his eyes. He can see you clear as day down here, and the noise and smells of the crowd all fade away. A soft blue glow highlights your features, and an electric magenta bounces off your hair. The sparkling, sequined little dress you wear glitters in the halo of light descending around you, and a thousand flecks of light reflect back onto his worn, tired face.

Woods' hand hangs in mid air, half way through it’s journey to assist you. He whispers your name, quietly and fondly, as though he never thought he’d see you again.

For the first time in what must have been days, a smile breaks free from his stern glower.

But all you see is the asshole who teased you along for weeks, only to give you the highest embarrassment by sending you off like a misbehaving child after you were at your most vulnerable with him.

You were ready to give him your very body, and he only felt up what he wanted and sent you off.

With a sneer, you slap his hand away and hop up on your own. You don’t even bother to spare him a word. Instead, you stare daggers into him and walk off.

For a moment. For a second time… He watches you go.

He should let you walk away.

After what he did, you deserve at least the privacy. And that’s aside from the fact that you’re clearly pissed.

But he can’t. Not again.

“Hey, wait!”, he dashes after you, shoving his way through the crowd. A little too roughly, he grabs your upper arm and spins you around. You yank yourself free from his grip and glare right through him. Even through all the rage…

You look so beautiful in this light.

“I… I- uh. Hey”

“Hey?”, your blood is boiling. Is that all he has to say for himself?

The venom in your voice makes him recoil, shrinking back into himself. But still… “I uh, I just… H-how are you… I didn’t think you’d be in a place like this, heh…”

Out of pure manners, you respond, “Fine. What are you doing here?”, you cross your arms, defensive, but genuinely curious.

Woods looks over his shoulder then all round, searching for any sign of Mason. Nothing. He snaps his attention back to you, trying to come up with any reason at all to explain himself. Frank stutters for an answer, but you end your indulgent lapse before he can say anything coherent and turn to walk away.

“Wait! I… I-I miss you...”

You whip around, seething with anger. Then, very seriously, you ask, “Are you following me?”

“What? No! Fuck no! I just… I miss you, that’s all!”

You scoff, “Well maybe you should’ve fucking thought of that first”

“...You’re right”

That stops you dead. This is nothing like the Woods you know… You can’t recall a single time he’s had the humility, let alone the balls, to admit that he’s wrong.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah…”, he sighs, and even in the darkness of the club you can see a glimpse of just how much pain he’s in, “Look… I shouldn’t have done that, back there behind the gym. You trusted me and I fucked it up. I know. It’s just… I was scared”

A biting edge creeps back into your voice. You don’t buy that. “Scared? Of what, getting caught?”

“What? No! I was scared… that I was taking advantage of you, alright?”

You blink, and suddenly all the rage leaves you, as though the hot air was deflated right out of you. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Well I mean… You know… Y-you’re just a kid, and I’m… not. I just- It didn’t feel right. Hell, I didn’t even get a chance to ask if you really wanted all that, I just… went for it”

You take a little step closer, your hard gaze softening just a touch, “Well… It’s not like I was saying no”, you chuckle

“Yeah, but that’s not the fucking same, you know?”

You look away, “Yeah…”

“So… Anyway… I’m sorry, alright?”

At last, you turn back and smile at him, “Alright. I forgive you, and… thanks. For saying that”

Woods nods and accepts your thanks. The two of you share a little smile and a short pause of uncertain silence until he breaks the silence, “So… What now?”

You look him up and down. He’s wearing jeans and a tightly fitting flannel, a stark contrast to all the trendy, flashy fashion of the rest of the clubbers, and yet it’s so… him. You trace a finger down his limp, tattooed arm, stopping at his fingers to intertwine them with yours.

“How about a dance?”, you tug his hand gently, then nod towards the dance floor.

A feeling like euphoria washes over him, and time seems slow as he floats along while you tug him through the crowd. Somewhere in the beautiful, prismatic show of lights, he hears himself agree. You lead him to a cramped, but vacant spot on the glowing dance floor and turn an ear to the music, “Hey, I love this song…”

Woods perks up to listen, just in time to catch the start of More Than A Woman, muffled slightly by all the noise and bustle of the crowd.

It’s like it’s playing from within a dream.

You rest your hands on his chest, letting them slide down so that the heels of your palms sit where the curve of his stomach begins to swell out. Frank has his hands on your waist, swaying in time with you slowly to the music. He clears his throat and looks away from your sparkling, gorgeous eyes, a nervous blush creeping up his neck.

He knows you’ve been over this before, but… “Yeah, uh… so, you know, I’ve been thinking I should lose some weight... You know, while you’ve been… gone”, he moves your hands up from his belly to clasp behind his neck.

You quirk up your brow, a confused smile on your lips, “Why?”

“Uh, I don’t know… I think it makes me look old, I guess”

You laugh and come a little closer, your bodies nearly touching, “Well, if it means anything... I don’t think so”, You inch up and kiss his cheek, bringing one hand down to rest on his softened pect. He huffs a nervous laugh and masks the flattered embarrassment with a timid smile as he covers your hand with his, holding it there just a little while more.

He's never forgotten how amazing your touch alone feels.

He clears his throat and re-establishes eye contact. A whole kaleidoscope of color plays inside your eyes. He could get lost in them for the rest of his life. “You uh… wow. You- you look beautiful tonight...”, he steals a quick glance as your little, sparkly dress and the neon rainbow refracting off the thousands of tiny sequins, “Nearly gave this old man a heart attack when I first saw you”, he laughs.

“Oh?”, you smirk and lead him into a turn, “ In that case, you should see me take it off”

His heart pounds underneath your palm, but his face looks frozen with surprise. He doesn’t hear women say that kind of stuff to him often…

“D-do you… Do you mean that?”

“Well, I mean… Maybe after this, I’d love t-”

“No, not that. I mean… Me. D-do you really feel that way about me?”

You stop dancing for a moment.

His words cut deeply with the quiver of hope they carry, as though it had never crossed his mind that someone would want to be with him.

“Of course I do. But… I want you more then just for that you know”, you chuckle.

His cheeks go pink, “Oh. Damn, so you like that kind of st-?”

You place a single finger to his lips, shushing him. “I meant… I love you”

Your words echo back to him in slow motion, as though reality and time itself are breaking all around him to unveil a haven of euphoria. His heart is beating in his ears, and yet it sounds slow and calm, just like the wild crowd and the blaring music all around him.

Everything grows quieter and softer until it all fades away, leaving behind just you and him.

He wracks his brain, trying to remember the last time he heard those words, only to come up empty handed. It’s been so long… He can’t even remember.

Frank looks back at you, a little neon angel clinging to his beat up old shirt. Gorgeous. That’s all he can think of when he sees you. He almost feels like he shouldn't even have the privilege to do so. You bat long lashes up at him and a slow smile draws across your soft, glossy lips.

More than a woman…

Slowly, you come up to meet your lips to his. You’ve kissed before, but this… It feels like the first kiss of his entire life.

He presses back gently, sucking softly as he draws you close. You smell like dark cherry and amber, some combination of perfume and lip gloss. The faint smell of whisky and musk radiating off of him mingles with the divine scent of you.

He can taste it all on his tongue, even as he slides it over to flick across yours.

More than a woman to me…

At long last you part, breathing softly as your eyes drift up to meet one another's. And when he looks down into those deep, glittering pools, he wonders how he never saw all the love and warmth they hold for him. The love they always had.

“I love you too…”, he whispers, tears stinging at his eyes and voice, before he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

And now? The love they always will.

[twstarchives]

This Happens, and I...

Card: Lab Coat - SR Characters: Epel, Crewel, Jack, Cater, Vil (mentioned) Notes: Connected to Lilia Lab Coat

Chapter 1

—ALCHEMY WORKSHOP—

Crewel: The lambent flower, as its name suggests, is a plant that radiates light.

This plant is able to convert various nutrients into magic power and store them.

When it blooms, it releases all of the magic it had saved, making it give off a radiant shine.

Its petals won’t stop giving off that magic after it blooms, so it withers very quickly, and it’s difficult to breed them.

In fact, our own school’s botanical garden has hardly any at all.

For our Magic Potions lab today, we’ll be using nectar from lambent flowers.

Obviously, this nectar is extremely valuable. So be very careful when you take some from the jar with your droppers, puppies...

(Shatter!)

Epel: AHH?!

Crewel: The puppy that barked just now...

You’re Pomefiore’s Epel Felmier, yes? If you have a question, then quietly raise your hand.

Epel: I don’t have a question, I just... um...

I hit the jar of lambent flower nectar with my elbow... and broke it.

Crewel: You what?! ...Y-You spilt more than half of it!

Epel: I-I’m sorry... I-I was careless...

Classmate A: Oh, no... You really screwed up. See you on the other side, Epel.

Epel: Huh?

Jack: I heard from one of my seniors that if you make Professor Crewel mad, your life as a human ends for good.

They said he “disciplines” any student who makes some stupid mistake till they’re bowing on the floor crying their eyes out.

Epel: Th-They’re just exaggerating...

Crewel: Exaggerating. Yes, exactly, only exaggerating. That comment made it very clear what your stance is on this.

First you waste valuable lab ingredients, and then brush it off like that...

You’ve got some nerve, you mutt!!

          (Crewel brings out his whip)

Epel: Ahh!!

Jack: Th-That had a lot of force there.

Epel: I-I’m sorry... I really am! It wasn’t on purpose...

Crewel: Be quiet! Bad boys who make excuses must be punished.

You spilt one teacup’s worth of nectar. Collect that much again, and don’t miss a single drop.

I’ll give you... yes, two months to do this. If you don’t have it all collected by then...

You know what’ll become of you, don’t you?

Epel: ...*Gulps*

(W-Well, he gave me a chance to make up for myself. I gotta break my neck tryin’!)

Yes, I understand. I’ll go and get back all the nectar I wasted.

Classmate B: ...No way Epel’s really gonna be able to do it. He looks like seeing a bug would be enough to send him screaming bloody murder.

Classmate C: He should just call it quits and tell him “I can’t do it” while he still can. That pretty boy’s got too much pride.

Classmate A: Oi, cut him some slack!

What are you going to do when that sheltered little boy starts bawling his eyes out? Hahaha!

Epel: ......

—BOTANICAL GARDEN - TEMPERATE ZONE—

Epel: I’m getting that lambent flower nectar no matter what!!

...It’s been a week since I promised myself that. I’ve been coming to the botanical garden to check on the flowers everyday, but...

I only planted five flowers, and they’re still just buds. I can’t get their nectar if they don’t bloom...

But even if they did bloom, I still only have five flowers—I wouldn’t even be able to get a whole spoonful of nectar.

And I have to get an entire teacup full? How am I supposed to do this?

Cater: What’s this~? I see Mr. Cutie from Pomefiore over there!

Epel: That voice... That’s gotta be Cater-san.

How many times do I have to tell you? My name’s not “Cutie,” it’s Epel.

Cater: Yup, yup, you’re as cute as ever today ♪

Have you thought about starting a Magicam yet? I could show you how.

I’ve said this before, but I think someone as cute as you could absolutely be an influencer~

Epel: ....Hah. Right now, I don’t have the time for that.

Cater: What’s the matter? You look glum.

Epel: Well...

Cater: So Professor Crewel told you to bring him one teacup’s worth of lambent flower nectar... I see.

Epel-chan, you poor thing. Wasn’t it obvious this was impossible from the start?

Epel: Huh?

Cater: Lambent flowers take about two to three years to bloom after they bud.

Epel: Whaaat?! T-Two to three years?!

Cater: That’s how long it takes to build up enough of that magic power they need to bloom.

So I don’t think there’s any way you could get a whole teacup in two months.

Epel: S-So then why did Professor Crewel tell me I only had two months to get the nectar?

Cater: Well, he lives by the motto “Discipline your dog till it stops biting the hand that feeds it.”

Epel: Discipline...?

Cater: He’s probably waiting for you to come crying “I can’t do this anymore~!” to him.

Epel: S-So, you mean... He was just being mean from the start?!

Cater: You got it~♪

Well, maybe it’s better to say it’s just his teaching style.

Huh? Epel-chan, are you listening?

Epel: ......

I... I’m not the best at studying... and yeah, I make a lot of mistakes... but... I always try to fix them...

And I... just want to be acknowledged...

So when he gave me a second chance, I thought “I have to put in everything I’ve got”...

But he was just being mean... My classmates were making fun of me too... I can’t believe this...

Cater: Wait, you’re actually really shocked?!

Epel: This happens, and I... I... and everyone got to... ah!

Cater: Hey, don’t cry, Epel-chan...

Epel: ...I want to prove them all wrong!!

Cater: That option?!

E-Epel-chan, you’ve actually pretty competitive, huh?

Epel: I'm not a mutt... or a pretty boy!

Cater: I think it’d be better if you apologized while you’ve still got time. ‘Cause this was an impossible game from the start...

Epel: It... can’t be impossible. I’m going to outsmart all of them!

Chapter 2

—INTERIOR HALLWAY—

Cater: Oh~? Are you heading back now, Epel-chan? Then let’s go to the Mostro Lounge together ♪

What do you say about making your Magicam debut by taking a selfie with me against a super aesthetic café backdrop?

Epel: Cater-san... Sorry, I can’t today, I think. I have to go to the botanical garden.

Cater: Botanical garden... What?

Are you still collecting lambent flower nectar because you want to prove yourself to Professor Crewel?

Epel: Yes, of course I am!

This is compensation for the valuable nectar I spilt. I’m going to pay it back.

Cater: You sure are stubborn. But remember we talked about how this was impossible from the start?

Apologizing ASAP will make everything sting less.

If you’re scared of Professor Crewel, want me to come with you?

Epel: C’mon! I thought I already told you “it can’t be impossible.”

Cater: Huh? What do you mean...?

Epel: Hehe... Here, come with me. I’ll show you something cool.

—BOTANICAL GARDEN - TEMPERATE ZONE—

Cater: Epel-chan, where are we going? We’re already really far into the botanical garden...

Epel: We’re almost there. Oh, here, I can see it.

Cater: Huh? Is something here...? Wait...

Whaaaaaat?

The flower bed is full of blooming lambent flowers!

Huh? You only had like five before, right? How many hundreds is this?

Plus they all look strong, and they’re already blooming flowers... No way...

How’d you do this?!

Epel: Hehe, it was as easy as a can of—er! It was very easy!

Remember what you told me, Cater-san?

About it taking time for lambent flowers to build up enough magic power to bloom?

Cater: Oh yeah, I remember.

Epel: Hearing what you said reminded me of something the teacher told us during class.

Crewel: This plant is able to convert various nutrients into magic power and store them.

When it blooms, it releases all of the magic it had saved, making it give off a radiant shine.

Epel: And in that case, if I just keep giving it nutrients, it’ll collect more and more magic and bloom quicker!

...Maybe? That’s what I thought.

But the store-bought soil you use for growing regular flowers wouldn’t work at all...

So I decided to give it a special fertilizer packed full of lots more nutrients everyday.

Cater: A special fertilizer?

Epel: I made it myself!

Cater: You say that in such a cute tone, like you just baked some sweets... but fertilizer, huh? You made some?

Epel: Yeah! It’s all inside this bag...

Cater: THAT STINKS!!

*Cough*... Wait... It’s making my eyes and nose burn!! What’s that disgusting smell?!

Epel: Ahaha, isn’t it normal for fertilizer to smell?

Cater: This is not normal!! This doesn’t bother you at all, Epel-chan?

Epel: It’s not that it doesn’t bother me, it’s just I’m used to field wor—wait, no, um... I’m used to gardening.

There’s so much fertilizer right at your disposal at this school! You could get as much food scraps as you want in the cafeteria.

Cater: Food scraps?!

Epel: And the most important thing to make this special fertilizer is...

Horse shit!

Cater: Horse... huh, what?

I just heard a word I never thought I’d hear coming out of the mouth of our delicate Epel-chan...

Epel: It’s horse shit. A horse’s dung. I’ve been getting some everyday from the horse-riding club.

The horses at this school eat really well, so they make loads of it everyday. It really helped me out.

Horse shit doesn’t just help grow the plants; it nurtures the soil too. It’s really the best fertilizer you could get!

Cater: D-Do you have to keep saying it so many times? Cay-kun is getting shaken up...

Umm, so, you’ve been collecting food scraps and horse dung everyday for two months...

Then mixed it together to make a suuuper smelly fertilizer, and that made the lambent flowers bloom at a crazy speed...?

Epel: Yeah!

Cater: Epel-chan, I can’t believe you! You’re way bolder than you look!

I’m actually blown away!

Crewel: Just when I thought I heard a ruckus over here... this is an odd pair. What are you doing in the botanical garden?

Hm? Don’t tell me I’m seeing... lambent flowers blooming in that flower bed?!

Epel: Professor Crewel, what do you think? I grew lambent flowers!

I’m really close to being able to get you one teacup’s worth of nectar... Please wait a little while.

If you’d like, I could even get a whole teapot’s worth.

Crewel: Heheh, hahaha! And here I thought you’d surely tuck your tail and come crying miserably to me... I didn’t see this coming.

You must have needed an extraordinary amount of dedication to raise lambent flowers up to this point, since they die so easily.

You’re a much pluckier puppy than I’d taken you for. Good boy, Epel Felmier.

Epel: Thank you...!

Crewel: However, don’t think I’m going to be lenient with your class and exam grades just because of this.

I’m just holding you in the same regard as the other puppies now.

This recognition is simply for making up for your shortcomings.

Epel: Yes, I understand. I’ll continue working as hard as I can from now on.

Crewel: Good answer. ...Keep this up and prove yourself to the other students too.

Epel: Okay!!

Cater: ...There you go! “Good boy” is Professor Crewel’s biggest compliment!

Epel: Ehehe...

Cater: All’s well that ends well, huh? ♪ Man, but anyway...

The sparkly, shiny lambent flowers, and a smiley Epel-chan. You wouldn’t even have to edit this; it’s already super photogenic.

Hey~ Is now the right time to make a Magicam account? I’m sure you’d go viral!

Epel: I’m sorry. I’m going to go to the library now... to study!

I’m going to keep doing my best in Potions... and maybe... I’ll even be able to surpass the Dorm Leader!

See you later, Cater-san. Excuse me!

Cater: Ehh~! Don’t be so cold~ Your super nice senior¹ will help you study~!

1. Your super nice senior

Cater refers to himself as “oniisan” (big brother), but I tried to substitute with something more fluent-sounding that still conveys a similar feeling of familiarity/him being “older”

[still-a-morosexual-help]

OBEY ME! LESSON 46 DETAILED SUMMARY + THEORIES

This lesson’s got two locked chapters that I can’t unlock :’)

D takes them to the casino where they meet Mammon in the Lamp event outfit. When he laughs and tells them that they must have forgotten who he is if they think they can take the money MC ignores all of this to ask him wtf he’s wearing. Mammon blushes and tells them that they have no right to criticize what he’s wearing considering what they’re wearing. Then he says also Lucifer wtf happened to you!? He laughs and teases Lucifer about getting shrunk and how he could accidentally step on him and kill him rn or how Beel might eat him as a snack. I saw someone say that Mammon was a little shit who was also BabyTM and like Yess!??? I love when we get to see more of the asshole side of him specially when we already know how soft he is. Man’s an onion :’) Beel says he wouldn’t do that unless Lucifer hid inside a piece of cake and Beel swallowed him whole without realising. Lucifer, off screen: “You’d better realise I was there!” And Like??? That’s the point Lucifer wants to argue? Not the fact that he wouldn’t hide inside a cake? Mammon says whatever and that he’ll take Lucifer from them so he can have fun with his new toy anyway RIP to Mammon who dies after this lesson. “Mammon, Avatar of Greed, Appears”- gonna have Pokemon Battles from now on, I can’t believe this what this dating sim has evolved into :D Mammon uses wind to lift Lucifer up and bring him towards him. MC has a flashback to the previous night and commands Beel who transforms into a demon and whose body starts moving on its own, Beel then cancels out Mammon’s spell and uses a wind spell to send Mammon flying. Beel transforms back to his human form and is shocked by what happened. Solomon says MC did a good job commanding Beel though they weren’t able to draw out all his powers. They get the armour, which Beel thinks is too flashy but MC tells him it looks great which he is happy about. D tells them about a rumour of Satan attacking a town up north.

As they walk through the woods Lucifer talks about how much he’s gonna love beating the shit outta Mammon when he’s back to normal and waves MC off when they ask him to go easy on Mammon. Beel says that Lucifer used to be a lot nicer to Mammon in the celestial realm and how the two of them would team up to go argue with Raphael. Solomon asks if it was Diavolo who got Lucifer to change and what exactly Lucifer had to do to reach the status they now enjoy in the Devildom. Beel seems shocked at this and ask Lucifer if it’s true. He says he doesn’t remember. There’s growling & they’re suddenly surrounded by ghosts. Solomon: Oh yeah lol this is called the Black Phantom Forest. Everyone else: WHY the FUCK didn’t you say so before!? They run from the ghosts and set up camp beside a lake, MC & Beel talk. Beel says how they’ve all changed from their time in the Celestial Realm and he can’t remember when he stopped resisting the urge to constantly eat. But how somethings are still the same and how the brothers have always been together and how they always will be. He brings up the three things the butcher said to maintain a long relationship and how even though they may sometimes falter at the “respect each other” part when it comes down to it the brothers have all three things with each other (Not me sobbing like a baby. It’s the found family trope for me guys). Beel says how he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to fight Belphie if they meet him in the game and how he has so many people who he loves that he doesn’t know who to put first and that he knows many people would kill to have that kinda problem and that as both an angel and a demon he’s being lucky to have the people he loves. MC gets to hold his hand, lean on his shoulder or say nothing and guys I love Beel so much he’s just so pure god. Okay so theory part: I 100% believe (& it’s implied in canon and in the chats too) and the main reason Lucifer is so mean to Mammon now is because he’s scared if he doesn’t discipline him then Diavolo will and he’ll end up with another Lilith situation. That being said I NEED to know how Lucifer came across Mammon in the celestial realm and what he said to make Mammon so loyal to him. PLS om! Give me the boys backstory? I like to think Lucifer raised Mammon the same way Simeon is raising Luke and that’s why you can see some of Lucifer’s traits in Mammon whenever he becomes serious about something and why Mammon sometimes slips up and calls Lucifer “Dad” and why Lucifer becomes so happy about it. I also think the others would have been older than Mammon was when he first met Lucifer, when they eventually joined the family which is why they share far less traits with Lucifer and why (as far as we know) none of them have called Lucifer ‘dad”. If this is true it also brings up a real interesting dynamic between Satan and Mammon that would be useful when writing fics. You know a little deeply buried resentment and envy about Lucifer having been more of a father figure to Mammon than to the person who is technically his actual son, and since we know for a fact that right after arriving in the Devildom Lucifer starts going through an existential crisis and Mammon’s the one who steps up to look after the others I 100% believe Mammon’s the one who did most of the work in raising a newly created Satan and who taught him how to control his anger so well (cause lets be real it definitely couldn’t be any of the others) which also gives backstory to Satan’s “do you think Mammon’s actually the most decent of us” homescreen comment and more importantly adds spice to the relationship dynamic you can work with in fics.

When they wake up Beel is thankful that they didn’t get eaten. Solomon: not like you would have noticed with all the fun you had *wink wink* Lucifer: wtf Solomon:*WINK WINK* Me: bro they were just talking…  they find out game time and real world time pass differently and come across a treasure chest in the middle of their path. Solomon: Lets open it! :D Lucifer: Expect that’s definitely a trap… Solomon: Exactly! Which is why we should open it! :D MC: Lets open it! :D Lucifer: Why is the entire human species so fucking stupid!? Why were you created without any self preservation!? Who approved this!?  They find medicine, a warding bottle and cat ears. …They put Lucifer into the bottle and Lucifer’s really going through it in this huh. But opening the chest pulls up an inescapable battle with the final boss, and Satan pops up fully immersed in the villain role with an evil laugh and everything. Luci asks MC to use something from the chest and they use the cat ears and Lucifer’s disappointed when they actually work. But it only deals 222 damage to Satan’s 870k HP. Satan paralyses them all and steals bottled lucifer and calls Belphie to finish the others off. I can’t remember if I mentioned this before but how did the brothers know that Lucifer was gonna be mini before they even got home, it would’ve had to be quite a bit in advance for them to so perfectly set up everything… And you know Solomon was really determined to open that chest (I mean so was MC but the whole of season 1 was establishing that their curiosity was gonna get them killed) so…

MC tells Belphie they don’t want to fight him and Belphie says he doesn’t want to fight either but at the same time Satan agreed to give him mine lucifer for a whole day if he defeats them. Beel’s still reluctant and Belphie says Beel doesn’t have to worry cause Belphie isn’t the same small/weak person that Beel always had to protect (and holy shit I need more info on this too?). Beel eventually agrees and says that Belphie’s strong, he tells MC that they weren’t able to use his entire power against Mammon cause he was holding himself back unconsciously but that he was ready now. MC makes Beel do a bunch of wind attacks and they defeat Belphie who’s impressed. Beel says that the magic was actually MC doing it not him (even though he was the one that executed it). Belphie says he’ll join their party if MC promises him that he’ll be allowed to poke at mini luci. MC tells him there’s a damned line and he’ll have to wait his turn. Solomon wonders if MC should be going around giving the right to annoy lucifer to others but also he wants that right too. Even though Lucifer was kidnapped since he’s still in the bottle he’ll be protected so MC’s test is still ongoing. Odd that there was a bottle that would protect Lucifer should he get kidnapped in the chest that was a trap… look we all know Solomon is shady enough that he’s probably behind this right?

During dinner at a tavern the twins are sickeningly soft with each other and Solomon watches them with a smile. For the night the twins end up sharing a room with each other, with Mc and Solomon alone together. In the middle of the night MC wakes up to Solomon still up and looking sad. They ask him what’s up. He says despite how much they walked he still isn’t tired and that seeing the twins together made him lonely. Seeing how much they love and care and understand each other and how they were always together made him wish he had something similar but how when you didn’t age it was difficult to from lasting bonds like that in the human world. MC tells him that all of them care about him and he says he hopes so. Solomon: Lol just the two of us in a room in a game, wouldn’t it be crazy if we made out? MC can either kiss him or kinda stare awkwardly. If they choose the second he apologises for suddenly putting them on the spot and says he won’t try anything else. So this might be kinda an unpopular opinion and I’m genuinely really happy that the side characters are getting more screen time and development because I desperately needed that but I’m not really onboard the romancing option with them? I’m happy they’ve got their own cards now and I love the devilgram stories and romance options in them but I don’t think it makes sense in the context of the main storyline? Barbatos has almost no interaction with MC and though they haven’t shown it yet it’d be weird if he was suddenly into MC. Diavolo spent 2 whole seasons simping over Lucifer why is MC suddenly an option? Besides Diavolo always seems so lonely and I really want him and MC to be really good friends, I want Diavolo to have a friendship where there isn’t some condition that hangs over it like there is with his relationship with Barbatos and Lucifer. The same goes with Solomon. I just want him to have a good solid friendship where there isn’t expectations or power between them. He also initially only seems interested in MC for their power and as a way to train them and eventually genuinely softens up to them, Just the request to kiss seemed outta nowhere? I don’t know why but with Simeon he seems above crushes? I always imagine him seeing MC as another cute kid Lucifer picked up (despite MC being an adult) and having a sort of soft indulgent attitude towards them. I don’t know I think I just want MC to have some friends who aren’t trying to sleep with them.

Solomon is extremely chipper the next morning and Belphie grumpily makes a comment about him having fun and sdfjdvnsjdokd they just talked. Belphie uses his magic to teleport them to Satan’s castle and Beel asked why he couldn’t do that the previous night, Belphie says grumpily cause then Solomon would have missed out on the fun and Solomon agrees and THEY JUST TALKED!? Satan has managed to transform Lucifer into wolf Lucifer and is shaking his bottle hard enough to make Luci wanna puke while Lucifer asks him to stop. MC tells satan to stop and he tells them they won’t be able to defeat him cause they skipped right to the boss battle without taking the long route and levelling up. MC says they’re not gonna fight him cause this whole thing is fucking stupid. Satan says it’s not cause he’s having fun. MC gives him one of their free therapy sessions about how important the bonds between he and his brothers are and how they don’t care more about helping the brothers all get along than some stupid star. Beel comes out spitting facts, saying they all know that Satan actually cares about Lucifer and how that embarrasses him and how he needs to stop hiding it by lashing out. And how Lucifer needs to get his shit together and be honest with satan. That he needs to tell Satan that Lucifer knows he’s his own demon and a really good demon at that. Lucifer says FYI but I never said you weren’t your own great person and Satan blushes and says that unless he wants to look childish he has no option but to accept the olive branch. He tosses Luci to MC. Belphie complains about having stupid older brothers and Solomon says he’s disappointed in Satan and reveals himself as the true secret final boss and FUCK YEAH! I CALLED THAT SHIT! Kinda – I thought he might have just given them a heads up about Luci’s condition. On a different note, Satan needs serious therapy. They all do tbh.

Solomon congratulates MC on what they’ve done so far but says they still haven’t accessed Beel’s full potential and that he’ll give his ‘adorable apprentice’ one more shit at it. Solomon summons Asmo who complains about how long he was made to wait and how he nearly gave up and went to the spa and that no one likes a selfish man. Solomon tells Asmo that he can tell him all this after they get back to the real world and I genuinely want the backstory of how they met and just more about their relationship. At Solomon’s command Asmo uses charm and paralyses Beel and at MC’s Beel uses another wind attack. Asmo says he’s never seen beel do something of this calibre before and he seems more powerful, even more than he was in the celestial realm, Asmo yells at Solomon for just standing and seeming impressed instead of helping him. There’s a bright white light.

Back home with everything back to normal Beel, Lucifer and MC are hanging out by the pool. Lucifer is in an unexpectedly good mood and MC has earned a star, which glows slightly from its place on the symbol etched to the back of their hand. Inside Solomon is feeding the other brothers as punishment. Mammon is sobbing his heart out and Levi is out cold (possibly dead). Satan is given Levi’s remaining share of food and Asmo is in tears. Belphie had made a run for it the second they got home and is nowhere to be found. Solomon talks about how nice Lucifer actually is and how he really loves his brothers cause he just made Solomon make them dinner instead of punishing any of them…. Love that the canonical reason why none of these demons tell Solomon about his food and allow themselves to get tortured is cause they don’t wanna be rude and hurt his feelings. And he thought no one cared about him. If that isn’t love I dunno what is. Beel and MC take a walk while Lucifer sits by the pool and in his words basks in “their screams of agony” While blushing beel says he’s grateful for what happened and how that star is proof that they got closer. Mc can either thank him or say that the star belongs to him. I think they kiss after the second option? For the first Beel says MC’s the one who did the work of drawing out his power. Over the echoing screams from inside Beel asks if they feel like they forgot something and ndfjkfjkdjfefjkn THEY FORGOT DIAVOLO I’M!!!!???? poor baby

[jiminrings]

coach! jungkook and y/n!!! jk being extra extra clingy

mvp: clingy

pairing: jungkook x y/n

wordcount: 3k

notes: aHHHHH coach!koo remains as i think my most popular piece and this is actually the first actual drabble he gets!! :D

read most valuable, the piece that started it all!!!

so you see

this isn’t a brag or anything pinky promise

but uh jungkook.,..

jungkook rARELY feels insecure ok

those two words don’t belong in the same sentence!!

THEY AREN’T EVEN IN THE SAME PARAGRAPH!!!

but god is he lying when he says he doesn’t feel the tiniest bit insecure with this mINgYu fellow

not to be that boyfriend but uhhh why don’t you laugh with him like THAT

:(((

“kook do you have someone in mind for a guest coach??”

jimin asks for the third time this week, looking mAjorly frustrated as he plops himself in the swivel chair

the dish was that y’know what!! it happens!! THIS happens!!!!

jimin’s been the longest assistant coach (and generally a coach) your team has ever had

he was practically there from the start!!!

whether he admits it or not, jimin’s a binding piece for you and the girls no matter what

then jungkook became head coach right

now the things was....

burnouts happen!! it’s normal!!!

it’s normal to LOSE your drive and passion for your sport as an athlete <3

the last season ended on a good note for sure because after all, you won the championships!!

not to mention that you were hailed mvp hee-hee :D

but then some months have passed

and the new season was supposed to start three months ago but of course it just had to be rESCHEDULED

it’s not necessarily an entirely bad thing

the extra time gave you more time to heal after your injury and your conditioning back to your prime is at top-notch!!

but it just can’t be helped

you and the girls??? your momentum??? aBSOLUTELY PUT-OFF

the training for next season just started last week and jimin and kook rEALLY prepared for this ok

there’s another reason to why kook is almost practically living at yours and jimin’s place nowadays lmao

... it just doesn’t work

it feels like every trick in both their books have been thoroughly used and it’s just not a challenge for you anymore

not to fLEX or anything but

basically the drills and the workouts just feel like warm-ups nowadays :D

and the warm-ups feel like a brisk walk in the park :D

that is both an insult and a compliment to jimin and jungkook because wOW!!! omg we instilled discipline and mastery to them <3

but at the same time it’s like you should nOT be giggling while i make you practice your pancake dives repeatedly

the two of them just need to BOOST everyone’s morale!!!

“actually, i finally found someone!! just thought of it last night but i didn’t wanna knock on your door because jupiter was in the living room and he thought i was an intruder aGAIN”

lol

sometimes jimin can’t wrap his head around that he sees jungkook perhaps almost ALL the damn time

he wakes up disoriented and he sees you on the couch with a bowl of cereal and look!!! my best friend slash roomie already made me breakfast :D

then he plops to the couch and there is this bEEFY entity lying on it covered with a blanket and???? jungkook???? what are yOU doing here

then jimin’s taking a spoonful of his cereal while he’s thinking because uH are the two of you screwing???

“hyung that’s my cereal”

“i put yours in the refrigerator jiminie!! i know how you like it cold!!”

aH and then it hits him

oh right the two of you are a couple now and jungkook just likes crashing and sleeping over at his apartment with you

when his oWN place is not even thirty minutes away wtf

<3 anyways get out of my way jungkook that’s MY spot on MY couch <3

jimin perks up at that because god fuck finally!!! he needs to make calls immediately

“well? who is it??”

jungkook pauses for a dramatic effect before he claps his hands, also eager to start this mini workshop of sorts for a week to boost team spirit

“mingyu!!!! he was my teammate from my former team and well there’s no rival conflict or anything like that!! perfect score!!!!”

that’s-

hmmmmmm

“y’talking about kim mingyu? tall guy, slicked hair, jumps high??”

“you know him??”

jungkook squints to himself because after all that was a little bit of a sTOOPID question

their games were televised and jimin’s a coach how could he nOT expect that

“yeah, yeah. he was my junior in high school and we were kinda friends i guess...”

there’s something in jimin’s tone and jungkook tries to dig in to that because well he thOught his hyung would be a bit more excited

jimin knows that kook could hear the cringe in his voice and it makes him scratch at the back of his head

“ah, you should probably keep y/n away. mingyu... well he was pretty mUCH notorious for stealing everyone’s girlfriends and opportunities from people and such.,.,..”

he still has a bit of resentment for mingyu ok

he was a fucking vULTURE

whatever he did first or whatever he wanted, mingyu would do and pursue the exact same

and jimin was definitely irked because people were hailing mingyu as the cool guy or sth for the things that he was copying off of jIMIN!!!!

they weren’t just coincidences!!!

they say imitiation is the best form of flattery but fuck that jimin is NOT flattered

“aish c’mon, jimin. you uNDERESTIMATE me!!! y/n only has eyes for me, silly!! :D”

aha

aHA

jungkook may have been too confident this time

he knows you still LOVE him!!!! right??

pls say right

there’s this wrenching feeling in the pit of his stomach when he sees you and mingyu doing one-on-one drills as he goes through you all

it was just a simple rally!!! a back-and-forth of the volleyball!! nOTHING major right??

wrong

jungkook could only focus to how focused YOU look

and to how at one point mingyu gave you a tricky throw back and you still managed to give it back to him and how you gIGGLED!!!!

g i g g l e d

then you gave a tricky throw back to mingyu and passed it back and this time he laughed and you cACKLED!!!!

oh my god why is jungkook feeling this way

jimin’s standing beside him and he could hear these little growls from jungkook???

like it’s not exactly gROWLING but it sounds like it

it’s a hybrid between a light snore and a growl and with how jungkook has his eyebrows knitted he is definitely nOt sleepy that’s fo sure

ugh are the two of you fighting again???

does jimin need to give jungkook a wake-up call again or-

wait

hold on

OH

hE KNOWS WHAT’S HAPPENING

the jeon jungkook is inTIMIDATED by mingyu!!!!

wow

he’s never thought that a day like this would come in which jungkook isn’t knocked down a couple of pegs bUT HERE IT IS :D

in your opinion this is GREAT for the team morale!!! coach mingyu was just a breath of fresh air for a guest coach and u are enjoying it

he’s given the team new insights and it helped break the collective burn-out!!

kook just feels insecure ok

and threatened

which is why the moment jimin called for a ten-minute break, jungkook immediately sITS you down

“hi hi okay whAt are you doing???”

you’re endeared but you’re taken aback because jungkook’s immediately hovering above you, swiping and patting down the sweat from your forehead

“i’m taking care of you, silly!! :D”

that’s nice, maybe???

you don’t wanna think much of it hehe jungkook’s just being a caring boyfriend u guess

although he’s never done this before ur gonna admit and you’re stILL dumbfounded

he’s going all-out

even getting a cold towel to put around your nape to help you cool down fetched you a sports drink aLLLLL by himself

he’s even gonna lift up your shirt and wipe down your boob sweat himself and tHEN you stop him

“koo baby i can do that by myself y’know!!!”

although it looks like jungkook doesn’t get why you dON’T want him to take care of you????

doesn’t waver though :D

just lifts your shirt in the slightest bit and shoves a towel to your sports bra and there he goes

“want a snack?? ah, want me to order pizza?? nO?? okay fine i’ll order oNE extra box just for you and me and i gUESS jimin if you want!!!”

it’s a spitfire of questions and you can’t even answer because jungkook’s already hopping on his merry way!!!

not before he presses a fat kiss to your cheek and exaggerates the mWAH sound

aha maybe he’s just being extra loving today

... maybe

“what do you want for dinner??”

“oh i was just thinking what about if we just order-“

“baby wHY do we need to order when your boyfriend is perfectly capable in making you dinner!!!”

ok then

????

something may be wrong with jungkook

it’s just not in his nature to take care of you this attentively

he takes care of you of course but not to the point that you don’t even have to move a single inch because he wants to do eVERYTHING

“jimin??”

you immediately call out when jungkook’s out from the apartment because he said that he’d be out in a flash to get some things from the convenience store because he’s gonna make some dAMN cocktails in his own words

“yeah???”

jimin’s showering atm and that doesn’t stop you from conversing by pressing yourself to the door

“did we lose a sponsor for the team or something????”

“no....? i even received another offer just awhile ago!!! what are you on about??”

oh really?? that’s nICE!!

but that isn’t really your point and you quickly recover before you get sidetracked

“huh?? nothing, minnie!! jungkook just feels a little... off,.,..”

jimin stops lathering his body wash on his loofah then because oh my god he thought he was the only one!!!

you asking basically confirms that jungkook being weird has nOTHING to do with you and his previous theory is 100% correct

you aren’t that bothered with jungkook being affectionate with you!!!

in fact you like it because wow.,.. love.,.. love that for me :D

but uh

this degree tho

“jungkook you are very uHh attached to me, aren’t you??”

here’s a list to how he’s been extra extra cLINGY to you

you were watching 50 first dates because it was the first thing that popped up when you opened the tv then the scene of the waffle house came on and you cOOED

and jungkook immediately jumped into action

by action that meant him literally DIVING to the other end of the couch where you were lying down and cuddled you

“i’m making you that tomorrow for breakfast!!!!”

you were a little sappy after that and it ended late and you just wanted to wash up before bed because there was still training tomorrow

nonetheless you were gonna wake up the next day because your boyfriend IS the head coach and ur roommate IS the assistant coach so u don’t really have a choice

might as well wrap up the night early

you had to wriggle yourself out of jungkook’s death grip to go to the bathroom and when he finally got his bearings???

you’re brushing your teeth :D

then jungkook’s just sat at the closed toilet seat :D looking at you :D

“wow... look at you.... ur so cute brushing your teeth”

“shwshshshw thwank you??”

it didn’t stop there however

of course you cuddled!! jungkook even takes his shirt off for it because in the middle of the night he could randomly get hot and fussy

this time jungkook was the bIG spoon

it’s no surprise that he likes being babied at times hee-hee but wOw so this was the feeling of warmth!!! of being wrapped around by a furnace!!!! it’s nice!!!

the next days however.,.,.

it was getting a little overboard

every single time he had the opportunity to, he would nuzzle his head to your neck and cling onto you until you tAP out

doesn’t care if mingyu sees him chasing you around with a towel on one hand and ice water on the other :D

of course why would he care :D

after all he iS the boyfriend and mingyu isn’t :D

when you bring down one hand as you just let the other scroll down your phone??

hOLD !!! IN TER TWINE !!! I MUST HOLD

you scratch that part of your scalp that randomly gets itchy when you are incapable of itching it???

kook drops everything he’s doing to scratch at your hair and even presses kisses to your hairline!!

even in sleep he was aTTACHED!!!

kinda like how he’s a koala and u are the only branch left in the world for him to cling on

he has his leg trapping you down and his arm on your middle and you’re just about to maneuver yourself so it would be cOmfy

but then kook takes that as a signal that he was still too loose so he cuddles up even MORE

you’re just about to grunt but then you look over to jungkook and-

!!!!

HE’S AWAKE

you immediately squeak and jungkook shuts his eyes sO quick and so hard that it becomes even more obvious that he’s awake

his eyeballs are trembling underneath his eyelids lmao

even his lip is twitching and his breathing isn’t as relaxed if he were ACTUALLY sleeping

“wanna tell me about it??”

...

“... no i’m asleep”

“want me to talk until you fall asleep??”

“yes pls i’m asleep anyway”

jungkook is even cuter this way :((

when he is beyond oblivious that he’s adorable by just being like himself basically

“training was great today!! i don’t know if you saw, but mingyu and i had a contest awhile ago to see who jumps up higher!! so mingyu-...”

jungkook oPENS his eyes at that only for them to twitch

all he hears is mingyu mingyu mingyu and frankly it’s iRRITATING

he reacts exactly when you mention the guest coach’s name and it makes you halt

“hmmm so it iS about him, huh?? jimin was right,” you mumble underneath your breath but he hears you nonetheless and it makes him huff

jungkook completely detaches and turns away from you in an instant as if he’s throwing a tantrum that makes you reach out for him more

“is that why you’ve been clinging onto me??”

he can’t lie he’s extremely sOFT the moment you try and wrap your arms around his huffing figure

“figured that if i’m attached to you by the hip, then you’d only think of me and nOt him”

he’s kind of ashamed as he admits because he feels like he’s being childish with his feelings

he’s not so used to being vulnerable and it makes him uHhHh vulnerable????

he doesn’t like it

“i don’t like mingyu, koo.”

he feels you pressing a tender kiss to his cheek that makes them squish

he hAS to have a stronger resolve than this

“then stOp mentioning his name!!”

he was tHREATENED that’s for sure

he doesn’t need to say that aloud because god what for <3 he’s already suffering he doesn’t wanna speAk

“you do know that you’re my oNLY best boy, hmm??”

buttering up jungkook could be a little tricky

but you seem to hit the notch just pERFECTly this time because he’s basically putty

“yeah? i don’t really know about that”

he’s a wHORE for affection!!! that much he’s realized halfway through the week of being attached to you

you seem to be also forgetting that jungkook’s shirtless and he’s taking his comforter down, a cheeky smile gracing him that you snOrt as soon as it registers in your mind

:D

“remind me?”

[dumbchickwrites]

unconventional pool game

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: there’s no summary. straight up pwp.

Warnings: SMUT; oral (f receiving), biting, little bit of choking, mutual masturbation, cum eating, Steve is kind of an asshole, so is Reader. I think that’s it?

Word count: 2.4K

A/N: I have nothing to say for myself. 

It’s been a few hours already, but you’re still fucking fuming.

It’s not like you hate Steve – you tolerate him, but that’s kind of beside the point – the point is, you hate when he gets all Captain-y on you; giving you too many unnecessary orders with that stern voice of his. You’re not a child, for fuck’s sake.

You stomp in the game room, looking for a drink to soothe your nerves. It’s not like anyone ever went in there anyway, especially not now. Almost everyone is out of the compound, either on a mission or doing something other than saving the world. Everyone except you and Steve, of course.

The bottles of the minibar glisten under the dim lights of the room, and your choice is made before you even step foot in the room. Vodka and apple juice. You’re trying to get flat out drunk, just soothe your nerves enough to forget Steve’s mere existence.

You pour yourself a drink and take a long sip, leaning against the pool table in the center of the room. A sigh, a really heavy one, escapes your lips. Finally some fucking peace and quiet, you think.

“What, you’re hiding from me now?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“I can’t even have one goddamn second to myself, Rogers?” you spit, rolling your eyes without even looking at him.

You’d just get even more annoyed by his pretty baby blue eyes and that full beard and those deliciously broad shoulders. You mentally slap yourself to shake off the thoughts. Mad. You’re mad at him, remember? Yeah. But it doesn’t matter how mad you are, you can’t deny that Steve is ridiculously attractive.

“Are you still mad at me because I did my job?”

This time you do look at him.

He’s leaning on the door frame, hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants. His eyebrows are furrowed, his gaze searching your face like you’re some kind enigma that he can’t quite wrap his head around. He always looks at people like this. Like he’s just some kind of angel who fell in this world of very complicated beings called humans.

You scoff and take another long sip of your drink.

For a second here you consider adding more vodka to the mix – and you do.

“Does your job description state that you have to be an asshole?” you finally say after two or three long sips.

Steve lets out a dry chuckle and you narrow your eyes at him, anger starting to bubble in your chest. What the fuck is so funny?

The super-soldier steps in the room and you swear the air becomes thicker as he does so. He walks past you to get to the minibar and get a beer from the fridge. You watch as he opens it, desperately trying to ignore the fact that he’s apparently showered and he smells delicious. Was that his cologne or his shampoo? Whatever that smell was ignited something in your belly – something other than the anger that was already there. The smell and the way he looks at you as a take a sip of his beer. And the way his Adam apple bobbles in his throat as he swallows.

“I wouldn’t have to be an asshole if you didn’t lack discipline.”

Did—did he just…?

“Are you fucking kidding me, Rogers?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“Those goons were going to murder dozens of children if I hadn’t stepped in.”

“You were outnumbered and I specifically told you to wait for backup.”

“Children were going to die. Children. Plus I came out of there without a scratch, so.” A shrug follows your words.

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what’s the fucking point?! Please enlighten me.”

“The point is you don’t fucking listen. I think you need to learn respect.”

That’s when you notice how close you are. His breath is warm on your face as he towers over you. Still, you hold his gaze, refusing to get intimidated by his massive form and his blue eyes, usually soft but now hard and dark. His features are set in a deep frown yet he doesn’t get less handsome.

You’re also more aware of the desire pooling in your belly not matter how hard you try to ignore it.

“Oh, yeah? Fucking make me.”

His hand flies to your throat, gripping it just hard enough that it’ll bruise the next morning. “I think I just might.”

Your fist connects with the crease of his elbow and you slap his hand away from your neck, resisting the urge to rub the sore spot.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

You’re not sure how much time passes as you look at each other dead in the eyes, panting from the heavy air in the room or the anger that builds in your bodies or maybe both, wondering who’s going to make the next move – hell, what the next move is even going to be.

Then it’s like you lose control of your own body. You grip the front on his shirt and pull him towards you. Your lips connect in a messy, angry kiss. The kind where you both fight for control, trying to prove your point.

Steve hoists you up on the pool table and you wrap your legs around his hips to pull him closer, a quiet moan escaping your lips as you feel his erection against your needy cunt.

Your hands have a mind of their own. They work quick to get Steve’s shirt off him and you don’t even have time to take him in, to look at him, before his hand fists the hair at the back of your head and pulls it, exposing your neck to open-mouthed kisses and harsh bites that get a pornographic moan out of you.

“So that’s how you like it, huh?”

“I fucking hate you,” you manage to breathe out.

“That’s not what I heard last night.”

“What?”

You look at each other, panting, and he has this fucking smug smirk on his face. He knows. He knows what you were doing last night. That you were fucking yourself, moaning his name, hoping that his tongue would one day replace your fingers and your toys.

“Your room is just above mine, sweetheart. And those toys of yours are so goddamn loud. I love the way you say my name when you cum, though.”

That fucking enhanced hearing.

His free hand slips into your shorts and a whispered ‘goddamn’ leaves his lips when he finally feels how wet you are. And it’s all for him.

You try to bury your face in the crook of his neck but he won’t have it.

“C’mon, baby, don’t get shy on me now.” He pulls your hair again, his eyes diving into yours. “I wanna see this pretty face when you finally get what you want. This is want you want, right?”

You nod as best as you can.

“Use your words, darlin’.”

The ‘yes’ comes out in an airless moan. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, literally. And the fucker knows it.

Steve slips one thick digit inside your needy pussy with ease, setting a slow pace to his movements, his eyes never leaving yours yet not missing the way your lips form a silent ‘oh’ at the sensation.

“Just fuck me, Steve.”

“Not just yet, baby.”

A noise between a moan and a groan leaves your lips and he fucking chuckles and you love it. Without warning, you slide one of your hands in his pants and grip his cock. His face and the noise he makes is enough to make you smile like you just won a fucking gold medal because shit, not everyone can say they had Captain America moan like a touch deprived madman.

You start pumping him slowly at first but he grinds against your hand, urging you to go faster even though your hand is dry except for the precum leaking from his tip.

“Fuck.”

You’re not even sure who speaks because another finger joins the first one in your pussy and everything starts to becomes blurry. He feels your walls close around his fingers and stops moving, letting you fuck yourself with his fingers until you reach your climax.

He gives you another hungry kiss before he completely pulls away from you.

Steve tugs at your shorts, silently prompting you to lift your hips so he can slide them down your legs. It's not long before his sweatpants pool around his ankles and you can finally look at him. And it’s better than what you’ve imagined. He’s longer than thick, and your mouth instantly waters. You’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your entire life.

“Like what you see?”

That stupid smirk is still dancing on his lips and he looks proud of himself. He starts stroking his cock and you whimper. He looks beautiful like that – breathing heavy, chest and cheeks slightly pink from the pleasure, and you swear you could come from only watching him.

You can’t help but bring your fingers to your cunt, your middle finger drawing slow circles on your clit, doing your best to match his slow lazy pace.

“Enough with the teasing already.”

In one step, Steve is back between your thighs, the tip of his cock rubbing your clit agonizingly slow.

“Steve…” You whine.

“Beg.”

You narrow your eyes at him once again. That motherfucker.

“Now that’s no way to look at your Captain, is it?” He grabs your jaw, squeezing your cheeks. “Be a good girl and beg for it.”

Another needy whine leaves your pouty lips. “Please, Ste—Captain. I want you to fuck me. Please. I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

You fucking hope this dick is worth it because—oh. Oh.

“Oh my God,” you moan. “Oh fuck.”

He’s so much bigger than you imagined, and he fills you up so nicely and suddenly the world around you goes dark. It’s just you and Steve and his slow, painful strokes.

“Shit, baby girl. I always knew this pussy would be fucking perfect. You’re taking me so well.”

The praise goes straight to your belly and you mewl, almost sobbing. This is so good—too good to be true.

“Open your mouth for me, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told and he spits in your mouth before kissing you as he speeds up his thrusts. Soon it becomes overwhelming. The table is shaking, you’re afraid it’s gonna break but at the same time you don’t really care. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips and you’re sure that’s another spot that’s gonna bruise.

Steve’s not looking at your face. He’s looking at the space where your bodies meet, almost mesmerized by the way his cock disappears in your cunt—like he can’t believe it and honestly, neither can you.

You don’t even find the strength to complain when he rips your tank top in half to expose your bare tits, taking one hardened nipple in his mouth, biting it, before the other one gets the same treatment. All you can do is moan his name over and over again and sob in pure bliss. This is everything you’ve imagined and so much more.

“Steve, I’m gonna—”

“Let go, baby. Cum for me.”

Everything goes white and it’s like your bones are on fire as your second orgasm of the night washes over you and your pussy creams around Steve’s cock.

Steve slows his thrusts until he pulls out and you collapse on the table, breathless.

“Oh, doll,” Steve chuckles. “You don’t think I’m done with you, do you? C’mere.”

He grabs one of your wrists and yanks you on your feet and spins you around so you’re facing the vintage mirror above the minibar. That’s when he notices the deep cut on your left shoulder, already stitched up.

“Without a scratch, huh?”

Before you can find a comeback, Steve leans forward and leaves feathery kisses along the wound, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. Taken aback by the sudden tenderness, you whisper his name in a plea.

Then it’s like it never happened. He slams back into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. The new angle has him hitting all the right spots and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Steve holds both of your wrists in one of his hands, keeping you from losing your balance, while the other one has a firm hold on your hip.

“Steve, I don’t think I can—fuck!”

“Of course you can, baby. I know you have another one in you.”

You’re not sure if the noise you make is even human at this point. You’re practically having an out of body experience as you stand here, Steve fucking the living shit out of you in a common room of the compound no less, where there are security cameras. The realization has your pussy squeeze around Steve’s dick and you both know you’re close.

His grunts get louder and his strokes start faltering.

“Where do you want me to cum, doll?”

“O—on my p—pussy. Cum on m—my pussy,” you manage to stutter.

In the blink of an eye, you’re back on the pool table, keeping yourself up on your elbows as you watch Steve jerk himself off over your drenched slit. His eyes don’t leave yours as he cums, white ribbons coating your belly and your cunt and you swear that his moans are the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard.

Before you can even think it’s over, Steve is on his knees, eye level with your pussy and he starts eating you out like a starved man, making sure he cleans you up nicely while savouring the taste of you and him. His lips close around your oversensitive clit and you don’t even have the energy to scream anymore as your entire body tenses up and your thighs clench around Steve’s head in a desperate attempt to get him to stop.

“Fuck!” you shout when he finally lets go of you.

You let him pepper kisses all over your inner thighs and your legs as you slowly come down from your high.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” you pant, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze.

“So that means you’re not gonna keep your promise? You’re not gonna be a good girl?”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you roll your eyes.

Steve chuckles and slaps your clit, making you yelp before you glare at him.

***

BONUS

“Alright,” Tony slaps his knees as he sits on the couch between Rhodey and Pepper. “You guys think they’re in his room or hers?”

“Honestly, I don’t really care,” Bucky shrugs. “As long as they get rid of that stupid tension.”

The whole team sits in Tony and Pepper’s New York apartment, enjoying a few drinks after the big dinner they had. The entire team had decided that they couldn’t bear the tension between you and Steve, so they decided to leave you an entire evening to work things out.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., where are Capsicle and Seven right now?” Tony asks the A.I.

“They’re in the game room, boss.”

“In the game room?” Sam echoes. “What the hell are they doing, playing chess?”

“Give us a visual, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

It takes a second for the A.I. to put the images up on the TV screen but when they appear, chaos erupts in the living room. Because it’s literally Steve railing you on the pool table, holding onto your tits like they’re his lifeline and you’re just screaming.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!”

“MY EYES! MY EYES!”

“THAT’S MY MOTHER’S FUCKING POOL TABLE!”

“GET IT OFF! OFF!”

Silence falls in the room like a ton of bricks when the footage disappears.

“Pepper, you have bleach, right?”

TAGS

@chaneajoyyy​ @marvelmaree​

[jamaisjoons]

peach parfait I | ksj

⏤ 𝚜 𝚞 𝚖 𝚖 𝚊 𝚛 𝚢 : you and seokjin have always been at odds as the top two chefs at big hit academy of culinary arts. enemies to lovers au

⏤ 𝚙 𝚊 𝚒 𝚛 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 : seokjin x reader

⏤ 𝚐 𝚎 𝚗 𝚛 𝚎 : fluff, smut, slight? angst

⏤ 𝚠 𝚘 𝚛 𝚍 𝚌 𝚘 𝚞 𝚗 𝚝 : 19k

⏤ 𝚠 𝚊 𝚛 𝚗 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 𝚜 : female solo masturbation, slight nipple play, sex toys - ring vibrator

⏤ 𝚊 / 𝚗 : hello demons!!!!!! welcome to my first ever ksj au!!! it finally happened wow,,,, honestly this wasn’t supposed to be this long but here we are,,,, 19k in on the first part whoops. there will be a second part out [hopefully soon, i already have about 8k of it written] but until then, i hope you enjoy this! // lowkey this was inspired by shokugeki no soma skfjak

⏤ Part I | Part II ⇥ complete

“Kim Seokjin, a perfect 100!” Head Chef Hobeom called out.

Your entire body stiffened as if you had just been drenched in ice-cold water. You could feel the tell-tale scowl already forming on your face, your features twisting in annoyance as you took in the sight of Kim Seokjin’s smug face. His dark, slightly wavy locks fell loosely around his stupid forehead and he was dressed casually, in a plain white t-shirt, further accentuating his unnecessarily broad shoulders. Light wash jeans hung low on his hips, the material of the denim tugging around his ridiculously toned thighs. Not that you were admiring him. No. You would never admire your greatest rival. Which is exactly what he was. Your gaze fell back to his face, his nose slightly scrunched, luscious lips pulled into a half-smirk and eyes shining with mirth.

That smug bastard.

You could hear the screams and cheers from all the female students, and even some male, as Seokjin bowed to the rest of the class while you angrily threw your spatula down. You grumbled to yourself and began cleaning up, ignoring the cheers for Seokjin as best as you could. You knew why you lost. You had made a stupid, rookie mistake. One that you were now kicking yourself for. How the hell had you managed to forget to season the meat before cooking? It was probably the most fundamental step of any recipe and yet in the heat of the moment and under pressurised circumstances, you had completely neglected that crucial step and it had cost you the exam. Well not really, you still passed but Seokjin had scored higher. And now, Seokjin would be able to brag until the next time the two of you faced off. From the corner of your eye, you watched Seokjin saunter over to you and immediately growled to yourself, eyes narrowing.

Great, now he was here to gloat.

“Hey ____, that’s what, my three hundred and fifty-eighth win? Who’s winning right now? Cause according to my count it’s me” Seokjin taunts, his tone laced in both arrogance and glee. You could feel your eyebrow twitch, taking a deep breath before turning around, your eyes in slits as you scrutinised his smug face.

“Until the next round. You forget before this round, we were both tied at three hundred and fifty-seven” You spit out, tone saturated with hate and loathing. Seokjin, however, is unbothered, letting out a little snicker.

“Yeah we were both tied but you could have won this round. I can’t believe you lost because you didn’t salt the meat. Slacking a bit, aren’t you? Isn’t seasoning the most basic rule of cooking? Do you need to go back to the first year? Or if you really want, I could teach you? I think you’d benefit from my classes. We could call it, cooking for dummies: back to the basics” Seokjin jeers and you let out a low growl, slamming your most prized knife back into its case as you continue cleaning up your station. You’re trying not to let his words get to you, but you can’t help it. He’s completely right. You could have won if you had simply seasoned the god damned meat.

“Oh, bite me Seokjin, we’ve all done it once or twice. Or did you forget the time you forgot the soy sauce in a chow mein? A dish which is basically just noodles, bean sprouts and soy sauce. So, do us both a favour and kindly fuck off, I have pastry class now,” You sneer and Seokjin laughs as you grab your knife set before storming away. You can feel his eyes on your back the entire time, the hairs on your neck standing in irritation. You can still hear his stupid squeaky laugh up until you leave the class.

Once out, you take in a deep breath and calm yourself down, face pulled into a frown. There were many reasons you had lost that match. Many reasons the flavours of the dish didn’t tie in together as well as they should have. The biggest reason, was, of course, the lack of salt on the meat resulting in a bland tasting dish despite the number of spices and herbs mixed into the sauce. You had also overcooked the butter, leading to a slightly smoked flavour that offset the dish and because of that, you hadn’t been able to sauté the onions long enough and thus they weren’t caramelised enough to compliment the beef. You continued muttering what had gone wrong with the dish to yourself, noting them down so that next time you could and would beat Seokjin at his own game.

“Hey, you okay?” Jimin asked and you snapped out of your daze, slightly startled by your best friend appearing out of nowhere. You looked around, brows knitting in bewilderment as you wonder just when you’d gotten to class. Had you been lost in your thoughts that long?

“Huh? Yeah, sorry. I was lost in my own head” You said as you popped your knives under the counter and slipped your apron on, washing your hands before taking your place at one of the many counters in the room, awaiting the chef’s arrival.

“It seemed like you were mumbling about food. Oh wait, today was your exam with Jin-hyung wasn’t it? I take it, it didn’t end well” Jimin says and you scowl at him.

“I forgot to salt the fucking meat. And as usual, perfect Kim Seokjin’s dish was faultless. So yeah, that ass won” You lament and Jimin’s face scrunched in concern.

“You did pass the exam though yes?” Jimin asked, worry laced in his tone and you quickly shot him an exasperated look. Of course, you had passed. Failure in exams resulted in expulsion, no questions asked.

That was the reason Big Hit Academy of Culinary Arts was the best culinary school in the entirety of Asia. Less than 5% of the students who enter graduate. The Head Chef’s at the school pushed until you were tired and pushed even more after. The academy had no place for people who couldn’t stand the heat of the kitchen nor the pressure or competition. And you’d be damned if you weren’t in the top 5% of graduates. Of course, graduating paid off handsomely. Graduates from Big Hit were guaranteed to get jobs in the most prestigious of restaurants across the world. The Big Hit name carried weight; hell, even if you made it to the third year before failing would guarantee you a job in a high class, albeit small restaurant.

“Jimin, if I failed, I wouldn’t be here. I passed the exam. I came second, after stupid Seokjin. I scored a 95 whereas he scored a perfect 100” You replied and Jimin beamed at you, his eyes scrunching up into half-moons.

“That’s great ____! You should be really proud of that” Jimin says cheerily but at the annoyance still carved in your face, he deflates, rolling his eyes at you in exasperation.

“It’s in 90s ____. Some people would kill for that score. Some people never even reach that boundary, you and Seokjin-hyung are the only two to consistently get scores over 90 so stop pouting. Besides, I don’t understand why you both still go head to head. You’re trained in completely different backgrounds. Of course, Jin-hyung was going to do better on the exam. He’s a rotisseur. Someone who is trained and specialised in cooking meat and savoury dishes. You’re a god damn pâtissier. You bake bread and make desserts. They’re two completely different ballparks” Jimin, forever the voice of reason, argues and you shrug.

“It’s just always been like that. Ever since we both entered this academy. Besides we didn’t always specialise in what we do now. There was a time when we both cooked whatever. We still do. We just tend to focus on our specialities more now. You know the best chefs are experts in all disciplines and masters in their own discipline,” You refute and Jimin nods, barely paying attention to you now.

“Please don’t throw Headmaster Bang’s words at me. I still can’t believe he does that exact same speech at the start of every year. But I guess you’re correct. Besides, according to everyone, including the head chefs, you both are the best chefs this academy has seen in years. It’s alright though, the next exam is a sweet based one isn’t it? He’s never beaten you on one of those,” Jimin says offhandedly, as he too starts preparing for class and you nod.

It was true.

Ever since you entered Big Hit Academy of Culinary Arts those three years ago, you and Seokjin had gone head to head countless – except of course you both kept count – of times. But it was almost predictable at this point. If the exam had anything to do with baked goods or desserts, you would score nothing less than a perfect 100. You were currently unrivalled in the academy when it came to desserts. However, the same could be said for Seokjin and any meat dishes. He too had yet to score less than a perfect 100 on any of his dishes that included meat. Hence, you both would win those respectively and those exams were almost predictable. However, there were anomalies. If either of you were in an exam for fish, sauces or any specific cuisines, it was anyone’s game. Sometimes Seokjin scored higher; sometimes you would. Hence, the two of you were tied at three hundred and fifty-seven wins each. That was until today. When Seokjin took the lead with his latest win.

You scowled once more.

Stupid Seokjin and his stupid pretty face and stupid cooking skills.

“Alright. Welcome to today’s exam. As mentioned before, the theme is Chantilly cream. You will find an assortment of ingredients at your counter. You may prepare whatever you want, so long as you only use the ingredients at your counter. You have two hours to complete your dishes. You may begin,” Head Chef Sejin calls out and you immediately begin looking at your ingredients. This was one of the hardest challenges; everyone was given ingredients and could prepare whatever you wanted. However, you were limited by your ingredient supply and variety.

Your eyes quickly scanned over all the ingredients; butter, flour, vanilla extract; strawberries; cream; chocolate; sugar. Damn no eggs. You discarded any recipe at the top of your head that would need eggs. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head and your eyes lit up with excitement. You quickly began gathering the ingredients before grabbing any equipment you’d need. You looked up briefly, taking in the sight of the other student chefs, panic etched into their faces. Your eyes fleetingly wandered over to Seokjin, who like you, had already begun grabbing ingredients. You scowled slightly before going through the recipe in your head.

You slowly began to work, beginning by creating your base. You submersed yourself into creating the dough, white dust puffing up in a cloud around you as you added the flour. Your shoulders relaxed, fingers moving in soft circles as you incorporated the butter into the flour. Briefly, you glanced up, slightly startled when you realised Seokjin was watching you work. As soon as your eyes made contact, he winked at you. You felt the vein in your head pop and immediately grew agitated. Sneering at him, you went back to focusing on your kneading, now a lot less gentle than before as you began pounding the dough, working out your frustration with Seokjin on it.

Realising the force behind your kneading, you quickly stopped, fearing that you’d overwork it resulting in a tough pastry. Wrapping it in clingfilm, you placed it into the fridge to cool before taking a deep breath. You wouldn’t allow Kim Seokjin to crawl under your skin. No matter how irritatingly handsome he was. Wait- where had that come from? You quickly shook your head, thinking over your recipe as you hurry to begin your next step lest you run out of time. You grabbed the strawberries, as needlessly red as Seokjin’s lips, chopping off the leaves before dumping them into a saucepan along with vanilla bean paste, a squeeze of orange juice and cinnamon. Your secret ingredients to enhance the flavour of the strawberry coulis and gain an edge over whatever Seokjin had planned.

You waited for the strawberry mixture to begin boiling, stirring continuously as it began to reduce. The task was mindless and involuntarily your thoughts wandered off to Seokjin, a frown marring your face. You couldn’t resist chancing another glance at him, brows furrowing when you realised he was placing cake tins into the oven. An eggless cake? You scoff haughtily. Most of the other students were also making eggless cakes. You turned your attention back to your saucepan, the strawberries were completely mushy and reduced, leaving a thick scarlet sauce. You grabbed a bowl and strained it, removing any clumps of skin or seeds and leaving a completely clear coulis. Placing it to the side, you checked your timer before grabbing your dough out of the fridge.

Moving onto your next step, you grabbed your previously abused dough from the fridge. The heels of your palm pressed into the soft, chilled dough as you began working it once again. Once you deemed it was ready, you grabbed the rolling pin and began rolling and folding it into what was to become your puff pastry. From your peripheral vision, you noticed that Seokjin was idly standing around, leaning against his counter in a completely relaxed position. Your brows furrowed, wondering just why he was sitting around doing nothing when the timer was still running. You cursed internally; why the hell were you so caught up in what Seokjin was doing? He was your rival. If he failed, it worked out better for you. But that didn’t sit well with you. You wanted to win on your own merit, wanted to be better than him because you were better; not because he threw the exam. You look up once again, locking eyes with him.

This time, when your eyes meet Seokjin simply stares. Against your will, you send him a questioning, albeit concerned look. Seokjin reels slightly in surprise before he composes himself. His hand moves and soon he’s blowing you a kiss causing you to roll your eyes at his antics. You hear the female students swoon, cheers surrounding the entire class causing you to roll your eyes. Seokjin simply ignored them, smirking at you before getting to work on whatever he needed to. Satisfied that he was taking this seriously, you turned back to your dough. Realising it was ready, the butter marbled perfectly through the flour; you wrapped it in cling film again before placing it in the fridge once again.

Taking a look at the timer, you realised you had just under an hour. Clearing up your counter hurriedly, you began preheating the oven. The last bits would undoubtedly be the easiest; just whip the cream with vanilla and sugar in order to satisfy the Chantilly cream requirement and you’d be golden. All of a sudden, your individual timer went off; you swiftly wipe your hands clean and pulled the dough from the fridge once again, this time rolling it out and cutting it into perfect rectangles, placing them into the oven. Then, you continued clearing up, realising Seokjin was doing the same.

Both of you had your bases in the oven, which meant, you’d both most likely finish around the same time. Although, he was a bit pressed for time. It’d most likely take him longer to assemble and decorate his cake than you would. You both had about forty-five minutes left. It was time to get serious. You pulled your pastry out of the oven, ensuring they were golden and crisp, but more importantly, cooked all the way through. You needed to cool them quick; you walked to the blast chiller, depositing your tray into the machine. You turned around and bumped into someone, immediately apologising before you looked up and realised it was Seokjin.

“Hey ____” Seokjin sing songs, looking down at you with a small smirk, his voice playful, and you instantly rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. You watch as he carefully places his tins into the machine, just under your tray. The two of you stay by the chiller, your arms crossed as you look around at all the other chefs, some of who were panicking as they ran out of time.

“Looks like we’re both going to be in the top again,” Seokjin says nonchalantly and you snort.

“When are we not at the top?” You snidely retort. It’s a rhetorical question considering both of you were always in the top and Seokjin knew that. Seokjin simply shrugs, looking back at you, his eyes glistening with something you just can’t seem to place. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume it was pride. But there was no reason for him to be proud of you. In fact, if it was pride, it’d mainly because he was proud of himself.

“So, what are you making? Didn’t look like a cake” Seokjin asks casually and you feel your eyebrow twitch. It seemed to do that a lot whenever he was involved.

“If you can’t tell then maybe you should just drop out” You sarcastically respond and Seokjin laughs in that squeaky, carefree way that he does, that leaves you wanting to punch him in the throat.

“Well I know you’re making a mille-feuille, I just thought you’d make something a bit more interesting, you know? I guess I overestimated your skills” Seokjin says nonchalantly and you can feel the nerve on your forehead throb in anger.

“Excuse me? Those are big words coming from someone making a cake” You retort and Seokjin shrugs.

“Yeah, maybe. But I’m not the pâtissier out of the two of us, am I?” He replies with a smirk and your fingers twitch, the urge to smack him coursing through your palms. How dare he? How dare he just come here and insult you like that!

“Anyway, my cakes should be cool now. See you at the end. Maybe I’ll win this round,” Seokjin says with a wink and your eyes widen before you let out an incredulous laugh.

“I don’t think so, Kim. You have yet to beat me when it comes to desserts” You replied smugly and Seokjin snickers, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“There’s a first time for everything. Maybe you’ll forget to add sugar to your dish, who knows” Seokjin taunts and you clench your jaw lest you scream at him.

That bastard.

As if you would ever make such a stupid mistake in your own discipline. That ass. One day you’d wipe that stupid smirk off of his stupidly pretty face. Really who was that stupidly pretty?!

You grab your tray from the blast chiller and stalk over to your counter, grumbling the entire time. You’d show him. You quickly whip up the Chantilly cream, ensuring it’s stiff but light and flavoured just right before you carefully begin assembling your mille-feuille. You place the first pastry layer on the presentation dish, dusting it with a light coating of icing sugar before pipping on the cream over, garnishing with the strawberries and drizzling a sparing layer of the coulis. Not too much; just enough to enhance the flavour but not enough to turn the pastry, that you worked so hard into making crispy and flaky, soggy. You continue layering until you hit the third and last layer.

You place the pastry gently on top, making sure all the edges line up. When satisfied, you pipe small dollops of cream, topping them off with strawberries and mint leaves to add some vibrant colours to your dish. You quickly glance at the time, smiling when you realise you have just enough to finish with a light dusting of icing sugar and cinnamon and then clear up so your counter is sparklingly clean. You finish up quickly and then gently cover up your dish. It’s a beautiful concoction of reds, greens, whites and golden brown. The dessert almost makes your mouth water and you know you’re sure to pass. It may not be extravagant but it was perfect.

“A minute left. Please start bringing your dishes up” Head Chef Sejin calls out and you grab your dish, walking up to the judges. You place yours down and bow, the chefs all smiling at you. From the corner of your eye, you see Seokjin bring up his own dish and briefly, very, very briefly you wonder what would happen if you just tripped him up. However, both of you believed in the integrity of healthy competition and neither of you had ever sabotaged each other before. So instead, you just glared at the huge expanse of the back of his shoulders as he walked up to the table, placing his own dish down.

Soon, other students began bringing up their dishes and you winced slightly at some of them. Even now, in the third year, people made stupid mistakes when cooking. It was why these exams took place, to put people under the time pressure and stress they’d face when in the kitchen of their own restaurants someday. One person had forgotten to cool down their cake and thus the cream was slowly melting. It seemed like another hadn’t had enough time to cook their cake, causing it to collapse in the middle. You grimaced at those two; a mishap that big was sure to lead in failure and as a result expulsion.

Sadly, Seokjin’s cake was as beautiful as your mille-feuille, with pristine piping, delectable, soft-looking peaks of Chantilly cream and a vibrant array of fruit from kiwis to summer berries. There wasn’t much you could fault him for in his presentation. Even when compared to your perfect dessert. The deciding factor would be the taste. You were sure of it.

The judging process slowly began, and slowly people were eliminated. The two who had panicked had received 0s like you had predicted. Other than that, the lowest score was 46 and the highest so far 78. And then, Head Chef Sejin looked at you and Seokjin. He regarded you both with smiles and you immediately feel nervous. Chef Sejin was currently the best pâtissier in Asia and he was your idol. No matter how many times he judged and approved of your work, you still got nervous, hoping it was up to his expectations.

“I take it you two are competing again?” Head Chef Sejin asks and both you and Seokjin nod, causing Chef Sejin to laugh. Your rivalry with Seokjin was widely known throughout the school, most people anticipating it. The Head Chefs even actively encouraged the friendly competition, sometimes pitting other students against each other in order to drive them further and give them a purpose, a reason to excel and do better than they already could. Of course, you and Seokjin had been non-stop competing for three years now.

“Alright then, Seokjin, I believe you are the current winner, from your last exam? Would you like to go first?” Chef Sejin asks and Seokjin nods. You watch with bated breath as Chef Sejin cuts up the cake, the judges oohing at the soft, airy texture of the sponge. How he managed that without eggs, you’d forever be surprised but you wouldn’t dare openly compliment him. The judges begin tasting small bites, all smiling and noting down their scores. They quickly look at each other, discussing the results and then Chef Sejin smiles at Seokjin.

“Truly, a beautiful sponge. Airy and soft, despite the lack of eggs provided. How did you manage this?” Chef Sejin asks and Seokjin smiles.

“I substituted the butter for oil to give the sponge a lighter texture and added both baking soda and baking powder with a little bit of lemon juice react with the two powders to make it airier,” Seokjin says simply and the corner of your lip twitches. Damn him.

“Ah, of course. A wonderful job, and 98, the highest score of the class so far. And now for ____ 's mille-feuille” Chef Sejin compliments Seokjin before looking at you kindly; however, your shoulders stiffen. That was an awfully high score. It meant you now had to score a 99 or perfect 100 in order to beat him. You could feel the hairs on your spine stand as you anxiously awaited the judging of your own dessert. You were almost sure it was perfect, to you it was. And granted, you’d never scored anything less than a perfect on a dessert or bread dish. But Seokjin was right. There was a first time for everything.

There could be a number of times in the future when your dish wouldn’t score a perfect. Today could be one of those times. You watched with bated breath as the judges cut up your mille-feuille, the pastry crackling under the knife before it glided through the cream and fruit. You sucked in a deep breath, watching as the judges daintily put a spoonful of the pastry and cream into their mouths. It was as if time moved slowly. Every chew, every ooh and ah. The palpitating of your heart pounded in your eardrums, your palms behind your back sweaty, wrists wringing nervously. Chef Sejin placed his fork down and then the judges began writing down their own scores. You can feel Seokjin near you but you’re too tense to even give him a second thought. You don’t notice the way he looks at you, a knowing look on his face. You don’t notice the way he lets out a small, displeased sigh before shaking his head.

“Once again ____, you’ve outdone yourself. This was… absolutely perfect. The texture of the pastry was crumbly and flaky, cooked to perfection. The cream soft but stiff and the sweetness of the strawberries are cut beautifully by the cinnamon and tanginess of the orange in the coulis. Truly a masterpiece. Congratulations, another perfect 100” Chef Sejin compliments and you release your breath, grinning brightly at the older man despite your still shaky hands. You quickly bow in thanks, your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you beam with pride. The chefs thank all the students before they begin leaving. You spin on your heels, grinning at Seokjin.

“Well, Seokjin. That brings us both to three hundred and fifty-eight. I believe that means it’s another tie. Of course, I’ll be sure to win the next round” You say and Seokjin looks down at you, his face blank. Your fists clench slightly because despite his blank expression, you can still see the slight disappointment in his eyes and you know it’s not because he lost.

“Any first-year could have made that. Like I said, I was hoping for something more. Besides, win? Lose? Who cares, at the end of the day, I still have this face. Therefore, who is the real winner here?” Seokjin says and with that, he walked away. You can feel your cheeks and ears burn with rage, your fists clenched on either side of your body. And that was exactly why you’d never compliment him on anything, his dishes, his looks or anything. Because not once, not a single time had he ever admitted your dishes were good or that you had done well. All he ever did was criticise you and your work.

God, you hated him.

Storming into your apartment, you slam the door shut, the vibrations reverberating through the room. You stomp into the living room, throwing your stuff haphazardly onto the sofa before making your way into your bedroom. You let out a frustrated scream, flinging yourself into the bed before kicking your legs rather childishly. You could not believe him. Where did he get off telling you that any first-year could have made your mille-feuille? It was perfect! You’d pay any first-year 500,000 won if they could replicate it!

You scowl into your pillow, eyes narrowed as your blood boils at the thought of Seokjin’s words. He was honestly so full of himself. You couldn’t wait to triumph over him and put him in his place. Granted, it would only last for a short time. But still! You were determined to come out on top. His words flash through your head once again and you let out another scream, this time muffled by your pillow. You grabbed your pillow and threw it against the wall, finally working out most of your frustration.

You sat up with a groan, a scowl still on your face. Your shoulders were tense and your back ached from standing up all day cooking. A shower, you decide, was the best course to work off not only the day’s grime but also to calm you down. You tut slightly at yourself, reprimanding yourself for allowing Seokjin to work you up so much. Getting off your bed, you stripped down to just your panties, exhaling with relief as soon as your breasts were out of the wretched cage that was your bra.

Stepping into the en-suite bathroom, you turned the shower on, letting it heat up for a few minutes before stepping in. With a loud sigh, you let the hot water run along your body. The heat of the water, powered with the steam, slowly worked your exhaustion and frustration out. You felt your sore muscles slowly relaxing, rolling your shoulders to remove the kinks. You lathered your body in soap, allowing the loofa to gently exfoliate your skin. It was almost ritualistic, with each stroke you could feel your ire at Seokjin slowly decreasing.

You spend another fifteen minutes under the shower, letting the hot water run over your body. Finally, when your fingers start pruning, you decide to step out. Wrapping a large fluffy terry cloth towel around yourself, you pad bag into your bedroom. As much as the shower has helped, you still can’t help but feel the slightest bit of tension persist in your muscles. Your eyes flick to beside your bed and you make a split-second decision. 

Crawling in bed, you made yourself comfy. You slowly unwrapped the towel from your body, dropping it to the floor. You shivered slightly, your nipples hardening from the cool air. The difference in temperate from the steamy bathroom to your cool bedroom was highly noticeable, especially considering you were completely naked. You relaxed further, sinking into your bed as you’re hand slowly drifted down to your stomach, working your way towards your naked sex. Your body was already slowly heating up and you can no longer register the chill of the room against your still slightly damp body.

Your fingers circled your belly button, your skin prickling under the sensation as you gradually lose yourself in the pleasurable haze, your breath hitching. Without a second thought, your hand slowly worked down towards your wettening pussy, letting out a low groan when your hand brushed lightly against your clit, the small bundle of nerves hardening against your hand. You loosely played with your slit, a finger barely dipping in before pulling out, spreading your wetness all over your lips.

You bit your lip at the sensation, needing more but wanting to draw out the feeling. Involuntarily, you rolled your hips, trying to get more friction against your hands, your breathing heavy now. Unconsciously, one of your hands moved to your breast and your eyes immediately slipped shut. You imagined a faceless man, with dark hair and broad shoulders hovering over you. You imagined it was his hand playing with your nipple instead, rolling your breast in his palms before flicking the nipple with his thumb. Vaguely, the man you’d imagined looked familiar to you, but in your lust induced haze, you didn’t care.

You moved your second hand to your other breast, lightly squeezing and massaging, pinching one nipple between your thumb and forefinger as the other continued rolling your other nipple. You let out a shuddering breath, hips now grinding against the bed as you pussy cried out for attention, weeping with your arousal. Your nipple aches against the hand pinching it, the delicious pain only making you cry out weakly at the sensation. You squeeze harder, twisting slightly and moaning at the sharper pain before releasing it. Desire burned in your veins, imagining the man squeezing even harder, wishing his puffy pink lips could wrap around them. Pink lips? When did the faceless man have lips?

Your mind floods with fervour, mouth dry as if all your wetness seeped from it towards your aching cunt. A wanton cry escapes your lips, your sex crying out to be touched, to give it some friction and relieve the ache deep within your cunt. You raise your knees slightly before spreading your thighs almost obscenely, shivering at the sensation of the cold air against your hot, needy pussy. Your fingers flit against the soft flesh of your sensitive thighs. You’re so close and you curse yourself for drawing out the pleasure for this long. You still imagine the man is over you; it’s him that’s teasing you and you now find yourself cursing him.

You gingerly move your fingers to your folds, back arching slightly. Your nerves are afire, your lust seeping into every pore in your body. Fingers slowly splay your pussy open, and you imagine it’s the faceless man’s crooked fingers instead of your own, shuddering once again at the cold air. The heady, musky scent of your arousal fills the room. Every one of your senses is clogged by desire; your arousal is so thick that you can both smell and taste it. You can feel the stickiness between your legs, your juices coating your thighs and you can hear the slight squelching of your pussy lips.

A prolonged, needy groan escapes your throat as your fingers finally come into contact with your hard clit. Your middle finger pushed down, pressing into the bundle and you exhale breathily, rolling it under the pad of your fingertip. Your finger slowly pushed down, spreading your lips and wetness coating your pussy before you curl your finger back towards your bud. You cry out again and again as you work your clit over and over again but you need more.

You blindly reach over to your bedside table, opening the draw as you continue playing with your clit. You open the drawer, reaching inside and feeling around until you touch the cool plastic of your vibrator ring. You claw at it, grabbing it before reluctantly removing your hand from your clit. You slip the ring onto your finger, before switching it on. Your hand hastily moves back to your sex and you cry out at the low reverberations of the vibrator strumming against your clit, eyes almost rolling back.

Your pussy is on fire, clenching and unclenching uncontrollably; your abdomen flips and tightens, your orgasm slowly nearing. But you’re still missing something. You let the vibrator rest against your clit, stimulating you over and over again, your heart beating rapidly, thundering in your ears. You suddenly plunge one finger into you, mewling at the sensation, imagining it was the man’s long crooked fingers instead, while simultaneously wishing your fingers were longer. Slowly, you press a second finger into you, wincing at the stretch before your mouth gapes open in pleasure. You imagine it’s the faceless man who is rapidly sinking two fingers into you, his plush lips pulled into a small smirk, nose slightly scrunched and strong, thick eyebrows furrowed as he brings you the most pleasure you’ve had in a while. You’re too lost in your own pleasure to even realise the faceless man’s features slowly forming.

Your cunt feels like velvet, gripping and rippling against your fingers, leaking with your arousal. Your hips grind down against your hand, thrusting into them as you force your clit harder against the vibrating ring, trying to press your fingers deeper into your cunt. You press a third finger in, wincing even more at the stinging sensation and the stretch but you need more and so you persevere against the pain, pushing deeper and deeper until your pussy swallows all three of your fingers. You almost shriek, pistoning them in harder, in and out, repetitively.

You grind harder and harder, moaning and groaning, eyes rolling back into your skull as you pant. Your orgasm is so close. Your pussy is dripping all over your hand and you’re sure you’ve left a slight puddle of your juices on your bedsheets but you don’t care. You push your hips harder once again and curl your fingers, pressing the pad against the rough skin of your g-spot. The overwhelming sensations of your thrusting fingers against the spongy highly sensitised skin inside you paired with the vibration against your clit has your legs trembling.

You feel yourself climbing higher and higher until finally, you release. You let out a stuttering scream. Your orgasm ricochets through you faster than you can process. You cry out louder, chasing your high and riding your fingers. Your walls ripple uncontrollably against your fingers, savouring the touch and high as you tremble and quake violently, legs spasming as you press the vibrator harder against your clit. You let the tide of your climax wash through you, carrying you along with the wave and drowning you in intoxication until you finally pull out, the sensitivity in your cunt too much to handle.

You breathe heavily, the buzzing of the vibrator still continuous as you come down from your high. You pant, your skin flushed and tingling from the post aftershocks of your orgasm, your sweat matted hair sticking to your forehead. Your brain slowly adjusts, pulling itself out of the lust-filled cloud it had found itself in. The man slowly faded from your mind’s eye. You let out a satiated sigh, wondering just who you had been imagining. Deciding not to dwell too much of it however, you slowly pull yourself under the covers, allowing sleep to take you.

It’s a week later when you see him. The exam period had ended and once again, the two of you were tied at three hundred and ninety-six each. You were getting frustrated which each and every win and loss. The balance had to tip in someone’s favour. You couldn’t keep winning and losing against him forever. You couldn’t tie forever. Someone had to give. You’re currently stood in the assembly area; you and the rest of the third-year students all gathered. A slight sense of dread fills you. You have no idea why you’ve all been gathered together, but it cannot be good. Headmaster Bang was known for throwing loops into the student’s schedules; planning hard tasks after exams to weed out the worst chefs and to have the top of the top chefs further excel.

“____!” Jimin called, running up to you with Jungkook and Taehyung in tow. You waved and smiled at the two of them. You were glad they had made it passed the exams. Jimin, was your best friend; the two of you as thick as thieves since your first class when Jimin had somehow preheated the oven too high, resulting in the glass shattering from heat and pressure. Don’t get it wrong, Jimin was a wonderful chef, albeit a bit clumsy. His own speciality was spice. The boy could create spicy foods that had your mouth screaming and your throat burning and yet you couldn’t help but spoon more mouthfuls as it was just that addicting. Jungkook was a ramen specialist. Give the boy some noodles and an array of ingredients and he could create a bountiful concoction of savoury flavours that would make anyone’s mouths water. Including yours. And finally, there was poor Taehyung.

You weren’t even sure how he’d managed to progress to the third year. He wasn’t bad per se but he wasn’t Academy level either. But somehow, he’d survived to the third year. His foods couldn’t rival with the top of the academy, but there was something about Taehyung’s food. It tasted like home. Kind of like a mother’s love. Homey and comforting. It may not have been perfect and he may not be at the top of the academy, but it was his. A style completely unique to Taehyung. The kind of comfort food you crave when sick or hungover, the food you crave after a broken heart, the food you crave when you miss home or your family. Soul food. That was Taehyung’s speciality.

The four of you stood quietly chatting amongst yourselves, wondering what Headmaster Bang had prepared for the third-year students. You continue looking around, realising that the exams had resulted in even more expulsions. At the start of your third year, there were roughly three hundred students still left and now, there were only about half of that, maybe a few more. The hair at the nape of your neck stands on edge and you feel the presence of someone behind you. You quickly turn around, yelping when you come face to chest with someone. You look up and almost growl when you’re met with Seokjin’s face. He’s surrounded by his best friends, Hoseok, Namjoon and Yoongi.

“Is there a reason you’re so close to me, asshole?” You scorn and Seokjin smirks down at you.

“Awfully hostile today, aren’t we ____?” Seokjin jests and you feel your eyebrow begin to twitch. Honestly, at this point, it was almost like a reflex whenever he was concerned.

“Can we not have a single time when we meet that you both don’t fight?” Namjoon asks and you pout. Namjoon was similar to Taehyung, as in no one had any idea how he’d managed to make it into the third year with next to no cooking skills. He was clumsy, often hurt himself in the kitchen and made stupid mistakes like the time he put his hand in boiling water to check if his udon noodles were done. However, if there was one thing Namjoon was good at, it was leading. He was incredibly intelligent with vast amounts of charisma and patience, all which made him excellent at any leadership role. Consequently, that was why he was training to be a restaurant manager rather than a chef. The boy couldn’t cook to save his life, but no one could run and lead a restaurant better than he could.

“He started it!” You childishly reply and Hoseok chuckles, shaking his head while Yoongi huffs.

“You’re not six ____,” Yoongi reprimands and once again you pout. Yoongi was a master fermenter. Anything from alcohol to cheeses, if you could ferment it, Yoongi would master it and ensure that anything he fermented was the highest quality.

“It’s not like Jin-hyung doesn’t act six himself whenever ____ is concerned” Hoseok defends and you quickly send him an appreciative glance, causing him to wink at you. Hoseok, for as bright and bubbly as he was, was a demon in the kitchen. Specifically, if it included seafood. He could butcher a hanging monkfish with precision unlike any other and deshell and plate a lobster blindfolded. The man was legendary when it came to seafood.

See the worst thing about Seokjin, were his friends. Not because you hated them or anything, your rivalry was with Seokjin and Seokjin only. Your hatred stemmed from the fact that they were also your friends. The issue was that both his friendship group and yours were pretty damn integrated, meaning that even outside of class you had to sometimes see and interact with him. Although, most of those interactions ended up with either the both of you challenging each other to another cook-off or you screaming and stomping away from how ridiculously annoying he could be. Before either you or Seokjin can retaliate, you notice everyone begin to stand straighter. You quickly turn back around to the podium, watching all the academy head chefs begin bowing as Headmaster Bang walks onto the stage. You take a deep breath, steeling in all your nerves for whatever he was about to announce.

“Good afternoon. You’re all probably wondering why, just after your last exams, I’ve gathered all third years here. Well, that is because passing those exams means that you are one step closer to your goals. Graduating from Big Hit Academy of Culinary Arts. For decades, my family has cultivated the best chefs in Asia through this academy. This academy has a reputation for producing the best of the best. However, that comes at a price. The exams are increasingly difficult and any failures result in immediate expulsion. However, this process has led to the production of world-class chef graduates. Congratulations to all of you who have made it here today. But, your assessment doesn’t end there. With the end of your exams, comes your next challenge” Headmaster Bang begins and as soon as the words leave his mouth, you hear everyone begin to groan.

“You are all third years, soon to graduate. However, we cannot let you graduate without first-hand experience of working in a restaurant. Therefore, you will all be paired up and placed in a restaurant for a week. Each restaurant has a different passing criterion, meaning the condition to pass in one restaurant will be different from the condition to pass in another. Anyone who fails to meet their criteria will fail and be expelled. Pairings are based on your performance within the academy within the last three years. Now, we will begin calling out your pairings along with the restaurant you will be working at” Headmaster Bang concludes and you let out a little sigh, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to catch a break for the next week at least.

Your small group of friends listen as names are called out along with pairings. Namjoon and Taehyung are paired together, which makes sense considering both of them somehow fail half their classes; Namjoon due to his lack of cooking skills – knowledge only helps so much – and Taehyung because of how nervous he can get during exams. Jimin and Hoseok are also paired off together with Yoongi and Jungkook making up another pair. You snicker slightly, wondering which idiot would be stuck with Seokjin considering all your friends are now paired up. You grin mirthfully when Headmaster Bang calls out Seokjin’s name, listening eagerly for the name of his poor, poor partner.

“Kim Seokjin and _____ _____, you will be in Hunan, a small Chinese restaurant. Please see head chef Hobeom for details” Headmaster Bang calls out and you immediately pale when your name is called out. Now that you thought about it, of course, it was you. Your grades were only matched by Seokjin so of course, it was you who was his poor, poor partner.

“Well, guess it’s you and me partner” You hear Seokjin snigger against your ear and immediately feel despair wash over you at his overly pleased tone.

This was, undoubtedly, going to be the worst week of your life.

A couple days later, you find yourself staring curiously at the restaurant your challenge would be taking place at. The academy had arranged for you and Seokjin to stay in a nearby hotel considering the restaurant was pretty far from campus. However, the more you look at the restaurant, the more you’re confused. It’s completely empty. At first, you had thought that perhaps it was just closed; but that wasn’t the case. The sign read open, the lights were on and you could see the staff milling about idly inside, doing nothing as they stared out the window. You frowned slightly before checking the time. It read 7:30pm, which was prime time for a restaurant to be busy. You looked around, the streets were bustling and other restaurants were full of happy customers. So why was this one completely empty?

“Weird isn’t it? I wonder why it’s empty” a voice says from right beside your ear and you immediately jump, almost screaming at the sudden presence of someone next to you. Seokjin lets out a shrill laugh, shoulders shaking as he watches you glare at him.

“Don’t fucking do that you ass!” You reprimand with a glower, Seokjin shrugging.

“Not my fault you weren’t paying attention. I did say hi, you just weren’t listening” Seokjin says and a small part of you wants to slap him but you know that won’t get you anywhere. So instead, you take a deep breath and calm yourself down.

“Whatever. Let’s go” You say, approaching the restaurant. The two of you enter, the staff immediately standing with bright, hopeful grins as one of the wait staff approaches both of you with menus.

“Hello! Welcome to Hunan! Table for two?” The man asks with a bright smile. So, the emptiness of the restaurant didn't have anything to do with the customer service then. You look at him sheepishly before bowing.

“We apologise, we’re not here to dine. We’re the students from Big Hit Academy, we’re here to work in your restaurant for a week” You say apologetically and the staff deflate immediately.

“I see. Let me go get the owner” The waiter says and you nod before watching him disappear into the back. A couple moments later, he returns, this time with a young, slender woman.

“Hello! You must be ____ and Seokjin! Thank you so much for coming. I’m Wei Meilin, but you can call me Mei. I’m both the owner and the chef of Hunan” She says, greeting you both with a bow. You and Seokjin both introduce yourselves with a small bow too.

“How can we help you?” Seokjin asks and Mei sighs, looking around forlornly.

“As you can see, my restaurant is completely empty. This has been happening for a while actually. You see, I was gifted this restaurant by my parents because it’s been my lifelong dream to own an authentic Chinese restaurant. It’s even in a prime location and the restaurant is newly renovated. But I can’t seem to draw in customers at all. That’s where you guys come in. I need help to bring in customers” Mei says and you immediately blanch. So, your entire challenge was to prevent a restaurant from going bankrupt and closing down? How the hell were you supposed to do that?

“We’ll try our hardest! But first, do you have any idea why the restaurant could be failing?” Seokjin asks and you gape at him, completely agog. Did he really believe there was a chance the two of you could save this place? You were just students, granted at the top of your class in the best culinary academy in Asia, but still, this seemed almost like an impossible task.

“Honestly, it could just be due to the competition. When I first opened, we had customers who wanted to try the new restaurant and business was good at first. But considering there are a number of Chinese restaurants around here, we just started losing customers until it became like this” Mei says, looking slightly downcast. Your heart gripes for her and you send her a reassuring smile, solidifying your resolve.

“We’ll help you in any way we can! By the end of this week, your restaurant will be back on its feet!” You say, determination sparkling in your eyes. Mei’s eyes widen and she immediately nods, fists balling up as she pumps them.

“I’ll show you both to the kitchen! I don’t know how I can help you because I’ve tried everything, but if you have any ideas please let me know! I’ll be in the office going over the books” Mei says before leaving you and Seokjin to yourselves. As soon as she leaves, you let out a sigh; glowering at Seokjin.

“What’s your issue?” Seokjin asks causing you to frown.

“What do you mean what’s my issue? Do you honestly think we could do this?” You ask and Seokjin’s left eyebrow rises.

“You’re the one who promised we’d get the restaurant back on its feet” Seokjin points out.

“Only because you said we’d try our hardest! We’re students, how are we supposed to stop a restaurant going bankrupt?” You snapped.

“It doesn’t matter, does it? Because this is our task. If we don’t complete it, we fail and both get expelled. And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be expelled when graduation is so near” Seokjin says simply and immediately your anger deflates, knowing he was correct.

“Uh whatever, let’s just figure out the problem” You replied, taking a seat at one of the counters. Seokjin takes a seat beside you, flicking through the recipe book Mei had most likely left out for the two of you to browse through.

“Could it be the menu?” You asked curiously, peering over his shoulder to peep at the different recipes.

“No,” Seokjin says, shutting your question down immediately. You clench your fists, ire rising as you grow agitated at his short response. However, you take a deep breath, knowing that you needed to somehow work with him in order to complete the test set by your academy.

“And why is that? You grit out and Seokjin shows you Mei’s recipes. You quickly skim through them, a small frown marring your face when you reach the end.

“See? Her recipes are good. In fact, they’re great. Any of these dishes would be wonderfully flavoured. The spices are harmonious with each other and if the meat or vegetables are cooked to perfection, then she should have no issue with her actual food. It’s not the menu that’s the problem” Seokjin says matter of factly and you grimace.

“Yes, thank you, I’m not completely incompetent, I got that” You mutter under your breath even though you know he can hear you.

“Never said you were incompetent” Seokjin deadpans.

“You’ve never said I was competent either” You rebuke, Seokjin’s mouth quirks slightly before he shrugs you off. You sincerely hated how much he did that.

“If it’s not the menu, then maybe the location?” You ask and once again Seokjin shoots you down as soon as the words escape your lips.

“No. This is a prime location, she shouldn’t have problems with it, especially enough to be a completely deserted restaurant. You saw the number of people outside. The streets were busy” Seokjin recounts. You clench your fists tight, nails digging into your palms as he once again shuts you down.

“Then it has to be the competition like she said” You grit out through clenched teeth. This time Seokjin sighs, looking at you stoically.

“No. There are multiple Chinese restaurants, they’re all competing with each other. Why is it only Hunan that’s completely empty? It doesn’t make sense” Seokjin says calmly and this time, your fists bang into the table, startling him.

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin asks as you glower at him.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?! You! That’s what’s wrong. You keep shutting down my suggestions. If it’s not any of that then what could be the issue? Considering you keep saying no to my suggestions, it means you have to know right? You know what’s wrong? Because you’re so much better than me. So, go on. What is it? What’s the problem Mr-I’m-Better-Than-You? Tell me so you can brag about how you figured it out before me and gloat about how much better of a chef than me you are” You finally blow up, unable to contain yourself anymore. Seokjin reels, baulking at you.

“Where is this coming from? Firstly, I’m not shutting you down, I’m just telling you that it couldn’t be the problems you raised. Was I being difficult or unreasonable? Or did I not give you valid reasons as to why the issues with the restaurant couldn’t be what you thought? Secondly, I have never once said I was better than you, nor have I ever thought it, so I have no idea where you got those ideas from” Seokjin says calmly and you let out a humourless laugh.

“Oh please. Don’t act like you haven’t. Of course, you think you’re better than me. That’s why you never compliment my dishes, that’s why we have this stupid rivalry where we continuously try to beat each other. Because you think you’re better than me. Because you think my desserts and dishes suck. Because you think your cooking is better than mine!” You exploded, pointing an accusatory finger at Seokjin.

"Is that why you think I don't compliment your dishes? Have you really deluded yourself that much that you think I don't compliment you because I'm better than you?" Seokjin questions, a mixture of disbelief and incredulity marring his face.

"Well, what else could it be? You always look disappointed every time I score higher on an exam. That's the reason for our rivalry, right? Because you're upset I beat you even though you think you're a better chef than I am?" You scoff. Seokjin shakes his head, letting out a little exasperated sigh.

"Is that the reason you're always so hostile towards me? Because you think that I think I'm better than you?" Seokjin asks, tone calm as he looks at you, completely bewildered.

"I mean... yes? Why else?" You say, now more confused than angry. Why was he just randomly bringing this up? What else could it have been? Your entire rivalry stemmed from how much he grated your nerves. From how he thought he was better than you. It's the reason you had started competing all those years ago. No one rubbed you the wrong way like Seokjin did.

"Okay. Well, let's get something straight. I don't think I'm better than you. Nor have I ever thought that. That's not the reason I'm disappointed nor is that the reason for our rivalry, at least not in my case. I don't understand how you've managed to twist this so much. Here I thought you got mad because we always drew or because we've always been around the same level and you wanted to do better than me. But clearly, that's not the case. If I had realised it earlier, I would have set you straight" Seokjin says; your brows immediately furrow, your back straightening as you regard him with scepticism.

"Well, then what's the reason?" You snap impatiently. You watch as Seokjin's shoulder slump slightly before he turns back to the menu, flicking through it idly.

"I have never once thought that you were beneath me, or that I was better than you. In fact, it's the opposite. I consider us both equals. You, as a chef, are entirely on my level. No one else could rival me the way you do, no one else could keep up with me the way you do. That's the reason I compete with you. Because you keep me on my toes. Because you make me a better chef. I like competing with you because you inspire me to do better, to make my dishes that bit more delicious, to make them a bit more appetising. No one motivates me like you do. No one makes me want to cook or be a better chef than you do" Seokjin starts and with each and every one of his words you're left astounded.

You're completely speechless, unable to reply or even say anything. Because really, what could you say to that? The entire time he speaks, he doesn't look at you but you see his ears turn from their lightly tanned shade to a bright red; a clear sign that he's embarrassed, even if it's not apparent on his face. You startle slightly, since when did you pay enough attention to Kim Seokjin to be able to read him like that?

"And the reason behind my disappointment every time you score higher has nothing to do with me thinking someone worse than me beat me. It's everything to do with how despite the fact that I consider you to be on my level, you have no faith in yourself. Have you ever realised how much you rely on others to compliment your dishes? How much you care about what the Head Chef's think? Okay sure, their words mean something as they're examining us. But it's like… if they said anything bad about your dish that you'd completely fall apart. You're entirely too reliant on what other people think of your desserts and I don’t like that. It disappoints me that my rival, someone who can keep up with me, someone I consider equal to me, cares so much about another person’s opinion. It annoys me that you don't have confidence in your own dishes" Seokjin continues; you take in a sharp breath, nervously shifting now. He turns towards you, staring at you straight and making you gulp.

There's a certain fire behind his eyes, a slight intensity that has you on edge. Because you know he's right. You never were confident in your dishes. You always focused too much on the what ifs. What if it was overly sweetened? What if you hadn't whipped the cream to perfection. What if you overworked the dough and the bread turned out to be hard and chewy rather than soft and fluffy like you wanted it? Often, you were held back by your own securities. Sometimes, you'd panic during exams and need to take a deep breath even though history has proven that you were at the top of Big Hit Academy. That is unless Seokjin was involved. The epiphany comes as a slight shock to you.

"Except for when you're in an exam with me. You're never as sure in your own dishes unless you're up against me. You're always confident and you believe that you can score a better grade than me. That makes me happy. It makes me happy that somehow you have enough confidence in yourself to trash talk and tell me that you're the better chef. But then the judging begins, and you turn back into that anxious ball of stress, so worried that you may not score high enough or that you may fail. Why is that? Why do you, the joint top chef with me, worry so much about failing? When have you ever scored a grade lower than a 90? I hate it. I hate that you rely on others opinions. Yes, as chefs we cook for other people. But what do other people's opinions matter when you're not confident in your own dessert or own dish? You need to learn to rely on yourself. You're only ever confident with me because your annoyance for me apparently outweighs your insecurities. But I want to see that in you always, in any exam. I want to see you be more confident in yourself, as a chef" Seokjin finishes and you're entirely blown away by his sudden tangent.

Your heart is palpitating in your chest as you realise that Seokjin was entirely correct. You were only ever confident with him, how had you never realised that? But more importantly, how much had Seokjin been paying attention to you to have realised that before even you had? You think back to all the times you had caught Seokjin watching you during any exams you'd both had together. Previously, you'd always believed that he was trying to unnerve you or trying to get under your skin, but now you wonder if he was simply watching you. If he was simply learning about you. You have no idea why, but the thought of it causes your heart to race even quicker, your face heating up.

"I- I didn't know that" You replied quietly, unable to look him in the eye. For three years you had hated Seokjin because you thought that he mocked you. Because you thought he thought he was better than you. You had always considered your rivalry something where you had to beat him, where you had to come up on top. Never had you thought of it like Seokjin had; as a way to make you a better chef. But now that you thought about it, it was true. Just like Seokjin, no one motivated you to do better. You always wanted to beat him and in doing so, you always wanted to experiment and strive to be a better chef. For three years you had hated Seokjin for reasons you had clearly deluded yourself into believing. But now, that wasn't the case. You had no idea what to say or how to respond.

"It's late. Why don't we call it a night?" You suddenly say, pushing your chair back as you abruptly get up. Seokjin jerks at the sound of your chair scraping against the linoleum tiled floor. He watches as you run out the kitchen, brows furrowed, wanting to call out to you. But you’re long gone.

You hurriedly walked through the restaurant, bowing to the servers and staff before quickly exiting. You take in a deep breath, Seokjin's words running through your head at a mile a minute. Your hand moves to your chest, palm flat as you try and still your racing heart. Confusion clouds your every fibre, as you ponder his words. Really what the hell was his problem? How dare he simply confuse you like that? You had spent three years hating him and now what? You knew very well that you couldn't hate him, not when he confessed that he didn't think he was better than you. Because now your hate isn’t justified and if you continued being hostile, it’d just be because you were being petty. You take another deep breath, once again trying to still your rapidly beating heart to no avail. Why did he have to mess you up and confuse you like that? And why the hell was your heart racing so much?

Damn Kim Seokjin.

He really was an ass.

The next day you walk into the restaurant, this time a lot calmer than you had been the night before when you'd all but run out on Seokjin after his confession. You hadn't even waited for him to join you, instead, racing back to the hotel as quickly as you could. You were still somewhat confused about where you now stood with Seokjin. You'd hated him for years and you knew you couldn't just continue hating him. Not when he had inadvertently made you a better chef than you thought. But you couldn't suddenly be best friends with him either, thus leaving you in a weird place where he was concerned. So, with determination coursing through your veins, you decide that you'd be civil. You enter the kitchen, noting that Seokjin is already there. Once again, he has the restaurant's recipe book out but this time, you note, he also has other pieces of scrap paper around him.

"Hey," Seokjin greets and you smile shortly, greeting him back. A large part of you feels completely awkward; this is foreign ground. You'd never been civil to Seokjin, much less had a pleasant conversation with him. But now, looking back at it, that was more your own fault than anything considering you’d usually be the first to get agitated. Of course, it didn't help that Seokjin taunted you either. But more often than not, you'd be the one who'd start the arguments.

"Hi. What's this?" You ask, pointing towards the papers littered around him.  The words are slightly stilted and your tone more than awkward but you remind yourself that you'd be polite and try and work things out with him.

"I visited a few restaurants nearby and took some notes. I think I figured out the problem" Seokjin says. You look at him with wide eyed wonder, quickly approaching him. You skim through the pieces of paper around him, realising they have restaurant names and then a few dishes under the name. With a frown, you realise that on each piece of paper there's one dish name circled.

"What's the issue?" You ask, taking a seat next to him.

"Signature dishes. Each and every restaurant around here has a signature dish that their restaurant specialises in. Hunan doesn't have that. I think that's the issue. A lot of the dishes between each restaurant are the same as Hunan's. But the others have a speciality that draws their customers in" Seokjin explains and your eyes bug out of your skull.

“That makes sense! That’s probably why other people are drawn to the other restaurants. If most of the menu is the same, there’s no reason to go to one over the other. But having a signature dish gives a restaurant a certain edge because no one can replicate that specific dish” You quickly respond, catching onto Seokjin’s explanation.

“Exactly and therefore since Hunan doesn’t have one, there’s no reason to come here. Especially when they could get any dishes on this menu at the other restaurants” Seokjin finishes.

“Wow, okay so we should create a signature dish for Hunan? What do you think we should do?” You ask and Seokjin lets out a small sigh, looking up at the ceiling as he ponders the thought.

“Well it needs to be something we can both contribute to, so desserts are out. We probably need something that includes both dough and something with meat. But nothing comes to mind right now and we also need to be sure other restaurants don’t have the same dish. I think we need to go around. I only managed to look at a couple restaurants before I had to be here. Do you want to go check the others out with me?” Seokjin asks, turning his gaze towards you.

“That sounds like a plan. Are we gonna sit in and try dishes or?” You question and Seokjin stares at you blankly.

“Why?”

“Well, it gives us time to look at the menu in more detail but also to check out their specialities, right? It’ll give us ideas for Hunan’s speciality if we try their food too” You explain, Seokjin nodding enthusiastically.

“That sounds like a really good idea. Come on, let’s go” Seokjin says, immediately grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the kitchen.

A few hours later, you find yourself treading besides Seokjin. The two of you had been to various restaurants around Hunan, and it was safe to say that you were more than full. In fact, you were sure the two of you had overeaten and you could feel your body becoming lethargic, needing a post food nap. You let out a slight yawn causing the man walking beside you to giggle. You felt yourself grow slightly agitated, elbowing him for mocking you. Although, even you could tell it had lost its usual angry lustre, now being more playful than anything.

“Sorry, you just look so cute yawning,” Seokjin says from beside you. His words are entirely nonchalant and he says them as if it’s no big deal but your entire body freezes and you instantaneously stop, gaping at his back as he continues walking. He gets a few steps ahead of you before realising you were no longer beside him. Seokjin turns around, raising his brow at you; silently questioning why you were no longer walking.

“What’s wrong?” He asks and you immediately close your jaw, shaking your head furiously as you stalk towards him. Your face is heated from his casual compliment and internally you curse him for his confusing words. You were rivals, why the hell was he calling you cute all of a sudden?

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing” You answer quickly, indignation lacing your tone. Seokjin stares at you in confusion before shrugging it off, chalking it up to one of your usual moods around him. You quickly catch up to him, but your pace is brisk and Seokjin is left reeling from your sudden mood change. He quickly thinks back to what he could have done to cause you to behave the way you are when it suddenly dawns on him. His entire face lights up, an impish smile on his face as he looks down at you.

“Are you embarrassed because I called you cute?” He asks slyly and your blood freezes before you shake your head furiously.

“No! Of course not! Why would I care what you think? Me? Embarrassed? Ha! Absolutely not. I��m not embarrassed that you called me c-c-cute. No, absolutely not!” You rapidly blurt out, flailing your arms around you. Seokjin watches you with poorly masked amusement and as soon as you stutter out your final words, you quickly catch yourself.

“Right, of course, you’re not,” Seokjin says, a knowing smile on his face. You let out a small scowl before clearing your throat.

“We don’t have a lot of time. Come on, let’s get back so we can brainstorm new ideas for Hunan’s speciality” You say quietly, tucking your hair behind your ear before once again stalking off.

“Cute” Seokjin chuckles, watching your retreating figure before jogging to catch up with you.

Another few hours later, the two of you find yourself in your hotel room. Seokjin is sat on the floor, leaning against your bed with a cushion in his lap while you lie on the bed beside him. You’ve both got various recipe cards, scrap paper with a mix of yours and Seokjin’s notes scrawled on them and various snack wrappers littered around you. Both your hair is messy from running your hands through it as you brainstormed different ideas but nothing was clicking so far.

“How about a signature hotpot?” Seokjin suggests and you shake your head once again, pointing towards a scrap piece of paper.

“There’s literally an entire restaurant dedicated to hotpot,” You remarked, Seokjin groaning.

“That was such a good idea. Everyone loves hotpot” He comments and you snort.

“Agreed, hotpots are amazing. But how was it a good idea? What would I have contributed?” You question and Seokjin shrugs.

“I don’t know, the noodles?” He jokes and you playfully smack the back of his head.

“You know I’m not a noodle expert. They don’t count as part of my discipline” You point out, causing him to sigh. He throws his head back, neck rested on your bed as he stares at the ceiling.

“Are we ever going to find something? The more I think about it, the more I think that our disciplines are complete opposites. Is there something that we could both create together?” Seokjin mumbles, more to himself than anything. You share in his slightly dejected thoughts. The number of Chinese restaurants around meant that there were very few things that weren’t already specialities and then if you added that you both needed to contribute, it was even slimmer to find a perfect dish. You quickly glanced over to the clock on your bedside table, before exhaling deeply.

“I think it’s time to call it a night. we’re both exhausted and we’ve been at this for hours. It may help to get a good night’s sleep and looking at this with fresh eyes in the morning” You say, Seokjin nodding as he yawns loudly. You watch his lips in a slight trance, the way they stretch out before returning to their usual plush and puffy state. Briefly, you wonder if they feel as soft as they look before shaking your head. You look away, gaping at the wall. Just how tired were you that your thoughts were straying to completely unnecessary and uncharted territory?

“That sounds like a good plan. I’ll see you tomorrow then” Seokjin says, grabbing the snack wrappers before standing to his full height. Your neck strains to look up at him from your position and you’re taken aback from how tall he really is. You’d never really noticed it, usually too busy scowling at him as you thought up ways you could beat him in your exams. But now that the two of you were alone, and on more civilized terms, you were truly able to take in his figure.

He was tall; so tall that he stood an entire head over you. And ridiculously broad; was it even possible to have such broad shoulders naturally? Especially with how narrow his waist and hips were, leading to long legs and thick thighs. With a startling realisation, you realise that Seokjin is handsome and far more beautiful than you had ever pegged him for. It should have been illegal or at least completely impossible to have been built like that with a face like that. It was unfair; how was anyone supposed to compete? You’d always thought he was stupidly attractive but this level of handsome was completely unnecessary.

“____? You okay?” Seokjin calls out and you abruptly jerk back, realising how close he was. His face is almost touching yours, and you can feel his warm breath against your lips as he stares curiously at you. All of a sudden, you let out a little squeal, pushing him away as you roll, trying to put more distance between him and you.

“Woah, you okay?” Seokjin asks and you nod rapidly, trying to stay as calm as possible despite your previously traitorous thoughts and rapidly pumping heartbeat.

“Perfectly fine!” You call out, quickly getting off the bed before placing your palms on his chest in an effort to push him out of your room. The minute your palms touch his chest however, you’re quickly wondering just what he looks like underneath his shirt because his chest feels hard and perfectly chiselled.

“____?” Seokjin asks curiously, and once again you realise that your mind was wandering to places you definitely did not want it to be.

“GOODNIGHT! BYE” You all but scream, pushing him towards the door before practically throwing him out, slamming the door in his face. As soon as he’s out, you scrunch your flushed face, leaning your head against the cool door.

“What is wrong with you? Get a grip of yourself! He’s your rival! Whether you’re on better terms not or not! You still have to beat him” You chastise yourself, reigning in your mind as you refuse to let your treacherous mind wander into that territory once again. You quickly slap your face with both hands before rushing into the bathroom to get changed. This was, undoubtedly, going to be a long week.

Two days later and you and Seokjin still haven’t come up with a solution to your task, no matter how much you’d brainstormed. You walk into the restaurant dejectedly on the fourth day. You had four days left until your challenge ended, which included today. How you were going to pass, you had no idea. You press open the steel door of the kitchen; however, instead of seeing Seokjin hunched over the counter with various pieces of paper like you were used to, you see him grinning with a wide array of ingredients around him. Your face crunches as you approach him curiously.

“What’s going on?” You ask as Seokjin throws you a chef jacket.

“BAO!” Seokjin all but yells in triumphant and you lurch slightly, astounded by his sudden outburst.

“What?” You question, puzzlement lacing your tone.

“Bao! I don’t know how we didn’t think of it before! But Hunan’s speciality should be Bao!” Seokjin explains and your eyes widen, shining with hope as you nod enthusiastically.

“Yes! Oh my god! That’s perfect!” You cry, abruptly and inadvertently throwing your hands around him in joy. Seokjin’s arms instinctively wrap around you and soon you’re both stiffening, unsure how to respond to the unfamiliar situation. You stare up at him, his dark gaze on you. It takes you a couple moments for you brain to kick back into gear; realising exactly what you’d done, you quickly let him go before clearing your throat, trying to stifle your blush.

“Right. Sorry about that, I wasn’t thinking” You quickly apologise; Seokjin simply laughs it off, hand rubbing the back of his head as he tries to play it cool, despite his red-hot ears.

“That’s fine, you were excited, it’s completely understandable,” Seokjin says, brushing it off. The two of you stand still, unsure of how to continue as an awkward tension washes over the two of you.

“So… how did you come up with bao?” You ask, trying to move on from the painful silence.

“Oh! I visited a small convenience store and they were selling frozen bao and it got me thinking. There is not a single bao restaurant in the vicinity and none of the restaurants have them on their menu. I think that’s why we completely forgot about them. But, it has both our disciplines. I can make the meat filling and you can make the bao dough yes?” Seokjin asks with a grin, beaming with pride.

“That’s…” You start with a smile before it slowly falls off your face. You want to congratulate him and tell him he’s done well, but you’re unsure how to. This was completely new territory for the both of you. You glance at Seokjin, realising he’s waiting for you to continue. You take in a deep breath, gathering all your strength and courage before stomping down your own screaming pride. Plastering a genuine smile on your face, you beam at him.

“That’s amazing Seokjin. Thanks…. I was starting to lose hope in completing this challenge” You mumble earnestly, rubbing your arm shyly. Seokjin’s eyes soften at how small you look before placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey! We’re two of the best students at the Academy. There was no way we’d fail this, right?” Seokjin says in an effort to cheer you up. You nod, the entire situation slightly jarring because here was Kim Seokjin, you sworn rival, comforting you. You shake off your thoughts, instead, taking off your outer jacket and slipping on the chef jacket as you get ready to work. You quickly tie your hair up and wash your hands, turning to him in determination.

“Alright! Let’s do this. You get started on the meat filling and I’ll start the dough” You immediately delegate. Seokjin raises his eyebrow at your sudden change in demeanour before he lets out a lopsided smile. With a mock salute, he turns and begins pulling out various meats from the fridge, getting to work.

Half an hour later, you spot Seokjin placing his pork into the oven. You turn back to your dough, kneading it as hard as you can as you try to get it to the correct consistency. Seokjin quickly clears up before walking up to you, watching you curiously. He takes a look at the large bowl, letting out a whistle at the amount of dough you have inside.

“That’s a lot of dough” Seokjin comments and you roll your eyes at the obvious statement.

“Yes, well done Sherlock. I figured we’d need more than one portion considering we need the staff to try it. Also, I assume you have more than one type of filling” You reply but Seokjin simply shakes his head, rolling his sleeves up.

“No, I thought we’d keep it simple and go with a classic. Char Siu Bao, a fan favourite and guaranteed to draw customers in” Seokjin states, sending you a thumbs up, as if he’d just advertised the best dish. You deflate slightly.

“It’s a good plan but this just means I’ve made too much dough” You almost whine, your arms already tired from all the kneading. Seokjin simply pats your head, drawing closer towards you.

“Here, let me help,” He says before placing his hand into the bowl with you. Your startle slightly, gawking up at him in astonishment. He ignores you, instead, focusing on kneading the dough in the bowl with you.

“I know I’m handsome but are you just going to stare or are you going to help? Your hand’s kind of in the way” Seokjin grins playfully and you feel the vein in your forehead throb as you tut at him.

“With the amount you call yourself handsome, some would think you were in love with yourself,” You remark, Seokjin chuckling at you.

“Is there something wrong with loving yourself?” He asks.

“I said in love with yourself, not loving yourself. There’s a difference” You reply, causing Seokjin to shrug.

“In love, loving yourself. It’s all the same when you have a face like a flower” Seokjin says, flicking his hair out of his forehead before fluttering his eyelashes at you. You burst into laughter at his ridiculousness, giggling as he grins at you.

“Wow, never thought I’d see the day you actually laughed at something I said. Usually, you’d just insult me and walk away. Does this mean you no longer hate me?” Seokjin questions out of curiosity and you immediately sober up from your giggling fit. Having Seokjin point it out feels weird, but the more you think about it, the more you realise he was right. This was weird. You were having a pleasant conversation with your rival and hadn’t felt the surge of hatred you usually felt when interacting with him.

“Hm. I guess I don’t. It’s easier to not hate you when I know you don’t think I’m beneath you. Besides, if I continued hating you now, it would only be out of pettiness” You explain, Seokjin grinning at your words.

“Aha! I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist my charms for too long” Seokjin teases, eyebrows rising suggestively, and you roll your eyes at his antics, refusing to even dignify him with a response.

“Yes, that’s what happened. Let’s just go back to kneading the dough. We still have the challenge to pass” You say, ending the conversation. Seokjin nods, saluting once again causing you to roll your eyes again.

You focus on kneading the dough once again; it’s almost to the consistency it needs to be; but with the amount of dough in the bowl, you know it’s going to take slightly longer than planned. Suddenly, you feel Seokjin’s hands bump against you, your fingers brushing against each other’s as he gently but firmly kneads the dough. Involuntarily, you watch the way his long but slightly crooked fingers work the dough, heel of his palm pressing into the bao mix... You’re almost mesmerised by the movements; you had never truly taken time to watch Seokjin work but right now, as he was gently working the dough, you realise that he, like you, truly loved cooking. You could feel the amount he cared for his craft through the gentleness of his touch, slowly but surely kneading the dough into submission. You watch the way his heel compresses into the soft mixture, dough pooling on either end of his palm.

“It looks about done, right? What do you think oh great Dough Master?” Seokjin jokes, looking at you for advice on whether to keep going or to stop. You glance up, and you faintly acknowledge that he’s said something. In fact, his lips are moving but you can no longer focus on his words, nor can you comprehend them. Instead, you’re completely lost in the way his lips move. They look incredibly pillowy and pink, a slight sheen on his upper lip from the heat of the kitchen. You wonder what they’d feel like against your own lips.

“____?” Seokjin finally says, waving dough covered hands in front of your face. You blink owlishly, your eyes coming back into focus as you’re brought out of your thoughts. You stare up at him questioningly, hoping he’ll repeat himself.

“What?” You say, but Seokjin can tell that you’re slightly dazed. He stares at you, puzzlement etched into his face before pointing at the dough.

“Do you think this is okay? It looks pretty much done” He repeats and you turn back to the dough, blinking owlishly. Your brain slowly kicks back into gear and your face heats as you nod furiously.

“Oh! Um yes! This is perfect! It just needs to rest for two hours now” You say, hastily letting go of the dough, almost as if it had burned you. Briskly walking to the sink, you wash your hands, silently berating yourself for once again getting distracted by Kim Seokjin.

The next few hours move quickly, you and Seokjin throwing yourselves into creating the char Siu bao to the best of both your abilities, presenting the dish to Mei and the rest of her staff. Thankfully, everyone loves the idea of a speciality dish and you and Seokjin grin at each other, happy that you had some sort of plan to tackle Hunan’s lack of customer base.

The following days passed in a blur. Day five sees both you and Seokjin teaching Mei how to create Hunan’s signature bao. Seokjin and Mei work on the meat filling together, Mei chiming in with her own two cents every now and then on what ingredients would make the dish more authentic and which spices would complement each other better, bringing out the flavours of the pork even more. When she’s done with Seokjin, she works with you learning your dough recipe and some techniques you’d picked up during your three years on how to create the perfect dough texture every single time.

Days six and seven you have no time to speak to Seokjin; you both take turns, one trying to promote the new bao on the street, drawing in customers while the other helps in the kitchen. By the end of both days, you’re both completely exhausted and as soon as you get to your hotel rooms, you crash. Luckily, by the end of the week, you’re back in the academy in your own studio apartment, ready to sleep for an entire week after having accomplished your challenge. You were completely exhausted, from your exams, which you had not managed to recover from and from the consecutive week-long excursion to Hunan, in order to gain some restaurant experience.

“Hey ____, your burner is too high. We’re supposed to slow cook the meat,” Seokjin says from a counter diagonally to yours. You hear everyone take in a deep breath, the head chef at the front of the classroom suddenly sitting straight. You know exactly why the class responded the way they did; they were most likely expecting you to blow up and yell at Seokjin to mind his own business, the head chef even getting ready to break up the impending fight.

“Oh? You’re right. Thanks, Jin,” you simply say, turning your burner down before turning back to your task of chopping up the vegetables. Everyone stares in disbelief at your casual acceptance of Seokjin’s advice. The head chef is completely still, mouth dropped at the unexpected occurrence. In all three years of teaching both you and Seokjin, you had never once been civil. The class slowly came to life, some students eagerly whispering to one another, undoubtedly gossiping while others just stared nervously at both you and Seokjin, wondering what the hell had happened.

The rest of the class follows without a hitch, and as usual, you and Seokjin scored the top marks in the class, although Seokjin scores slightly higher than you. Surprisingly, you’re not filled with a burning all-consuming rage to beat him. It had been a month since your trip to Hunan and unsurprisingly you and Seokjin were on much friendlier terms; although no one was as happy as your little friendship group, who were just glad that you could all hang out without you and Seokjin being at each other’s throats. Or, well, more you being at Seokjin’s throat. Sure, the two of you still argued and still had your little competition to see who was the better chef, but everyone could tell that there was no real heat behind the little spats anymore. Now, whenever Seokjin teased or taunted you, you were filled with annoyance and exasperation more than hate.

Seokjin catches your eye as he’s leaving the room; he pauses briefly before grinning, winking and then waving as he leaves. You awkwardly wave back at him before you continue gathering your things. Everyone else, however, just stands in complete astonishment as they watch the little interaction between the two of you. You slowly wander down the long corridor, face slightly scrunched as people stare at you, whispering between themselves. You strain your ears slightly, trying to listen to the hushed conversations.

“Do you think they’re together?”

“Oh my god, Seokjin totally winked at her and she didn’t even yell at him! She just smiled and waved back!”

“Have you noticed that they actually… like, get along now?”

“Yes! They don’t fight anymore, it’s so weird. I never thought I’d see the day”

“It’s really kind of weird… like it’s just weird to see them getting along”

“Really? I always thought they’d end up together”

“WHAT?”

“What? You can’t hate someone that much without wanting to fuck. They always say there’s a thin line between love and hate”

“You’re right! And oh my god, weren’t they paired up for the restaurant challenge? And they stayed in a hotel away from campus!”

“Oh yeah they totally hate fucked and now are in love with each other”

“Ugh, she’s so lucky!”

“Wah! I could totally see that! Even when they argue now it’s like flirting more than an actual argument”

“Agreed! They’re totally secretly dating.”

Throughout your entire eavesdropping session, your face slowly grows warmer and warmer until your ears are hot red. For most of it, you can ignore them. They’re just baseless rumours running through students who had nothing better to do with their time. However, the last few have you suddenly stopping and instantly turning on your heel, stalking towards the two girls who had now moved on from speculating that you and Seokjin were both secret lovers to when it began. They watch you approach them, immediately shutting up as their eyes widen in slight fear, exchanging a nervous glance between each other.

“No! That would never happen! How could you even think of such a thing? M-M-Me and him? Not in this world! Not in any alternate world either! So, what if we get along now? Nothing wrong with it… right? RIGHT! Yes, we just get along. But that would never happen. No, no it wouldn’t! It couldn’t! He likes cooking meat and I like cooking sweet things! See, complete opposites. It would never happen!” You burst, arms flailing around before stomping your foot down. You cross your arms and nod as if you’d made the world’s most flawless argument.

Everyone stares in confusion, murmurs of ‘what is she talking about’ and ‘did you even understand her’ roaming around the corridor. You grow slightly sheepish as even more eyes stare at you. You quickly pull your bag closer to you before briskly walking - really you were practically running - down the corridor. The students all stared at your back, wondering if your rivalry with Seokjin had finally caused you to lose the plot and go insane.

“That was weird right?”

“Do you think she was listening to us?”

“I mean, even if she was… I still have no idea what she was talking about.

“Bro… she didn’t even make any sense”

“God, I can’t believe they thought Seokjin and I would be secretly dating… it’s completely insane! We’re rivals… nothing more! Although we are becoming friends I guess,” You begrudgingly admit to yourself as you slowly open your apartment door. You place your bag down by the door before taking your shoes off and slipping into your house slippers.

“There’s no way. I don’t even like him like that… right?” You speak out loud, more to yourself than anything. But even you have to admit that it sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself than anything. Admittedly, you’re still somewhat confused by your entire relationship - or lack thereof - with Seokjin. It was strange to go from hating him to suddenly being somewhat friendly with him. Although, you have to admit that you had always been moderately confused by Seokjin. Even when you had hated him, you had somewhat admired him reluctantly. A small part of you even acknowledges that the admiration was most likely why you needed him to admit you were a good enough chef. Granted, he now had admitted he thought you were a good chef, hell he’d even said he considered you on his level. Perhaps that was why you were suddenly flustered by him.

Yes. Of course! That had to be it!

Hours later, you were still plagued by thoughts of Seokjin. You lay in bed, mindlessly scrolling through twitter, barely reading the tweets. Your eyes flicked to the top of your phone, groaning when you realised it was nearing two am. You jostled in bed, turning onto your side as you continued scrolling aimlessly, mind still preoccupied on Seokjin. Ten minutes later however you stumbled on a video of two teens snorting crushed ramen. You shook your head, wondering just where people got the idea for this stuff. However, at that very minute, your stomach began growling and suddenly you were craving something sweet.

You pulled yourself out of bed, trudging through your bedroom and into the kitchen. You quickly opened the cabinets, realising you had absolutely no snacks before checking your fridge, hopeful that maybe you had something left over from one of your earlier experiments. However, you had no such luck. Your stomach growled again and you shut your fridge with a groan. You swiftly threw on your jacket, slipping into your trainers before grabbing your keys and wallet, heading out to the twenty-four-hour convenience store next to campus.

The spring night air is crisp and the cool breeze chills your bones slightly, causing you to pull your jacket closer to your body. You wander through the well-lit streets, thoughts once again wandering to Seokjin and your bizarre friendship with him. No matter how much you think about it, you simply can’t comprehend him nor the sudden confusion that clouds your mind whenever it comes to him. Briefly, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to figure it out. It had been hours and you couldn’t come to a single, plausible solution that made sense to you.

Soon you arrive at the convenience store, however, just as you’re about to go in, someone steps out. And of course, that person is none other than the man who had been plaguing your thoughts for most of the day. You blink owlishly, staring at the tall man in front of you. He’s dressed in a loose white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, a long blank jacket draped over him. Your gaze briefly snaps to the plastic bag he’s holding, your face scrunching up before you burst into laughter at the contents of his bag.

“Yah! What the hell are you laughing at?” Seokjin says in indignation, in the same loud voice he usually speaks in whenever Jungkook insults him.

“Why do you have instant ramen?! Oh my god, this is priceless” You cackle, eyes practically tearing up and doubling over as you point at his bag. Seokjin’s ears immediately turn red and he swiftly hides the bag behind him, tutting at you.

“What’s wrong with instant ramen? I’m allowed to buy it!” Seokjin grumbles but his words only cause you to laugh harder.

“Because you’re a top-rated chef, that’s why! Oh my god, I cannot believe you’re buying instant ramen at 2am…” You gasp out, trying to catch your breath from your sudden fit of laughter. Seokjin glowers at you, grumbling to himself before shoving his hands in his pocket, the plastic bag hanging from his wrist.

“Shut up… I was hungry and I didn’t have anything that I could make quickly” Seokjin reasons, but you only grinned brightly at him, as if you had been handed the best prize in the world.

“There, there. I’m only joking” You say and Seokjin nods curtly, his ears still red.

“So why are you here?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

“I was craving something sweet cause I was hungry… but I think I could do with some ramen too. Come on, let me go buy a packet and I’ll make it for you” You say, grabbing his jacket sleeve without thinking before dragging him back into the store. Seokjin allows you to pull him toward the ramen isle and you soon pick your favourite ramen off the shelf as well as some eggs before paying for it. You and Seokjin walk outside toward the little ramen area.

“Why are you making it for me?” Seokjin asks curiously as he hands you his ramen packet, watching the way you open it, placing the noodles in the tin foil before adding the sachet and hot water.

“Jungkook specialises in ramen remember? His guilty pleasure is instant ramen. But you can’t tell anyone that! He’ll lose his credibility as a ramen master! Anyway, he’s taught me a thing or two about perfecting instant ramen” You explain Seokjin laughing mischievously.

“Oh, that’s some good blackmail material for when he calls me old” Seokjin says and you turn to him, eyes wide before shaking your head furiously.

“No! Absolutely not! I’m the only one who knows, so if you bring it up he’ll definitely know it was me that told you,” You quickly retaliate, your eyes wild at the thought of what Jungkook would do if his little secret got out.

“It’s really not that bad-” Seokjin starts, but you cut him off.

“No! Promise me you won’t say anything!” You quickly shout and Seokjin immediately nods, deflating slightly.

“God! Fine! I won’t say anything. I promise” Seokjin calls out and you smile, nodding before turning to the ramen.

“Oh, nice! It's done! Come eat” You call, grabbing the two tinfoil containers before sitting on one of the wooden benches. Seokjin sits opposite you; you offer him the disposable wooden chopsticks but he shakes his head, pulling out his own from his jacket.

“Why the hell do you just carry chopsticks in your jacket?” You ask, blowing on your ramen before slurping on them.

“You never know when you need them! Like now, see. Now I’m not wasting disposable chopsticks like some people,” He says pointedly causing you to roll your eyes.

"Okay yeah, whatever just eat your damn ramen" You retort, Seokjin laughing before picking some noodles between his chopstick, blowing and placing them in his mouth.

“How is it?” You asked curiously.

“Hmm. It’s good” Seokjin replies as he slurps some more. You grin, tucking into your own container. The two of you sit in silence for a couple moments, unsure of what to say. You haven't really been alone with him since a month ago when you'd both been paired up for the restaurant challenge.

"So," You say, uncomfortable with the tense silence between the two of you. You had foolishly offered to cook him ramen in a spur of the moment decision but you had completely forgotten that you'd have to sit and eat with him. Of course, you had sat and eaten with him when you’d visited all those restaurants at Hunan, but at least then you could talk about the menu and food. What were you supposed to do now? Talk about the history of ramen?

"Why did you become a chef?" Seokjin asked, breaking the silence. He looks at you curiously, slurping some more ramen into his mouth.

"That's... kind of a personal question don't you think?" You answer back, Seokjin snorting slightly before pointing his chopsticks towards you.

"I thought we were friends" comes Seokjin's direct reply.

"I mean... I wouldn't go that far but okay" You respond, looking away, his words startling you. Were you friends? Sure, you weren't exactly enemies anymore, but wasn't friends pushing it? If it were up to you, you'd call it casual acquaintances or something similar.

"Go on then, why did you become a chef?" Seokjin repeats. You let out a little sigh before placing your chopsticks down. You glance up at the sky, the city lights drown out most of the sky, but there are still a few stars that lit up the night sky.

"My parents used to run a small cake shop in our town, so I basically just grew up baking and making desserts. I learnt a lot from mom and grandpa and eventually just got better than them. I think the first time I baked one of grandpa's recipes was around the age of five. Mom helped obviously, but grandpa loved it so much. He'd started baking for grandma and he loved that I picked up the skill and well, that's why I started baking" You say, a small wistful smile on your face as you remember your grandfather's smile when you'd presented the cake to him.

"That doesn't explain why you became a chef though. A pâtissier yeah, but not why you joined Big Hit. You don’t have to have studied professionally to run a family-run cake shop" Seokjin points out and you turn back to him, cocking your head to the side.

"That was because by the time it got to applying for universities, mom and grandpa knew there was nothing more they could teach me. They both had been saving up to send me here because they thought my talents were wasted in their little bakery and well, after all the years of saving, I didn't have the heart to tell them no and so here I am, three years later. It was probably the best decision of my life" You say, a wistful smile on your face as you remembered their kindness.

"So, you decided on a whim then?" He clarifies and you shrug.

"I guess so. I never really thought about anything other than baking in grandpa's bakery but they both knew there were bigger things out there than a small cake shop in Busan" You say Seokjin nodding.

"That's fair enough, I just thought that maybe it would have been a big dream of yours of something. I always wondered why you were so hell-bent on always being the top," Seokjin comments offhandedly and you sneer slightly at him.

"Grandpa and mom spent a lot of time and money on my tuition here. I can't exactly disappoint them by failing, now can I... especially now after I've come so far" You point out, Seokjin nodding in accord.

"Still doesn't explain why you wanted to beat me so bad. You didn't have to fail but that didn't mean you had to try so hard to be first either" Seokjin points out, causing you to scowl at him again before your face turns passive once again.

"No, you’re right. A lot of that was to do with how much you annoyed me," You deadpan, Seokjin snickering, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Okay, enough about me. Why did you become a chef?" You ask, curious to find out Seokjin's reasons for becoming a chef.

"It's not as meaningful as yours. I did it more as an act of defiance than anything" Seokjin replies, both of you long since finished with your ramen. You quirk an eyebrow, waiting for him to delve deeper into his explanation.

"Well my dad wanted to go into the family business, but I really didn't want to. This was... let's say a compromise" Seokjin responds.

"Okay yes, because that isn't cryptic or anything... come on! I told you my reasons" You whine slightly, and Seokjin chuckles.

"Stop pouting, I can't say no to you when you do that," Seokjin says all of a sudden and you immediately jerk, face flushing as you process his words.

"W-What? Don't just say things like that!" You scream, pointing at him accusingly. Really, what was his problem? What was he so flirty for?

"But if I didn't then I wouldn't be being true to myself. But anyway, if you really want to know... my dad's a CEO, he owns a chain of restaurants and wanted me to take over even though I didn't want to. I wanted to be an actor but he said no to that. My other hobby was cooking considering I’d been in professional kitchens since I could walk, so I said I'd take over if he let me attend Big Hit Academy. He agreed" Seokjin elaborates but you simply scrunch your eyebrows.

"Where's the compromise in that? Doesn’t he get what he wants in the end anyway?" You refuted but Seokjin just sends you a sly glance before leaning in.

"See, what he doesn't know is that I'll only be taking over one restaurant, which I won't manage but be the head chef of" Seokjin loudly whispers, his tone conspiratorial.

"Won't that piss him off? But also, who will run the restaurants then?" You ask, curious about Seokjin's future plan. Seokjin's face contorts with pride as he grins at you.

"It won't matter because I'll be in charge anyway so he won't have a say in it. But also, I'll just hire a professional CEO or something, someone who could actually manage the restaurants. To be honest, as graduation is nearing, I was wondering if I could just hire Namjoonie to do it. No one is as good a manager as him, plus it's all boring like numbers and graphs and he likes that stuff, right?" Seokjin asks, staring at you earnestly. You giggle slightly, imagining Namjoon's face if Seokjin offered him the job before nodding enthusiastically.

"Yeah, I think he'd really love that to be honest," You replied, smiling softly at Seokjin, causing him to respond with his own smile, the wells in his cheeks at the corner of his lips deepening. It's adorable and only further draws attention to his already perfect lips. How had you not noticed them before?

"Damn, it's almost three am. Do you want to head back? I'll walk you home" Seokjin offers as he gathers up your empty foil containers, plopping them in the bin before wiping down his chopsticks, placing them back in his pocket.

"Oh, you really don't have to! It's not a long walk from here anyway" You quickly say, trying to refuse his offer. Seokjin simply sends you a look that has you sighing, immediately knowing that there was no way he'd be letting you off that easily.

"Come on, I can’t let you walk alone at this time of the night," Seokjin says and you quickly follow him, leading the way.

The two of you spend the short walk speaking more about your life out of the academy. You tell Seokjin about running the little cake shop with your mother and grandfather, your father spending most of his time in the city with his office job. You don't even stop and think about opening up to him as it all comes naturally to you. You'd never really noticed how easy it was to talk to Seokjin, not that you'd really had any reason to beforehand considering your - now that you thought about it - petty rivalry. You tell him about how you'd bake a special cake for the bakery once a week that would have people bustling in for your desserts. You even tell him about how you and your grandfather bake a special cake for your mother on her birthday. In turn, Seokjin tells you more about his home life. His father, as loving and doting as he was, would usually be too busy running the business, leaving his mother to look after both his brother and himself.

"If I was being completely honest... the reason I started cooking wasn’t that I grew up around kitchens. Sure, it interested me… seeing how basic ingredients turn into something else. But, I started because my mother is an awful cook and my brother is no better. I got tired of eating inedible food and took over the cooking in the house. And well, it turned out that I was really good at it. Sometimes I wonder if I should stop and just take over the family business like dad wants but then I remember my mother's smile every time I would cook her something, and I remember why I started and how much I love it, and it just motivates me to keep going" Seokjin says, a wistful look on his face as the two of you near your apartment complex. Your head snaps to him in slight awe of his sudden confession.

"Wow... I had no idea you thought about quitting or giving up" You mutter, Seokjin looking down at you with a rueful smile.

"Does it not get too much for you sometimes? The pressure...? Everyone expects you to always be at the top or for you to come up with amazing dishes time after time. Sometimes I forget how much I love cooking and the pressure just builds up but I just remember mom and her smile and everything gets better" Seokjin states, his tone light again, a genuine smile returning to his face. Your fingers twitch slightly, wanting to reach out and grasp his hand to offer him some semblance of comfort. But you can't do that. You may be somewhat friends, but your relationship was nowhere near that level of intimacy. So, you settle for the next best thing.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm glad you didn't quit. I'd miss our rivalry... and you do make me a better chef" You admit grudgingly, Seokjin raises an eyebrow at your statement, an amused smirk on his face. You immediately flush, "B-Besides, winning by default isn't really winning" You stammer, trying to explain yourself but you and Seokjin both know you're lying.

"I'm glad I stayed. You make me a better chef too" Seokjin says with a wink. Your face heats further and you try to respond, but instead, you simply stutter, unable to think of a response.

"Oh look! We're here! Wow, it's really late. I'll see you at the academy!" You suddenly blurt, your words rushed as you try and get away from him. Seokjin instantly reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you back.

"Hey! We've got a break now, I won't see you for a week or something. Besides, that's not a proper goodbye" Seokjin points out and you scowl despite the prominent blush on your face.

"What do you... mean?" You start before trailing off, watching as Seokjin bends over to the rose bushes planted at the bottom of your complex. He plucks one off of the bush, it's not fully bloomed yet, only a few petals unfurling from the bud, before handing it to you.

"Goodnight ____," Seokjin says with an over-exaggerated bow. You roll your eyes at his antics before accepting the flower, breathing in the subtle scent of the rose. Seokjin stands straight again and then winks at you before turning around and walking away. You roll your eyes at him again before you too turn around and enter your building.

A couple moments later and you're back in your small studio apartment. You wander to the kitchen, pulling out a vase from the cabinet before filling it with water. Carrying the vase, you place it in the living room on your coffee table before placing the rose in it. The vase is slightly too big for the single flower, but it still looks pretty nonetheless. You glance at the rose one last time before returning to bed, a small smile on your face.

a/n: uwu what did you think?? please let me know!!

▷ Part II | Masterlist

[pyrodarknessanny]

Whilst the topic of treating women with  respect is a hot button issue at the moment it got me thinking about my own experiences in life. and whilst I can say that I am one of the lucky ones who’s not been assaulted   things have happened around me that  had they gone differently  my story would be very different indeed. it also saddens me  that I know so many close friends and family who were not so lucky , many of them were children when they were first abused. and yes I do know  “not all men”   but   as the brothers , fathers , uncles , cousins ,friends and co-workers  the weight of this falls on you to call out  the  unacceptable behaviour of your peers. I’m going to list this instances in chronological order. and keep in mind that  I am a  goblin , short, weird , don’t care for looking nice and makeup and such  but still  ive been put on the spot numerus times in the past by  “nice guys”™ high school , senior years .   met some one I thought was decent online . we had an on again off again  video call thing going it spanned years  and started innocently enough  however in the latter years  when I was super depressed it turned quite toxic and manipulative   where he would refuse to   pay attention to me, controlling the calls , there was a time zone difference  so I was up till 4am most nights  hoping that this person would be around.    When we did get into calls  he had me doing  increasingly  dangerous things .   he’d even convinced me to  send him a  substantial amount of money of the last 12 months of our contact.          I’ve since cut them off  cold some years ago now but   they’ve certainly had an impact on me

 In between this on again off again online thing   when I was single I’ve and no less than 3   older male friends  try to hit me up because their  partners at the time were out of town. one even messaged me one night when I was high and tried very hard to convince me that it would be a good idea to drop round.       I don’t talk to any of them now but  each one I told to stay faithful to their partners and denied their offers.    

Also in high school - this happened at my  part time job. boss had a mate who would often sell him stuff for the store ,  bit of a flipper. one of the other senior staff thought it was FUNNY  to tell him that  I was fair game. so this guy who is well in his 40’s   would seek me out at work and harass me. usually when I was at the back of the shop bagging the bulk produce into smaller retail portions. mind you I’m  an 18 yr old autistic person .  had to find excuses to  avoid this person   make it look like im working  in the areas that had security cameras on them or   hope that there were customers so he couldn’t  talk to me.       I had spoken out about this  to the boss and  the owner of the business ( as it was one of his friends)   but they  all thought it was a harmless game. guy bailed me up at the back of the store one afternoon as im bagging  up animal feed.  Store was dead quiet  so not a lot of escape options   I had had enough of it by that point  and put him in his place.   Fortunately  for me he was a little old Asian man  had he of been some one of my dad’s stature  that scenario would have played out MUCH differently.  

Hey now speaking of family! growing up in an abusive household sure dose   wounders for building character huh? im on good talking terms with my family now but growing up  was interesting.

Our house hold was one of hard disciplines.  We didn’t just get smacked we got absolutely belted.

Or our things were broken… actually it was only ever MY things that got trashed out of discipline. my 4 brothers always got off Scott free. Whenever there was a fight or argument ? it was always me that was in trouble  regardless of the circumstance.

Good lessons to teach the kids eh’

My real dad  was off the sceen,  we were more or less raised by our step dad but   when he got an upper management job at his place of work , shit at home  got  bad.    The abuse turned from physical   to psychological .     nothing was ever good enough.   You were always trash  or a disgrace. and praise was only ever given to  the brothers.          So  yeah more good lessons  for  impressionable teens.   shitty ex #1 -  met them at a convention , seamed like a reasonable kind of guy we hit it off and it was great.    Very quickly realised something was off about them. tried very hard to control me .  would say one thing and then do something else entirely. caught them out on numerous lies and on more than one occasion said some very concerning things about minors.       Moments that stand out the most .   was staying at my place for a party , either a birthday or Halloween .   at my house with my family and close friends , had the gall to try and control my behaviour  because  he thought I was being too weird , he did this in front of my mother and best friend.     Another time , it was my birthday and he promised  to buy dinner out . started out as  we would go to this fancy casino restaurant .    ended at a Mc Donald’s with me catching the train home by my self  fuming.     I should have ended that one much sooner than I did but I didn’t want to come across as “mean” or unreasonable  so it let it drag out for another 6 months before I told him to fuck off.

 Dude then proceeded to cyber stalk me and  several friends there after. he was super bad at this and  finaly backed off when I threatened to call the cops. YEET!

 Shitty ex #2 -  technically we only dated for a few weeks decided that it didn’t work for either of us but stayed good friends .        had to tell them  frequently  about what things were and weren’t appropriate  for the friendship afterwards ,    eneded turning into one of the biggest narcicists ive ever seen.

 Miscellaneous things.   Im mentioned before about peer pressure and that its on the boys to call this shit out when they see it. I’ve had  to be the voice of reason for a number of male friends   when they were getting  a bit too obsessed over  girls who had zero interest in them.        One guy in particular  could not leave it alone  , this girl he was white knighting for    was a friend from school , she had a partner but he  swore black and blue that   he could “save her”  from making shitty decisions.     I think he eventually gave up on her when she ripped him off over some digital art that was a trace job and he lost  a good sum of money but   it was disturbing to hear just how obsessed he was with  her.

[silver-wield]

I’m curious as to what you think about the friendship between Tifa & Aerith with the remake & if you have any (possibly in-depth) analysis of their friendship? Watching them interact during the remake really made me think about how much Tifa cares for Aerith & vise versa. I love how their friendship progresses over the game. I hope we get to see more of it in future games. I’m all about Cloti but I also love whatever Tifa & Aerith got going on for themselves, just the ladies lol

I gotchu, nonny!

About time we show everyone these girls can get along and hopefully people will stop trying to erase one of them!

Ok, spoiler warning for ppl who haven't played – do I still need to do this? Eh ok, (I tag FF7R spoilers as final fantasy 7 remake spoilers) and it's gonna be a VERY long one so prepare to scroll.

Also, this is one person's interpretation of the scene, so if you disagree that's cool and we'll agree to disagree.

You're also gonna have to excuse the janky quality on some of the screens, I'm grabbing them from Youtube and it's frustrating af trying to get the exact moment I want.

Other analyses if anyone's interested.

Shinra HQ vision scene (Cloti/plot analysis) 

Chapter 3 (Cloti reblog) 

Tifa character analysis 

Aerith Resolution (plot analysis/theory – I should probably update this since I've had other ideas since then) 

Train graveyard (not really an analysis, but I got some sweet screenshots of Cloti) 

Clotiscrew tunnel analysis 

Cloti reunion analysis 

The Promise Analysis 

Andrea's approval (Cloti ask response) 

Cloti action touching

Now, strap in and enjoy the ride.

Before the recap I'm just gonna say the vid I'm taking this from is over 20m of them being friends and they didn't even meet until late in chapter 9 and they weren't even together after chapter 12 and only reunited in chapter 17, so if they can manage to become bffs in such a short amount of time then yall warships can calm your chill too.

Oh and I'm also throwing in some Cloti asides since Cloud is in all of this too and I wanna lol. Maybe next disc we'll get more of the girls without the leading man.

Quick recap for anyone who's forgotten the series of events.

Tifa's gone to get info out of Don Corneo at Wall Market and asked Cloud to go back to Sector 7: “You've seen how much ass I can kick”

Aerith's decided that's a bad idea, so they head in and jump through a series of side quest hoops to get them inside Corneo's place.

After the goons knock them out and take them to the basement, Cloud wakes up and sees Tifa, who asks if he's ok. After his embarrassing moment where he remembers he's wearing a dress in front of his crush, Aerith wakes up.

Eugh, I've mentioned the utterly janky quality on some of my screenshots right? There's a split second after this where Aerith is beaming at Tifa that I'm trying to capture but it’s just not happening.

Okay, so Aerith has literally just woken up and the first thing she does is bounce over to Tifa and introduce herself, all smiles and cheer. Tifa for her part is confused but polite because who is this girl? This is pretty simple from Tifa's pov. She is just confused, but polite. There's no signs of “rawr that's my man over there you can't touch”.

Aerith is like that one kid who's always first to greet new people. She's very much the extrovert, compared to Tifa's introvert.

(Bonus: Grumpy Cloud is grumpy. It's like he expects Tifa to be more responsible when he hears her insane plan lol)

So, after hearing Tifa's story and hearing the obvious concern in her voice, Aerith jumps in to reassure her. You'll notice she's leaning forward with open arms. This is simplistic body language, she's being open and earnest. Tifa has her full attention on Aerith, so she's listening without any signs of dismissing her – even though they've literally just met and she has no idea what Aerith is like or what she might say.

(Bonus: Cloud rolling his eyes. He thinks they're both crazy lol)

Responsible Tifa makes a return here! After Aerith's done enthusiastically throwing all of them to the wolves, Tifa shows concern. She knows Cloud and she can fight, but she's worried Aerith will get hurt because of her. This is a girl she's just met and we've seen how she is with strangers (shinra middle manager), so going along with Aerith's idea with no reservations wouldn't be her. Both girls have semi-relaxed body language. Their poses are mirrored, so there's no one is better than the other here. They're meeting as equals.

(Bonus: Cloud appears to be looking at Tifa's butt in this screen lol)

So, we're out of the basement and dealing with rapists. Fuuuun. FF7 really went there back in the day huh? Tifa and Aerith are on the same page, you'll see. They're both disgusted. Aerith probably more so than Tifa, who I expect is a little more used to dealing with scumbags who don't take no for an answer. Semi mirrored body language – Aerith has her hands protectively in front of her while Tifa's are by her sides so that she can better strike a fighting pose.

(Bonus: Cloud at this moment in time is calling Corneo a depraved bastard lol)

Aerith's little eyebrow raise and knowing look here. Now, she doesn't actually know how much ass Tifa can kick, but it looks like she suspects anyone who knows Cloud has skills. Not to mention he told Aerith that Tifa can handle herself. (Or maybe it's meta!Aerith, who knows?) She's expectant, anyway and Tifa delivers. Not to mention the teasing dialogue the goons mistake for being sexy. But that's what douchebags get.

Vicious Aerith is vicious lol I just wanted to add this one because it's a great expression for her and actually shows a different emotion from her besides her typical mask of cheer. She actually looks convincingly dangerous here, unlike most of the time when she's about as threatening as a cupcake lol

So Aerith kicks the douchebag and Tifa follows up in a seamless display of co-op that showcases her fighting skills. She takes Aerith's lead and goes for it.

Then comes the fight scene. Massive co-op between the girls. Tifa protects Aerith at one point, who uses the opportunity to grab a makeshift weapon.

Tifa is the disciplined fighter using her Zangan martial arts and Aerith...uses a chair lol

I have to admit that's one of my favourite moments with her in the entire game. It also fits with the expression she pulled at the start of the fight – that vicious look showed just how far she'll go when she wants to win.

Both girls, all smiles, complimenting each other for a job well done! What else is there to say about this? Oh, yeah, neither of them needs a lesson in how to high five lol

Remember, they've just met like an hour ago, if that. They're already high fiving and getting along.

Ok, so we've moved on from Corneo's place and now we're in the sewers. Here's where we hit a change in behaviour from Aerith. She's no longer the bouncy puppy jollying everyone along to be cheerful and optimistic. She's now become very serious and grave. She could choose to reassure Tifa that the slums are safe, but instead she urges them to hurry. This is likely another instance of meta!Aerith knowing things before they happen.

Tifa is very in her own space during this section of the game; she's worried about her friends and her home, so there's a sense of urgency in all her dialogue. Worry is clear in her tone and Aerith empathises with that and reinforces the need to get back.

You'll notice in most of these moments between them that we're looking over Tifa's shoulder. That's her perspective we're getting, as opposed to when we get scenes with Cloud when we're standing in a third party location watching both. This is deliberate framing so that we relate to Tifa in this situation. We’re looking at Aerith with some distance, but a human perspective rather than an omniscient one.

(Bonus: Cloud still takes the time to flirt with Tifa by reminding her of their little “sayings” interaction from chapter 3)

About halfway through the sewers and the gang has to cross a manky water way. Cloud goes first, leaving Tifa and Aerith behind. Tifa is still worrying about what Corneo said. Her body language, expression and voice all convey a deep fear of what will happen.

Aerith, though probably meta!Aerith, again doesn't act how she did when they first met, which is to reassure her things will be ok. She's become very serious and quiet, unlike how she was in the beginning. Her face here clearly says she knows they won't stop the plate from falling, but I think she knows if she says anything it would just make things worse. She and Tifa are only just sort of friends at this point, so she probably believes it isn't right to confide in her when she's already worried about so many people.

You'll see again the perspective is Tifa's and she notices that something is wrong with Aerith. Despite having so many other concerns, she notices that Aerith looks down. Her question is that of someone wanting to have all the information about the worst case scenario, but before she can find out anything Cloud tells them to keep moving (nice timing)

And now we're at the crossing bit. Tifa's made her way over and waits with Cloud for Aerith. Tifa's very encouraging at this point, reassuring Aerith that she's almost across. Once the platform topples into the muck, she reaches out a hand and pulls her to safety. This is another example of Tifa being the protector.

(Bonus: Cloud grabs Tifa when she staggers.)

“Then it's a date.”

It's likely that by this point Aerith has realised Tifa is spiralling with worry. She offers words of comfort and says to think of something fun. They agree to go shopping, and Tifa suggests bringing Cloud along to carry their stuff (lol bf role)

What's interesting is their contrasting body language here. When Tifa lowers her guard she puts both hands behind her back, opening herself up. It's a vulnerable position for a fighter to be in.

Aerith does the opposite. She's put her hands in front of herself in a protective gesture. This makes me think that even though she's being genuine with Tifa, she's holding something back from her as well. This is likely another meta!Aerith moment because she's aware of her approaching death and doesn't want to make too deep a bond with any of the group.

(Bonus: flirty little lean forward and “nothing” from Tifa when Cloud asks what they said about him)

“I saved her, she saved me”

I know that's a line from Cloud, but it applies to Tifa and Aerith too. Tifa saved Aerith from the sludge and now Aerith grabs Tifa's hand to pull her to safety from the collapsing walkway.

Aerith knows she can rely on Tifa to help her and now Tifa knows the same.

Now, I've seen a theory floating that whenever Aerith touches someone she shows them a vision of OG canon. I'm taking this moment to point out that even though she grabs Tifa's hand, you can see she never touches her skin. Idk if this theory is right – I've not examined every time she touches someone – but it's an interesting idea.

(Bonus: Cloud pulling his “oh shit, Tifa in trouble I must rescue” face as the walkway caves in)

YAAS TEAMWORK!! They're more in sync than in the Don's place as they automatically work together to save Cloud, who looks annoyed that he didn't make it on his own lol

After that it's further into the sewers until we get to the waterpump minigame (I hated this).

Cloud is about to suggest he goes, but Tifa cuts him off, so she and Aerith head over to do it. Now, I was expecting some kind of chat between them or some kind of war hint, but it was literally just the minigame and nothing else. I guess the absence of something is something too?

And this is probably the only shipwar image in the entire game, so take it in, people.

I don't like it. I didn't like how it made me not like Aerith after everything she and the others have gone through until this point. Her dialogue towards Tifa is meaner than any other time and I feel like this is OG Aerith – the one yall expected. She mentions Cloud is “her” bodyguard – something Tifa wasn't even aware of since it's never been mentioned until this point and Tifa looks hurt by the way Aerith is talking to her. That's not jealousy on her face. She's dismayed this person she thought was a friend is acting not like a friend. The fact Cloud notices this and backs up Tifa's side by saying “Ghosts aren't my thing” is evidence he supports her and won't let anyone hurt her.

This is not a nice image. Hope the OG fans enjoyed it though and I hope it's the only shipwar reference Square makes. Tifa's worried/scared, which has more to do with the ghosts. Cloud is ambivalent; he's being SOLDIER Cloud. Aerith is enjoying the chaos she’s caused.

And the nasty shipwar moment is over and they're back to being friends again. Tifa's fear through this section of the game makes her cling to Aerith when the lights go out. Aerith, for her part, calls Tifa to her, so that she can look after her. It's a nice moment to rebalance their friendship after that earlier bullshit.

Tifa looks worried – although I've said before her default expression is pensive, which makes sense considering her personality.

Aerith doesn't look afraid at all. She looks curious. One of them wants to be there and the other very much doesn't lol

(Bonus: Cloud grabbing Tifa and protecting her is everything)

And we're past the bit with the ghosts stealing Aerith away and Cloud and Tifa rescue her.

Tifa crouches down and comforts Aerith. She's kind and sympathetic and you'll also notice that this is the first time we're seeing Tifa from Aerith's pov. This is what Aerith sees when she looks at Tifa. Someone kind who came to help her. A friend. Tifa smiles and offers her hand, reinforcing their friendship and that she'll be there to support Aerith.

(Bonus: Cloud and Tifa's complementary body language here towards Aerith really highlights how much in sync they are. They both touch the same shoulder and have similar poses. They really look like a couple whose goal is protecting their friend.)

And now in a reversal we have Aerith comforting Tifa. This is hollow comfort, however, since Aerith knows what's about to happen and they can't stop it. This is evidenced by the fact we can’t see Aerith’s eyes. Her expression is concealed. This doesn't stop her from reaching for Tifa because she sympathises with her struggle.

Tifa saves Aerith again, this time from falling pipes. Their friendship is growing, although at times it feels one sided. Tifa is the protector, looking after Aerith, while Aerith is the one who relies on Tifa. It goes towards Tifa's maturity, compared to Aerith's free-spirit. Tifa is the responsible protector, while Aerith doesn't have to be because she's got people who look after her.

This could be another instance of meta!Aerith, since she's very calm when she says this and doesn't try to stop Tifa. She might know that Tifa will be ok if she goes. Her word choice is....odd. It's not really her heart Tifa's following, it's her principles. She can't stand by and let people get hurt when she can do something about it. But the way Aerith says this line is pretty telling. There's actually a big difference when meta!Aerith is on the scene compared to OG Aerith – who is annoying af.

It's the mark of a fast friendship that Aerith can tell this about Tifa, that she needs to go help, but then again, it's also not that hard to figure Tifa out when she's so open. I can't think of a single instance in the game when Tifa isn't straight as an arrow.

So, we've had very few moments when we're looking at Tifa through Aerith's pov. And now we're back looking at Aerith through Tifa's pov. The look on Aerith's face is very serene and reminds me of the one in the bar when she saw the flower. That definitely suggests to me that this is meta!Aerith and that's who has been building friendships this time around and not OG Aerith – who is still annoying af.

I'm further convinced of this when Aerith mentions Marlene and the look on Tifa's face is all “What?” while Aerith's suggests she knows exactly where to find Marlene, what she looks like, how old she is, when her birthday is and what she had for breakfast.

An unspoken communication passes between them. Lots of micro expressions here and some quiet hums and nods. I mean, if we're at telepathy then they're definitely friends.

Despite being reserved, Tifa grabs Aerith's hands in gratitude. For someone who doesn't display physical affection a lot, this is meaningful for Tifa. She trusts Aerith and she's relying on her to save Marlene. She's grateful and doesn't have the words to express it. She just nods, once, and her eyes are damp like she's trying not to cry.

And one last teamwork shot because look, neither of these girls needed lessons how to high ten...Cloud lol

Ok, the last one is the most important – typical.

Tifa's asked Aerith if she's ok a lot over the course of the game – which is a lot a lot when you think how little time they had together. This is the first time Aerith asks after Tifa's wellbeing. It's probably one of the few times anyone asks how Tifa's doing and they don't mean physical condition. Sure, Cloud asks, but we know why. Everyone else assumes Tifa can handle it. Tifa says she can, so it must be true. Even when she's shaking from repressing her urge to cry. Even when she can't sleep at night.

I noticed this my first playthrough because it stood out, and it's meant to stand out. This concern from Aerith to Tifa and Tifa to Aerith is mirrored through their interactions. It's supposed to make you think better of the girl who isn't part of your ship. It's supposed to make you draw a line under OG Aerith and Tifa's jealous rivalry and start thinking of them as friends. Because they are friends.

Conclusion:

The devs tried to end the ship war by making the girls more friendly towards each other in hopes that yall would stop bashing the one you don't like. These girls clearly have little rivalry going on. They're supportive, kind, open and understanding towards each other. Their friendship is one of my favourite things in the game and did actually go a long way to making me like Aerith – did I mention I hate OG Aerith?

Instead of arguing who Cloud loves more, why not try appreciating each girl for the qualities she brings to the overall game and to each other's life? 

Aerith likes Tifa. Tifa likes Aerith.

[angryinternetduck]

Sunflower, Volume Four

Aaaaannnnd here she is, part four of the Sunflower Series :) It’s 2.5k words and deals with just a bit of angst and there’s also some bad language. Enjoy!!!

part one | part two | part three

Two weeks. 

Two bloody weeks later, she was on the porch. 

The one night he’d forgotten and went out a little late. 

2 am. 

She was smoking the cigar he’d bought. Her guitar was next to her. 

He sat next to her. Hesitantly. 

She stared into space. 

He did the same. 

He wouldn’t talk first. 

He wouldn’t. 

He did. 

“Hey, Liv,” he said quietly.

“Hey, H.” 

A beat of silence. 

She shifted. Grabbed the guitar, balanced the cigar between her lips. 

 “I came up with more,” she said around the cigar. 

She started the notes, started, “Woke up -” and stopped. Handed the cigar to him. “It’s good,” she said, shrugging slightly. “Try it.” She didn’t move for a second, and Harry tried it, and it tasted like cinnamon, and he nodded, and he said, “‘s good,” and she started singing again. 

“Woke up alone in this hotel room - talked to nobody, where were… you… Fell back asleep, I got drunk by noon… I’ve never felt less… cool… We haven’t spoken since you went away…” She looked up, smiling a bit. “Comfortable silence is so overrated… Why won't you ever be the first one to break?” 

She stopped. Clapped her hands against the strings. Raised an eyebrow at him.

Harry breathed a puff of smoke. “Got all that from two weeks, eh?” 

She laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, fuck off.” 

“Bit dramatic of you, Liv.” 

“Fuck off, Styles. Works, though, right?” 

“Mhmm. I like it.” 

She looked at him for a second, then stole the cigar back. “How’ve you been, Harold?” 

“Brilliant, actually.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” 

“Yeah. Not to make you feel bad or summat, but I’ve been tryin’ not to talk to you.” 

She laughed. “Really? Little notes under my door and such seem to say different.” 

“Ah, so you’ve gotten them, have you?” 

“Sure have.” 

A beat of silence, and Harry sighed. “C’mon, Liv. Talk to me.” He smiled a bit, tapped her temple. “Let me inside that brain of yours.” She shrugged, bit her lip. “Nothing in there. Not at the moment, anyway…” 

“Nothing,” Harry echoed skeptically. 

Olivia looked down, rolling the cigar between her fingertips, and let silence linger for a few seconds. She was nibbling on her lip, her brows creased, like she was trying to figure something out. Harry watched her, giving her time, and tried not to pressure her. 

Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes darting between his like she’d find answers behind his gaze. “I’m scared,” she finally murmured. Harry frowned. “Of what?” he asked softly, and she looked back down again. 

“You,” she said. 

Harry opened his mouth to say something stupid about blushing, and then decided against it. “Why?” he said instead. She gave a wet laugh, looking out at the water before back at him, and there were tears in her eyes. 

“‘Cause I like you.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Shit, Harry, I like you a lot.” 

“Like you a lot, too, Liv,” Harry said, almost smiling. 

“I know,” she said. “I know, Harry, I know you like me a lot, and that -” She took a breath, wiping her cheek with the heel of her palm. “That scares me,” she said softly. Harry shook his head, not understanding. “Why?” he asked again, helpless. 

“Because!” Olivia exclaimed. “Because - because all that… all that liking just - just makes it that much harder when - when you -” She shook her head, closing her eyes. “Because all that liking just makes it that much harder when you don’t like me anymore,” she finally got out. 

“Oh, Liv, I won’t,” Harry murmured. “I’ll always like you, Liv, I swear.” 

She got up, wiping her cheeks as she opened her eyes and tears spilled down her face, and leaned against the railing. She cleared her throat, fiddling with the cigar. “You know I was engaged?” she asked softly. 

Harry stood up. Walked over to the railing, stood next to her. “No,” he said. “I didn’t.” 

“Well,” she said, “I was. For, uh - for a while. A Pam and Roy situation, except I actually… I actually really liked him. Shit, I loved this guy, Harry. And he - he loved me, you know?” She cleared her throat again. “I thought he loved me. But, uh - but apparently, he didn’t, because he broke up with me. Um… it was…” She gave a dry laugh. “It was messy.” 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, because he wasn’t sure what else to say. 

“Yeah,” Olivia sighed, lifting the cigar to her lips and inhaling deeply. She breathed out, twisting her lips in an attempt to make a smoke ring, and then went on, “Yeah, that’s what they all say. And, uh - thanks. Me too. You know.” 

Harry bit his lip. Stayed quiet. 

Olivia breathed an exhale, and then handed him the cigar. “G’night, Harold.” 

“Night, Liv,” Harry murmured. 

She turned around, and walked away. 

Harry lifted the cigar to his lips and inhaled. 

It tasted like cinnamon and cherry chapstick. 

Harry watched the water and tried to make a smoke ring. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“I’m gonna go watch a rom com in my room,” Harry announced as he stood up and walked towards his bedroom. “And then I’m gonna go to bed.” Adam sighed, draining his glass as he got up too and stepped into the kitchen to rinse it out. 

Olivia glanced down at her cards, and Sarah raised an eyebrow at her. “I think,” Olivia said, “I’m gonna, uh - hit the hay, too…” Charlotte smirked. “You’re only leaving ‘cause you’re losing.” Olivia scoffed, flipping her cards over with a flourish to show a winning hand. “On the contrary!” 

Charlotte groaned, flicking her cards out of her hand and sending them flying. Olivia grinned. “Losers gotta clean up,” she said, walking away. “Have fun with that.” Sarah laughed, picking up her glass and hopping away from the table too. “I didn’t make the mess. Have fun, Char...” 

“Real nice of you guys, really,” Charlotte huffed. “Treat people with kindness, huh?” 

“All is fair in love and card games,” Olivia called. She went down the hall, passing her own room to knock on Harry’s. She rapped twice, hearing the faint sounds of a movie from under the door, and Harry said, “Come in.” 

Olivia opened the door and leant against the door frame. Harry was on the bed, writing something down in a notebook as the movie played on the television. He looked up as she walked in, looking a bit surprised, and then shut the notebook and said, “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Olivia replied. She nodded at the TV. “What’s this? 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Can’t tell? ‘s Notting Hill.” 

Olivia nodded. “Oh.” She paused, watching the screen, and then asked, “Is it good?” 

“Er - yeah,” Harry laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it?” 

Olivia shook her head. “Nope,” she said, and Harry scoffed. “You’re joking. Well, come on, then, got to watch it now…” Olivia hesitated, and his smile faded. “I mean - if you… if you want to. You know. You don’t have to.” 

“I’d love to,” Olivia said quietly, feeling herself smile. 

Harry grinned and scooched over, and Olivia curled up next to him. 

Olivia giggled as Harry rewinded to the beginning and began to give her an in depth explanation of each of the characters, their backstory, their actors, and the history of the entire movie and its effects on the rom com world. 

He talked through the entire movie, but Olivia didn’t mind. She’d missed him. 

She fell asleep in his arms, and it was the best sleep she’d had in weeks. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry woke up with Olivia curled up next to him, her head on his chest and her legs twined with his. He smiled at the ceiling, trying not to act like a fool and kiss her awake. It took all of his discipline, but he finally managed to untangle himself without waking her. 

He headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth before walking to the kitchen, flicking through his phone as he hummed the melody they were working on. “Well, look who decided to join us!” somebody exclaimed, and Harry looked up to see his producer sipping a cup of coffee at the table. 

“Jeffrey!” Harry crooned, wrapping him in a hug. “What’re you doing here?” 

“You guys are pathetically behind schedule,” Jeff said with a grin, “so I thought I’d come a few days early and get your asses moving.” Harry pouted, slipping his phone into his pocket as he poured a cup of coffee. “Genius takes time, Jeff.” 

“Uh-huh,” Jeff said skeptically. “Show me some of this genius, then. Have anything studio ready?” Sarah nodded from her place at the other end of the kitchen island. “Yeah, Kiwi’s done, right?” 

“Yup,” Harry replied. “And so is Carolina,” he went on, ticking off the songs on his fingers, “Coco, Two Ghosts, Baby Honey, and Enough.” He paused, and Jeff’s brows jumped. “That’s it?” he asked. Harry frowned. “Well, the angel song is almost done and I’m working on something with Livia…” 

“Oh, and the get better thing,” Adam chimed in, and Harry nodded. “That, too. We’ll probably have a few more done by the time we’re done with Kiwi…” Jeff shrugged. “As long as you’re sure.” 

“Jeff!” Charlotte said happily from behind Harry, coming into the kitchen and kissing Jeff on the cheek before grabbing a cup and pouring coffee. “You’re early, huh?” Jeff smiled. “Just a few days. Figured we’d get a head start on recording.” 

“Fantastic,” Charlotte replied, and Jeff frowned, glancing around at them. “You’re missing somebody,” he noticed. “Where’s Olivia?” Harry cleared his throat, taking a sip of his coffee before bluffing, “‘m not sure. I’ll see if she’s awake.” 

“How much you wanna bet he’ll knock on his own door?” he heard Sarah murmur to Charlotte as he walked away. Harry flushed, glad the kitchen was around a corner and they wouldn’t be able to snoop without being obvious. 

Harry knocked on his own door softly before stepping in. Olivia was still asleep, curled on her side. “Morning, love,” he murmured, gently shaking her shoulder. She sighed, curling deeper into the covers, before her eyes opened with a flash of panic. 

“Shit,” she breathed, sitting up hurriedly. “Did I -?” she broke off, looking around her, and laughed quietly, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “‘s fine,” Harry replied honestly. “Jeff’s here, though, and we were going to get started on recording…” 

“Oh, good,” Olivia said through a yawn. “I’ll be out in a sec. Lemme just… brush my teeth, and stuff…” She faded off, yawning again. “Sure,” Harry said. “Meet us in the studio?” She nodded, slipping out of the bed, and Harry walked back into the kitchen. 

“She needs a few minutes,” he told them. “But, er - we can get started.” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry collapsed on his bed, exhausted after a full day of recording. They got a few good takes of Kiwi in, so Jeff would probably mess about with those while they kept on with the writing process. Speaking of which… 

He sighed, grabbing one of his notebooks and a guitar to get on it. 

Just as he started to play, there was a knock on the door. 

“Come in,” he called, and Olivia walked in with a pencil behind her ear and a pick between her fingers. “Hi,” she said, fiddling with the pick. “Um… I was wondering if I could steal one of your, uh - notebooks? 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “May I ask… why…?” 

“I, uh - I have a melody, but… no words. At all.” She laughed, almost sheepishly, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. “I have no lyrics in my head at the moment, so… I thought I could steal some of yours?” 

Harry grinned. “I’d be honored.” He nodded towards a chest of drawers in the corner. “You can take anything in that top drawer. ‘s a bit of a mess, but, er - you know.” She murmured a thank you and sifted through the drawer, finally pulling a yellow one out. 

“This okay?” she asked, and Harry hesitated for a second, trying to remember if that was the yellow one with his songs about her in it or the yellow one with the New York idea… She fidgeted slightly, flipping it around, and he saw the cover. New York. “Oh, yeah - that’s fine,” he answered. 

“Wonderful,” she said. “Thanks a million.” 

And then she slipped out of the room. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry heard the song she’d taken the notebook for a few days later, in the quiet of the studio after everyone else had headed to bed. She strummed out a few chords, and then a little run before starting to sing. 

“Tell me something… tell me something, you must know something, just pretend you don’t… Pick your words 'cause there's no antidote for this thing you’ve done… Must this hurt me, just before you go?” There was a break, a few more chords, then, “Oh, tell me something I don't already know… something I don’t already know…” 

She finished, pressing her palm against the strings to quiet them. “Well?” 

Harry grinned, giving her a little round of applause. “Brilliant, Liv, really.” She flushed, waving him off. “Oh, they’re your lyrics.” Harry scoffed. “Christ, Liv, no they’re not. That was poetry - all I’d written was random words mushed together.” 

“Well, thanks,” she murmured. She held his gaze for a second, and she looked gorgeous, soft in the dim lighting of the studio, and Harry wanted to kiss her, and she was almost leaning in, and - 

She pulled away, yawning and stretching her hands to the ceiling. “So, Styles,” she sighed, leaning up against the wall, “what’ve you been up to?” Harry cleared his throat, shrugging slightly. “Erm - not much. Finished Only Angel…” 

Olivia smiled. “That should be fun to record.” 

“Can’t wait for that…” There was a beat of silence, and then Harry sighed. “Right, Liv,” he said, “tell me something I don’t know.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “Supposed to pick my words, too, huh?” Harry grinned. “Think it’s necessary for forming a sentence.” 

“You’re a pretentious little shit, you know that?” Olivia laughed. 

“C’mon, then, tell me something,” Harry said. 

“Like what?” 

“I dunno…” He looked around the studio, his gaze landing on the piano in the corner. “Piano or guitar?” he asked. Olivia bit her lip, hesitating for just a second before answering, “Guitar.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Really?” 

Olivia shrugged. “Yeah. It’s portable, and you can sing, like, anything with it.” She breathed a sigh, plucking a few notes on her guitar, sitting next to her. “‘sides, I’ve played it since I was… four…?” 

“Jesus,” Harry said with a smile. “I barely learned last year.” 

She grinned, looking up at him teasingly. “No wonder you’re so bad.” 

“Heeeeey,” Harry whined. “‘s not nice.” 

Olivia put her hands up in surrender. “Kidding, kidding. Not bad for a newbie.” 

“A newbie,” Harry echoed, and Olivia laughed, shaking her head. “I’m joking, Styles, you’re fan-friggin’-tastic.” Harry raised a brow. “Now you’re just mocking me.” Olivia grinned, standing up grabbing her guitar. “Maybe,” she said, “but, uh - I should sleep. And so should you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, smiling up at her from where he was still sitting on the floor. “That why you only talk to me at night, is it?” Olivia frowned. “Huh?” Harry grinned. “So you have an easy out, yeah? Every time something comes up... you’ve got to sleep.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Fuck off,” she laughed, giving him the finger as she walked away. 

Harry smiled. “Night, Liv.” 

“Night.” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

and that’s that!!! hope u liked it hehe

tell me: 

1. your favorite character in The Office 2. if you like the fancy design/border thingies I used hehe they’re new  3. your favorite chap stick flavor or!!! tell me anything!!! feedback is always much appreciated :) 

if you like what you see, you can find the Sunflower Series’s masterlist here, Fine Line: Side A’s masterlist here, and my complete masterlist here!  

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #164

Hey, not dropping the ball actually worked!

We’re just a hair’s length away from summer vacation, but unlike last year when Tomoko approached summer with not much consideration, she’s now taking a proactive role in deciding how to spend her last summer in high school. At first glance, Tomoko appears to have become a responsible, young lady. But as we soon will see, that can-do attitude may not be as refined as it looks on the surface.

Chapter 164: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Do My Best Starting From Summer Break 

There’s that time period during the day when most students have already left but school hasn't quite closed up. It’s pretty creepy, even more so before summer break when you’re expected not to stick around.

Have I mentioned Itou is a cute? ‘Cause she is.

It’s usually her looking after Komiyama, so it’s really sweet to see the dynamic flipped around like this. Despite, well, everything, Komiyama is a good friend.

Assuming that cheering for the baseball teams is optional, it’s endearing to see Itou go through with it. Even though baseball isn’t her thing, she’s likely doing it to support her bestie, which I can 110% get behind.

Ah, right. Dude’s in the manga club. That said, I wonder if their plans are for just being attendees, or if they’ll actually be manning a booth and selling their work. With his skills and, er, preferences, I think Hatsushiba could do the latter.

Don’t be so modest, Tomoko. There’s no slouching either when you’re a three-year veteran of the Going-Home Club. 

Studying during summer break? Outrageous!!

It’s intriguing to see just how Tomoko’s study habits have evolved throughout the series. The early days would see her spend summer goofing off on her hobbies, with bare minimum concern for academics. But now, Tomoko is actually considering studying on her own accord. Sure, it’s more-or-less a fallback when she has nothing else planned, but the thought itself is still worth mentioning.

Is that one of those mini-fans that you can carry around in your bag? I love those things.

Study camp, huh? Any other day, Tomoko would be apathetic to the idea, leaning more on the side of brushing it off. But having Katou bring it up makes all the difference, ‘cause let’s be real. Katou could ask her to sign up for a hostess bar at the Red Light District and Tomoko would still seriously consider it.

Miss you, Yuu-chan.

I second that, Komi. Fourteen hours of studying a day is brutal, even if that’s to be expected in what is essentially a boot camp. I’ve always questioned the efficiency of cram schools and the like, mostly because they seem to prepare more for short-term memorization than long-term understanding. But even it actually works in principle...

...I’m not sure Tomoko will be able to handle it.

Perhaps it’s just me, but it feels like Tomoko is overestimating her discipline for studying. She already struggled with Katou’s flashcards and study sessions that a whole training camp feels like it would have a more detrimental effect on Tomoko than a positive one. “Work hard, play hard” was never meant to be that extreme, Tomoko.

That’s...genuinely uplighting. Tomoko has missed out on several of the key “memorable” high school moments, and she usually lets it go with only mild regrets. But here, Tomoko’s actively trying to gain what she once lost. Sure, she’s trying to “game the social system” a little, but what did you expect? She’s a person, not a saint.

This was Yuu’s only line in this entire chapter. My girl deserves more than this.

Will the 2% of Tomoko’s personality that is tsundere ever realize that if you really “didn’t care either way”, then you wouldn’t have asked the question to begin with? Doubt it.  

That romaji tho.

It comes to the surprise of absolutely no one that Komiyama has some pretty...vivid fantasies about Tomoki. But what stands out to me is how deep into the relationship her thoughts go. Most people fantasize about their crush first in their sexual attractiveness, but only a few ever dream beyond that. Ironically, you know your crushing has gone off the deep end if you start thinking about them in domestic, SFW ways. Least Komi’s committed, yeah?

Gee, I wonder what’s that “and stuff” Tomoko’s talking about?masturbating

Nothing like a fresh bowl of Grossi-Os and Gross Juice to start the day!

If what Yuri says is true, then that would mean that she and Ucchi have probably walked to school together several times before–more than the couple of times we’ve seen, at least. And even so, it doesn’t look like they haven’t gotten much closer as friends, if at all. Some people just don’t click, I suppose.

Not sure how blind Ucchi is because anybody with a pair of eyes (beady or not) would see that Yuri has friends, even if you only count Mako. Poor girl just can’t accept the truth even when it's right in front of her face.

Ah, Yuri. Why can’t you just drop the “savior” act and just admit you want to spend time with her?

I’m inclined to agree about Yoshida, but who knows? She’s surprised us before. Mako's a safe bet, though. Especially if the former’s going. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Boy, does that take me back. It still blows my mind that all of Ucchi’s problems originated from one night of misunderstandings. The art nerd in me really appreciates the subtle improvement in Niko’s art style. The character models feel “weightier” and more consistent without compromising the stylization. 

You don’t see it in the previous panel, but Ucchi was totally blushing at the prospect of reliving her trauma/dream. Perhaps she was also looking to live out that ping pong match she never got.

I’m not sure if there was some kind of wordplay in the original text. Either way, it kind of sucks for Yuu-chan that she got such a “flattering” nickname when she wasn’t involved in that scenario whatsoever. Though it sure is a tad classier than Miss Akari “Dick Sister Jr.’ Iguchi.

It’s kind of (read: absolutely) frightening how Katou’s envy towards Yuu feels a lot more intense than Yuri’s. Perhaps it’s because Yuri’s so transparent that you know how to deal with her. But with Katou, that air of secrecy feels like a nuclear bomb about to go off. 

I always wondered where girls picked up that thing where they intertwine their fingers as a sign of affection. It’s precious.

Praise modern technology for convenient storytelling.

Wow, Fuuka’s already made her mark on Tomoko’s “bitch” list. Though exactly why she’s on that list now is kind of odd. I mean, yeah, she asked Tomoko about the whole fondling thing, and she unintentionally presented herself as a pervert for the whole “hair” thing, but Fuuka hasn’t really done anything all that terrible. If anything, Tomoko is probably expressing a rare bit of jealousy towards someone else supposedly perving on Katou besides her.

The most striking part about Fuuka’s inevitably failed plan is that she describes Tomoko’s appearance as “sudden”. It was touched on before, but it further emphasizes that Tomoko’s friendship with Katou was just as unexpectedly quick in-universe as it was for the readers. And in doing so, it brings us one step closer to the real mystery over why Katou is so enamored with Tomoko in the first place. 

Ya’ll know Sayaka’s got her homegirl’s back on this one. Let’s see (hopefully) how Akari screws it up. 

Chapter 58, mothereffers!

I don’t know whether I’d say Nico Tanigawa has been playing the long game, or if they just found a convenient throwaway to capitalize on. But the acknowledgment itself is very much appreciated. Tomoko may have forgotten, naturally, but us overzealous fans certainly never did! 

The chills, man. Chill’s right up the spine.

It’s certainly true that Tomoko’s words can be interpreted in a good or bad way, so it’s pretty telling that Katou’s gut reaction went for the latter. It suggests that Katou may actually have some insecurities that can easily set her off. Then again, a defining part of Katou’s personality is that she takes everything Tomoko says at completely face value, so maybe she’s starting to see Tomoko’s negativity even if it’s not there. Just more of the enigma that is Asuka Katou.  

Not a bad save, Tomoko. Countless battles with shame have made her quick on the fly. Unfortunately, while she’s improved at starting a save...

...she still doesn’t know how to end it.

It would’ve been a clean getaway if Tomoko had just ended about half-way in the above panel. But because Tomoko’s anxiety causes her to try and cover all the bases, she ends up rambling suspiciously. The part about Nemo isn’t even that relevant, but in her burst of defensiveness, Tomoko ends up saying things that could just exacerbate the problem even further.

Fucking shit, Katou is damn scary.

The one fortunate thing about Tomoko’s defensive rambles is that once she starts to cool down, her honesty starts coming out more organically. Self-deprecation becomes self-reflection, and brings to the forefront Tomoko’s endearing side.

Only Tomoko could spout such a cliché moe line and sound so pure of heart. Must be the irony. 

Aha. Ahaha. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

–that totally didn’t happen.

Tomoko, girl, you’re in the CLEAR! Stop trying to fan flames that have already been put out.

But on that note, it does affirm that while Tomoko is honest with Katou about certain things (perversion, laziness), she isn’t quite ready to be honest on anything that would paint Katou in a bad light. I’d say tha’st about 85% due to fear.

Death Flags raised all around.

I had a feeling that Nemo would take the plunge this time and invite Tomoko out somewhere during the summer. It seems like such an insignificant gesture, but considering that this is the very first time a classmate has asked to hang out with her during the summer, it warms my heart.

Hey now, Tomoko. Don’t get cocky when you’re maximizing your own goof-off time by taking a study camp.

The easy guess is that Nemo wants to go to Comiket. But really, it could be anything that Tomoko would have an interest in. And because it’s implied that Nemo is going for research purposes, it could be anything from a seiyuu panel (the last one went so well) to a hot spring to a hentai game company. Hope they bring Okada along...

Mama senses her daughter’s giving in to peer pressure.

Not gonna lie. This hand gesturing from Rena made me think that she was thinking about doing...something else.

Damn mind-in-the-gutter.

Even though Anna doesn’t appear to be the studious type, it’s pretty cool to see that she can respect people who are. Also, I dig the way she wears her tie (or is that a ribbon?). 

Emoji II really has become an honorary delinquent and it fits her perfectly. 

I guess no matter how much more grounded Tomoko becomes, she still thinks reading manga is legitimate practice for playing in real-life (though tabletop games may actually allow for some truth).  

Sub!Tomoko confirmed.

What a way to end a chapter. For the longest, Katou had always viewed Tomoko through a pair of rose-tinted glasses, always seeing the girl’s faults as endearing “quirks”. But as her soul-piercing gaze seems to indicate, Katou has reached a revelation about Tomoko that she can actually disapprove of. Whether or not it’ll shatter her illusion of Tomoko is still unclear, but how she treats Tomoko from here on out may finally give us a deeper look into Katou’s psyche. 

160+ chapters we’ve followed Tomoko, and we’re still learning new things about her. The very extent of Tomoko’s agency has always been a tad murky. She’s good at (poorly) executing short-term ideas, but hardly does she plan out and follow up on her long-term goals. Even her greatest milestone of making friends involved a lot of pushing from outsiders (Ogino, the most obvious case). That said, having to take charge of herself for once is inescapable with college on the horizon. How she goes about it amongst her various mom-friends may end up being Tomoko’s biggest personal challenge yet.  

[tayegi]

Seven Days Ch. 1 (m)

A series of short smut ficlets detailing every day of Jungkook’s week-long chastity training.

Warning: BDSM themes; sub!Jungkook smut

***

Day 1

"Damn girl, how many guys have you gone through this year alone?" Jungkook asks with amusement as he watches your latest rejected lover bang on the front door from his vantage point leaning against the balcony railing.

You sigh deeply, "He's the third failure… And this one only lasted 10 days this time. How is it getting worse?"

"It's because you don't know how to pick them right," He idly comments as he watches your former boytoy cause a scene yelling your name down below.

"___!" He shouts, "___, I'm sorry! Please give me another chance!"

You wince as you take another deep swig from your glass, "Oh my god… This is so embarrassing. We were together for less than two weeks. How can he be acting like this already?"

"Was the sex really that good?" Jungkook asks with a raised brow as he turns to face you.

"Oh, like you wouldn't believe," you say with a chuckle. "But aren't you just nosy?"

He smirks in response, "I'm just curious as to what would cause a seemingly normal, self-respecting guy to act in such a humiliating way," he says, cringing slightly when the boy on the doorstep suddenly bursts out hysterical wails of your name. "Wow. You must have given him the fuck of his life."

You roll your eyes, "Once again, you prove your extreme ignorance in the realm of BDSM. That's not how it works, babe."

Jungkook is completely unfazed by your correction. In fact, his smirk only grows in size, "Is that so? Well, then I guess you'll just have to teach me…"

You eye your housemate warily, perfectly aware of his intentions. Jungkook has been flirty with you since the day you moved in, and this flirtiness has exponentially increased upon the discovery of your hidden kinky side. You don't run into him often in the huge co-op with dozens of occupants, but every time the two of you have crossed paths in the kitchen or the lounge spaces, he has made his interest painfully obvious… Not that you've ever taken him seriously. He's a fuckboi by every definition of the word, and he'd proposition anything breathing. He's only taken a recent interest to you due to the seemingly exotic and taboo nature of your sexual interests.

And you don't mind it. Although he can be rather sleazy at times, it's lighthearted fun. And besides, who wouldn't welcome attention from the gorgeous brunette?

You lightly push your hair back as you return his smile with a coy one of your own, "Oh, sweetheart. You precious little boy. You wouldn't survive chastity training with me. I would wreck you."

But rather than scaring him off, your warning only increases his interest. Jungkook slowly runs his tongue over his bottom lip, "Mmm. And how is that supposed to be a bad thing?" he asks, taking a long stride forward to encroach in your space.

Slowly, you raise your glass to your lips and take a sip of the rich liquor before responding, "You're very spoiled, Jeon Jungkook," you inform him in a slow drawl, "With your body and that cute little face of yours, I bet you have girls eating out of your hand. You can make girls do whatever you want in bed, huh?"

His lips curl into a shit-eating grin, "Ah, so you've heard the rumors?"

"That's not a compliment," you say with a laugh, "You're so used to getting what you want; to having girls line up to suck your dick at the drop of a hat, that you have absolutely no discipline or self-control. You wouldn't be able to handle a woman like me, baby boy."

He likes the nickname. You can tell by the way his eyes darken and he subconsciously shifts forward until his knees brush the edge of your chair. "How can you be so sure of that, princess?" he asks in a husky voice.

You can't deny the way it sends shivers down your back. Despite your best intentions, you are helpless attracted to your sexy housemate. And you're quickly forgetting why this would be a bad idea. "Damn, Jeon. I didn't know that you were the submissive type."

"I'm not," he chuckles, "I'd much rather be in control. But for you? I'd do anything you want to get at that sweet little pussy of yours. So you gotta tie me up and whip me or whatever, I'm game… Damn, even that sounds hot coming from you."

"I don't know if you're joking or not… But you do realize that in chastity, I wouldn't let you anywhere near my pussy for a very long time?"

"Mmhmm, and that's fine. As long as I get to it at the end."

"Oh my god," you gasp, "Jungkook, are you actually serious about this?!"

"As serious as I've ever been," he says. "Come on, ___. At least I'd be better than that guy."

And right on cue, your former sub screams out your name at that very second, "___! Please give me another chance! I'll be a good boy, mistress!"

Your face fills with heat and you quickly drop your head in shame, "Fuck my life," you groan, "Why does this always happen to me?"

"You know I'd never act like that, no matter what happens," Jungkook points out.

You slowly raise your head to look at him. He's definitely just doing all that he can to get in your pants… But he does have a point… The cocky fuckboi would never cause all this drama, even if you ended things. This might not be such a bad idea… "Oh god, I can't believe I'm actually considering this."

Jungkook's grin spreads from ear to ear, "It's thirty days, right? When do we start?"

"Wait, wait, hold up," you say, waving your hands up in front of him, "A month of chastity training is for experienced subs. I doubt you would even last a week," you snort.

He cocks an eyebrow, "Didn't that screaming idiot downstairs last 10 days?"

"Yeah, but—"

"So you think that I can't even beat that loser?"

Fire burns in his eyes, and you sigh in dismay as you realize that you have unintentionally sparked his competitive side. "Why don't we take a week as a practice trial?" you offer, "If you can last through this week, then I'll admit that I've underestimated you."

"And?" he asks, looking expectant, "Is that it?"

"What do you mean?" you ask with a frown, "What do you want then?"

"Well, it just seems like I deserve a reward for enduring your torture for an entire week," he says with a grin, "So what do I get in return?"

You laugh as you finally catch on, "Anything you want," you easily agree, "If you can last through my chastity training for seven full days, I'll let you do whatever you want to me."

He cocks his head to the side as he considers your offer, "What if what I want is to fuck you until your legs give out?"

A sliver of arousal slides down your back. You lick your lips, "Then I would ask you whether you'd prefer me on my back or on my hands and knees…"

Jungkook's eyes darken so much that the pupil overflows his irises, "Fuck…" he curses, "When do we start? Tomorrow?"

"Why wait?"

And with that, you jump to your feet and snatch his hand to drag him off to your room, both of you immediately forgetting about the hysterical man downstairs.

***

"Here we go. This is all we need," you say as you dump a small plastic contraption on the bed next to Jungkook.

The dark-haired man picks up the translucent device with interest, "Is this the chastity cage? It doesn't look that scary."

"That's because I'm starting you on the easy level since you're new. We'll move to the steel one if you misbehave…"

"Hmm this is fine then… although—wait, did you use this on that loser?!" he asks, eyes popping open with disgust.

"Of course not," you snort, "I've never used this on anyone because I've never been nice enough to use plastic before. You should consider yourself lucky."

"Oh…" he says, "Thanks, I guess?"

You simply shake your head in response, "Let's start with some ground rules, okay? The first and most important rule is the safe word. I need to make sure that what we do together is completely consensual and if you feel uncomfortable at any time, you are more than welcome to use your safe word. I promise that I will stop whatever I'm doing as soon as I hear it, and I will do everything I can to make you feel safe and secure again."

"Damn… That sounds hardcore."

Concerned, you reach over to touch his knee, "It's not too late to back out if you want to. No judgement, I swear."

But he gives you a look as though you're crazy, "Are you serious? Why would I ever back out? No, bring on the hardcore. Give me all you've got."

Your lips twitch with amusement, "Pain and torture isn't all about whips and handcuffs and whatever other dungeon porn you're envisioning," you inform him, "Sometimes the methods can be much subtler… But every bit as torturous."

"I don't care. I'm down for anything."

You bite back the urge to laugh at his foolhardy naivety, "Ok… But don't forget that you asked for it… Although you can back out at anytime. Use colors to indicate how you're feeling. I'll check in with you occasionally, and you should say 'green' if it's okay to proceed, 'yellow' if I should slow down, and 'red' if I need to stop immediately. But you can use these color words at any time when you feel uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

"Of course," he says, "I've always had a safeword with everyone I've slept with, so this is nothing new."

You smile at that, pleased by his thoughtfulness, "That's good to hear. Now this is the chastity cage," you say, pointing to the plastic object still in his grip, "It's set to lock up your flaccid penis so that you can't get an erection. And if you try, it'll be very painful. You are to wear this cage for the entire week, except when I choose to take it off of you or when I am washing it. Do you understand?"

"Sure. That's what I expected."

"Great. Now here is the key to it," you say, reaching under your shirt to pull out a long chain from which a tiny silver key dangles as a pendant. "Only I have the ability to set you free. So don't you even bother trying to tamper with the cage."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now are you ready to begin?"

"Hell yeah. You gonna put this cage on me now?"

"No," you say with a glimmer of a smile, "First I need to prepare you."

"Prepare me?" he says with an arched eyebrow, "How do you go about doing that?"

"Why, by emptying your balls, of course."

He starts at that, "What?"

Your lips unfurl into a wide smile, "Do you have a problem with that, sweetheart?"

"No of course not. I just didn't expect it so soon—not that I'm complaining or anything. God, that's fucking hot. Yes, princess. Do whatever you want to me."

Your smile grows in size, "I'll make you regret saying that."

He simply scoffs in response, "I'm not one of your weak, feeble-minded boytoys. I know you don't have much experience with a real man, so this might come as a surprise."

You snicker at his boasting. "I'll enjoy making you eat your words," you promise in an ominous tone as you reach over to slide both hands under his hoodie, "Now shut up and strip."

He eagerly obeys, pulling the garment straight off his head before doing the same with his t-shirt. Your eyes widen at the sculpted perfection of his lean torso and the complete confidence with which he undresses. Maybe he is a bit different than your previous lovers…

"Like what you see?" he teases when he catches your hungry gaze.

You quickly snap your eyes up to his face, "Not bad," you quip, "Now take off the rest. I wanna see what you're packing."

He doesn't hesitate to unbuckle his belt and yank his jeans and boxers off in one fell swoop. His cock proudly stands tall at once, so thick and swollen that you would've thought you'd already started the torture. He's the biggest you've ever seen and your mouth goes dry with slight trepidation.

Jungkook catches on at once, "Don't be scared, baby," he purrs, "I'll try not to hurt you."

Your eyes narrow, "You're cute to think you'll get anywhere near my pussy."

"We'll see about that… Now are you going to blow me already or…?"

"What makes you think that you deserve my mouth?" you shoot back as you reach over to lightly encircle his engorged length with two fingers. You're dismayed to find that your fingers can barely touch around his thickness.

"Mmm. Seven days, princess... Just you wait."

You tsk your tongue, "It's a good thing you're so pretty," you say as you lightly run your fingers up and down his length, "I'm really going to enjoy the next week…"

"Pretty?" he spits back in surprise, "Are you fucking high or something?"

It's obvious that the cocky man has never been described with such effeminate terms before. He's probably only had girls beg for his dick and call him 'daddy.'" A smile spreads across your face and you quickly drop to your knees to swipe your tongue across the sensitive ridge of his tip.

Jungkook's breathing falters, "Fuck… I thought you said I didn't deserve your mouth?"

"I'm feeling generous today," you say as you begin to lap at the swollen head of his cock, "Besides, how else will you know what you're missing?" And with that, you sink your mouth down on him as far as you can.

The dark-haired man throws his head back with a hiss of pleasure, both hands planted into the mattress behind him as he leans back for support, "Fuck, that's good… Oh god, I can't believe this is actually happening."

You hum around his length as you begin a harsh pace, swallowing him down and sucking so hard that his head spins.

"Shit!" he curses, hands jerking out to grab at your hair, as though to hold you in place. Later on, you'd punish him for the audacity to touch you without permission, but this time, you'll let it slide. "How are you so good at this?! Fuck, I'm close."

You briefly consider pulling off to tease him, but decide to save that for another day. It's much more fun to lull him into a false sense of security. So you lave your tongue against the base of his cock and reach down to fondle his balls.

Jungkook tips his head back and moans in such a wanton way that heat floods between your legs. God, he's so hot that you don't know who enjoys this more. Every muscle in his ridiculously toned, muscular body is strained, six-pack abs flexing with each breath and biceps bulging from the tight hold he has on your hair. And the sweat that flows across his honey skin and plasters his dark hair to his neck… You'd like nothing more to lick every drop off his tight little body. But first things first…

"Cum for me, Jungkook," you coax so sweetly as you come up for a breath before jerking forward to bury his cock down your throat until your nose is brushing his pelvis.

"Oh my god, ___!" he exclaims, hands tightening on your hair so hard that it hurts. But it's so fucking sexy that you can't help but moan over his dick, determined to suck him dry.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he curses over and over as his eyes roll back in his head and his knuckles turn white, "Your mouth is so fucking hot. I'm gonna. I'm—oh fuck!" he practically bellows as his hips surge forward and he messily spills his seed down your throat.

You patiently massage your tongue over his twitching length until he groans from overstimulation and pulls out. Then, you lick your lips to catch the milky cum that escaped the corners of your mouth.

Jungkook groans at the sight, "Fuck, that's hot."

You laugh and rise to your feet to gather him in your arms, "Good job, baby," you coo as you rub your hands over his broad back and plant little kisses over his sweaty face, "You did so well."

Jungkook is equal parts bemused and confused, "I've never been praised for just cumming before," he pants, trying to catch his breath and slow his still-racing pulse, "This is a new one."

You giggle as you thread your hands through his mussed hair and pet him affectionately, "It's because you're so pretty when you cum," you tell him. "And you taste so good. What a good boy!"

"This is kinda weird... but I can't say I hate it," Jungkook wryly comments as he turns to allow you to nuzzle his neck.

You press your lips against the underside of his jaw to hide a smirk. If only he knew that you were just buttering him up for the slaughter… "Let's get you cleaned up so I can put the chastity cage on, okay?"

"Sure," he easily agrees, flopping over on the bed with a deep sigh of contentment as he watches you shuffle through the contents of your nightstand through bleary eyes.

You find a pack of wipes and take your time in cleaning him up, paying special attention to his soft cock lying across his thigh. Jungkook hisses softly through his teeth when you clean off the excess cum and saliva off his length, then sits up with confusion when he feels a cool sensation against his base.

"Ah, what’s that?" he asks, staring down at the plastic ring sliding down his length with wide eyes.

"This part holds the entire cage in place," you explain as you gently attempt to fold his soft length over as carefully as you can, "Does this hurt?"

"No, it's fine."

"That's good. I was afraid that it wouldn't fit," you say as you carefully slide the head of his cock into the aerated plastic cover. "It's a bit of a tight fit… But this is only more reason not to get hard."

"So I can’t get hard in this thing?" Jungkook asks with a raised brow.

"You can try," you grin, "But it might be a painful experience… I wouldn't recommend it."

"Eh, it's fine," he says with a lazy stretch of his arms over his head, "You sucked me so good, I'm totally satisfied. I won't even want another orgasm for the rest of the week."

Your lips twitch, "Are you sure of that, Jungkook?"

"Yeah. I know you see me as this crazy horndog, but I'm really not like that. I have self-control, babe. And as hot as you are, I'm not gonna lose my shit trying to hump you like a dog or something."

"Alright… Whatever you say," your tone is skeptical as you try not to laugh. He really is just so cute and naïve. "There, all done," you say as you slide the lock around the cage and give it a little kiss. "Like I said before, only I have the key so don't even bother trying to escape."

"All I gotta do is wear this for a week?" Jungkook asks as he touches the device with curiosity, "No big deal."

"I don't think you're understanding, baby boy," you say, voice hardening, "This cage is just a symbol. But your cock now belongs to me. I get to choose what I want to do with you whenever I want. You are mine. Do you understand?"

"Y-yeah," he stammers, eyes as wide as saucers, "Fuck yeah."

"Good boy," you coo as you hug him to your chest and kiss the top of his head, "Now put your clothes back on and get out of my room."

"Wait, what?! ___, I thought—"

You ignore him to gather his clothes and throw them on the bed, "Don't make me repeat myself."

Gulping at the warning in your voice, he hurries to obey, "I just… I don't understand. Don't you want me to reciprocate first or something?" he asks, wincing when the fabric of his pants brushes his caged penis.

"Oh, sweetheart," you sigh as you cup his face in both hands, "I don't think you're fully understanding… So let me explain one more time: I am in control here, understand? I will decide when and if you get to put your filthy hands on my body. You did good today, but not nearly good enough to get a taste of my pussy. If you continue to perform so well, I might feel generous. But I call every shot here, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," he automatically chirps.

His obedience pleases you, "What a good boy," you gush as you give his cheeks a little squeeze, "I think I'm going to thoroughly enjoy the next week… Now get out of my sight."

Jungkook ogles at you in surprise, even as he rushes to yank on his shirt, "Wait, but ___! When will I see you again?!"

"Sometime tomorrow… Whenever I feel like it."

"But, ___!" he complains, "I—"

But you've already shoved him out the door. What an interesting start to Jungkook's week of chastity… Only, you fear that he might be too comfortable. Next time he leaves your bedroom, you'll have to make sure that he's in tears.

You lick your lips at the image. Oh, this is going to be so much fun.

***

A/N: Please don’t ask me about updates! 

[britishassistant]

Bothering to Look 1

A piece inspired by @camellianswer ‘s submission, which fails to actually answer it in this first part. I’m sorry ;-;

Nana was a weirdo.

Not just in the normal way, of being a cowardly bowl-cut crybaby with eye bags instead of a spine, though it was funny to see him stagger and sink to the floor in despair when Upa called him that.

No, Nana was all those things, but he had to go and be weird in another way as well.

His presence was like a particularly annoying itch, one that grated incessantly at the edges of his senses, dulled as they were by the talisman.

He hadn’t noticed it as much when they first met, given that they’d only spent a limited amount of time together before Nana’s little “incident” that Samon-san kept annoying silent about. However, with each subsequent visit to the game room and each time Cell 6 came to Building 5 for exercise, the prickling sensation gradually grew and grew in intensity until Upa felt he might snap and punch the child clear through a building if only for the mild relief distance would bring.

But he didn’t, because Samon-san had taught him that would be bad and it would make Nico whine. See? He knew how to interact with people outside the underworld.

Take that, pig bastard.

Still, there was something wrong with that inmate. It was all the qigong master could do to maintain his caustically civil veneer in order to keep Nico happy. That guy was weirdly taken with the newbie ever since he’d shown an interest in the plots of his japanese games and comic books.

He really was too easily pleased at times. A disciple of his should have more self-discipline than that.

Well, whatever.

The one thing Upa had noticed about this irritation, though, was that it got stronger whenever Nana’s identity was brought up. He didn’t seem to get that the point of the numbers, and the names based off of them, was to protect the inmates’ identities, given the high likelihood of encountering someone dangerous with a grudge and few scruples in this place.

Sure, Upa himself knew the real names of Liang and the trash, but he wasn’t about to go out blabbing this valuable information willy-nilly, and vice-versa. The not-so-beautiful member of Cell 6 went off shouting about how he was Johnny Powers at every introduction, and most other opportunities besides.

The vehemence he displayed in dispensing his name was oddly contrasted with the child’s timidity in all other situations.

It was tempting to punch him in the shins to get him to shut up at times.

But again. Samon-san’s teachings and the infectee’s whining outweighed the satisfaction which might come from the action.

So he refrained, like a model citizen.

Upa thought he recognized the name a little, despite himself. Before the pig bastard got busted, he’d begun complaining about some upstart British brat who was trying to muscle in on his territory. Of all the guys who’d been sent out to deal with him, only one had come back, and he’d died immediately after arriving.

Of course, he was probably misremembering. If Johnny Powers was Nana, there was no way he could be the gang leader who was giving the chinese mafia such trouble. An notable underling of that guy, perhaps, but not the ruthless leader.

The last straw came about, like most things, because of Nico.

The pair of them were discussing the music for one of Nico’s japanese cartoons while Upa himself attempted to reassert his mastery of the dreaded claw machine. The pretty-boy pushover guard had said something about a new figure that was placed inside which Upa was determined to win.

For some reason, the conversation had drifted to robot singers, (Japan was weird as well, but that was a gripe for another day), which Nana was weirdly knowledgable about.

“So do you know any of the Evillious Chronicles? Y’know, the one with the seven deadly sins and everything?” He asked eagerly.

“That word sounds made up.” Upa contributed.

The claw grasped the foot of the figure, only to slip off harmlessly for the nth time when it raised back into the air.

“Is that the one with the Princess and Servant of Evil? With the blond twins?” Nico replied, absent-mindedly patting Upa’s shoulder to calm his temper and keep him from blowing this stupid, pointless machine to bits.

Nana, for his part, was quiet for a moment, before he shakily answered, “Ye-Yes, that’s—that’s the one. Um.”

Upa was able to grasp a leg, when Nana spoke again. “Umm, Nico? You—you know how Servant of Evil ends, right?”

The prickling feeling intensified as the crane’s claws lost their grip on the felt and the figure dropped back into the pile of plushies halfway to the exit.

“Ah, yeah. With the servant pretending to be the princess and getting executed instead of her, right? That bit seriously made me cry, especially when he smiles at her in the crowd! Uno had to hug me for a really long time after.”

“How could anyone mistake a boy for a girl?” Upa gritted out, somewhat irate at the dual sources of irritation. “Even if they look alike, there are too many differences for it to be feasible in real life.”

“But those two were twins, y’know? And they were only kids, like 14 or something, so they hadn’t had puberty yet.” Nico argued.

“I’m certain that puberty has already started at that stage.” Upa countered. “Besides, even children have differences that would make their genders obvious in the long term. The only way it would work is if everyone else was a moron and couldn’t see what was right in front of their faces.”

There was a moment of blessed silence wherein Upa could finally concentrate before Nana opened his mouth again. “What. What if he was forced? The servant, I mean?”

The claws completely missed the toy this time as Nico tilted his head. “Forced?”

“Like, if he didn’t want to die for the princess’s crimes, but the prince—“ Nana turned his head and coughed into the palm of his hand. “Excuse me—the princess had a way to make it so he had to take her place, and couldn’t tell anyone the truth. What if that was the case?”

The grating sensation was raging like a wildfire, and Upa had to grit his teeth to keep from lashing out.

The claw closed over the toy’s arm.

“I don’t think that’s what happened, Nana-chan.” Nico said slowly. “I mean, it’s pretty clear he’s willing, in the song’s lyrics and PV.”

Nana laughed, but it was weak and strained. “I guess so, huh? Don’t mind me, then. Just wondering about hypotheticals. My version wouldn’t make as good a song, would it?”

The toy fell to its doom again, a mere second before it would have dropped to freedom through the exit.

That. Was. It.

Upa had had enough of this damn irritation distracting him when he was trying to do even the most menial of tasks.

He glared at Nana from the corner of his eye, willing him to knock off whatever the hell he was doing before Upa knocked his lights out.

And froze.

He’d never thought to take notice of Nana’s aura before. It didn’t seem like anything special when they first met, so he hadn’t given it much attention beyond that.

Now though...

Red energy was encircling his throat, almost ribbon-like in its delicacy, criss-crossing over itself until it resembled some demented version of a hangman’s noose.

His hands were swaddled in the stuff as well, each finger ensnared in a complex knot that made it seem almost impossible to move them. Some strands drifted upwards from his throat, almost innocently, to embed themselves in his lips and twist around his tongue to the point where it seemed amazing that he didn’t choke with every word.

The worst part, however, was the pulsing red mass of the stuff on the left side of the boy’s chest. It was tangled and twisted, knotted and snarled, until it was impossible to tell where one strand ended and another began.

And it was twined into and around the openings of Nana’s heart like a snake around a hapless mouse, just waiting for the chance to squeeze the life out of its struggling victim.

“Shishou?”

Upa startled back to reality to see his wannabe-apprentice and the child staring at him in concern. “Do you want me to take over for you on the claw machine?”

“No. I’m fine.” He responded in a clipped tone, mind racing a mile a minute as he restarted the game.

It wasn’t doing Nana any harm this very second, but the tangled appearance of that energy was likely more intentional than haphazard— it was wound so tightly and so confusingly around Nana’s aura and itself that merely attempting to cut it out could prove ineffectual at best and fatal at worst.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Upa-san?” And oh god, he could still see the strands moving with Nana’s mouth as he talked.

“I told you, I’m. Fine.” But you aren’t, he thought to himself as his hands moved the controller on autopilot. How long had he been living with this? Did he even know?

There was no way he didn’t. Upa reasoned. As extensive as this was, it was still new enough that it hadn’t incorporated itself into his aura entirely, as evidenced by the bright red coloration. If Upa had to guess, he’d say it had been implemented perhaps four weeks ago, maybe more.

“Yay, Shishou! You did it!”

Upa blinked at his enthusiastic cheerleader, then down at the clear plastic cover of the game’s opening. Slowly, he reached down and pulled the soft prize out from the machine’s interior.

He stared at it, for a moment.

Nana clapped his shoulder. “Well, I completely understand if you’re disappointed. I could give it to Kiji-san or somebody if you don’t want it? Though I’m not entirely sure who would.”

“Eeeh, but the mini-Nana-chan is so cute!” Nico protested, poking the soft blue felt of the toy’s stomach. “Plus it’s a super-ultra-rare item right now, so you should have more confidence in it and yourself!”

He reached out and patted Nana’s head, and then his hair turned a very familiar shade of teal while Nana’s went bright green.

“Ah.”

“NOT AGAIN!!” Came the braided scaredy-cat’s cry as the disease ripped through the game room, causing chaos in its wake.

Later that evening, Upa carefully placed his latest prize next to the others, making it sit beside the mini-Nico he had already acquired.

“Oi, trash.”

“Eh?” Qi poked his head up from where he was trying to stash Inori’s latest batch of dirty magazines. “What’s up?”

“What happened to that British gang leader who was giving the pig bastard a hard time?”

Liang stopped doing muscle training to stare at the question. Upa studiously ignored him.

Qi swallowed and adjusted his glasses. “Why do you ask?”

Upa shrugged. “Just curious. Do you know or don’t you?”

Qi scratched his ear. “Not really, no. I just remember doing an autopsy on the guy who came back from that assassination attempt.”

“Oh?” Upa said, trying hard to sound uniterested. “How did he die?”

“Well, that’s the thing.” Qi took off his glasses and rubbed them on his jumpsuit. “Hachiman killed the poor bastard after he tried to kill the pig. Some of the others said that the English had gotten into his head, made him an offer he couldn’t refuse if he turned traitor. There were some really weird rumors though.”

“I remember those.” Liang added. “Didn’t they say that the British guy could control bodies or something? Like through a doll or a puppet, or an attack charm.”

Maybe not through those mediums, Upa thought. But if the puppet strings were tied to someone’s aura? Then that gang leader might have a wind-up toy that only needed the right trigger to set it off.

“Ah~ That’s too creepy.” Qi whined, shuddering. “I’m no good with European horror, not at all.”

“We’ll use that to wake you every morning too then, you late-rising scumbag.” Upa replied dismissively, turning back to his task.

“I’m begging you, don’t!”

He considered for a moment, then placed the mini-Upa on the mini-Nana’s other side, bracketing them in with the mini-Liang and Trash, then with the mini guards.

That weirdo needed all the protection he could get, he decided.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

We’ll Carry On - Chapter Fifty Three

We’ll Carry On Tag

General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia

April 12th, 2019

It hurt Virgil to know that Granny wasn’t able to come visit them. Not just because she wasn’t feeling well, but because Mom was giving her trouble, trying to figure out where Virgil and Pat lived now. It hurt to know that Granny had to change her routine, had to change where she got her mail, had to change almost everything in order to make sure that Virgil and Patton were safe. He appreciated the effort, but he still felt bad.

She said it was no problem, but he wasn’t so sure. It couldn’t be easy to handle everything. Supporting her grandkids without letting her own daughter know. He winced. He knew that he wasn’t going to feel good about that for a long while. He just hoped that his mother would stay gone.

August 4th, 2020

Virgil had just about had it with Roman. He was being so positive, so cheerful, so...peppy and it was driving him up the wall. Virgil was trying to keep his problems to himself, honestly, but it just...wasn’t working. When Roman starting singing a song for the third time in twenty minutes, Virgil snapped, “What is your problem?! Can’t you stay quiet for five minutes?!”

Everyone in the general vicinity stared at him and he turned red, running to his and Patton’s room and slamming the door, sitting against it. He buried his head in his knees and let himself cry, just a little bit. He knew crying was ultimately good for him, but he was still hurting, and he didn’t quite want to acknowledge the why just yet.

There was a gentle knock on the door. “Virgil?” Roman called. “Can I come in?”

“No,” Virgil said, cursing his voice for cracking.

A gentle thud followed, no doubt Roman resting his head on the door. “I want to help, Virgil. What did I do wrong?”

Virgil didn’t respond. He was too choked up, and he hated to admit that Roman hadn’t done anything wrong. Virgil was just being too sensitive, a crybaby, an anxious mess, all sorts of things Charles used to call him and some new terms thrown in the mix as well.

After some indeterminable time, there was another knock, closer to the ground but not quite at his level. That had to be Patton. He cracked open the door and Patton said, “I know you wanna be alone, but I kinda need some stuff in here. Can I come in?”

Virgil backed up and opened the door, letting Patton come in and look around the room for what he needed. Virgil sat in a ball on his formerly neat bed, and watched as Patton got what he needed and left the room, with the door open. Virgil buried his head in his knees. He wasn’t trying to be like Charles, honestly, but this just sort of...happened.

Then, another knock at the door, and Virgil inwardly sighed. Roman just...didn’t give up! “Go away,” he growled.

“Can we at least talk first?” Roman asked.

“What is there to talk about?!” Virgil demanded. “No, really, Disney Prince, what is there to talk about?! You’re loud, and obnoxious, and really irritating when you want to be! You never shut up, you never stop annoying me, and you’re never not happy!”

Virgil’s breath was heaving in his chest and Roman just...stood there, taking the hit. “You know, if you’re going to call me names, we could shorten ‘Disney Prince’ to just ‘Princey’ in a pinch.”

“Case in point!” Virgil yelled, jumping off his bed. “You never stop doing that! Why can’t you understand that I’m just the bad guy?! Because everyone else loves when you do those stupid things that drive me well and truly up the wall!”

Roman continued to stand in the doorway, saying nothing. Then, “What brought this on?”

Virgil scowled.

“Virgil, you never say you’re the bad guy unless you’re trying to protect yourself from something or someone. Everyone in the house knows this. And we’ll find out what happened sooner or later,” Roman reasoned.

Eyes flitted towards Virgil’s desk and back, but clearly Roman had caught the movement. “Something on your desk? Or inside it?”

Virgil sighed and walked over to his desk, opening the top drawer and bringing out a letter. He passed it silently to Roman. Roman read the first part of it aloud. “‘Dear Patton and Virgil...Congratulations, you got your wish. You never have to live with me or your stepfather again. But too bad you can’t have your cake and eat it too, because I now know where you live. You two decided to be little pieces of...’ Oh, geez! That’s horrible! Your mother wrote this?!”

Virgil nodded. “And she refuses to give up later on in the letter. She says to ‘expect more.’ I’m lucky that I got the mail that day instead of Patton. I came up here, read it, hid it. No one else should have to worry.”

Roman read the entire thing in the span of a minute and he paled considerably the more and more he read. “Did you tell Dad or Ami?”

“It’s not like they can do anything about it,” Virgil said with a shrug.

“Actually, they can,” Roman said. “But we need to tell them about it sooner rather than later. Are you in?”

Virgil hesitated. He really didn’t like where this was going. If Dad and Ami found out about this, they’d be mad he hid it from them, wouldn’t they? Wouldn’t he get in trouble?

“Are you in?” Roman repeated.

With a sigh, Virgil nodded. “Yeah, Princey, I’m in.”

Roman nodded and offered a hand to Virgil, which Virgil gently took. Roman then led him down the stairs, through the door leading to the basement, and down another flight of stairs, where Dad and Ami were arguing quietly. Roman cleared his throat. “I got our resident ‘bad guy’ here out of his room all on my own,” he said. “And I know why he’s been so out of sorts recently.”

Virgil turned to Roman in surprise. “Recently?” he asked.

“You really think we wouldn’t notice?” Roman asked, sounding genuinely offended. “You’re family, Virge. Of course we noticed!”

Virgil took back his hand and crossed his arms, staring at the ground. Roman sighed. “So do you want to tell them? Or should I? Fair warning, I will not be kind to you-know-who about her actions.”

When Virgil didn’t respond right away, Roman waved the letter around and said, “This bi—” before getting cut off.

“Language!” Dad and Ami said at roughly the same time.

“Don’t call her that!” Virgil cried indignantly.

Roman rolled his eyes. “Virgil and Patton’s mom figured out our new address and decided to write them. And she was not kind.”

Ami took the letter and read it over, before muttering, “Son of a...” and passing it to Dad.

Dad’s eyebrows rose the more he read, and at the end of it he said with absolute certainty, “I’m going. To kill her.”

“Mm, not recommended,” Ami said. “However, I would suggest a restraining order.”

“Yeah,” Dad agreed. “I’ll make a call or two and get that set up. Because this,” he waved the letter around, “Is not okay.”

Virgil gripped his own arms in a vice and tried to not feel bad. But it wasn’t working. “Sorry for not saying anything,” he mumbled. “I just wanted to see what she had to say, and then when I realized what it was, I wanted to keep Patton safe, so I never brought it up when he was around, but...he’s always around...”

“Keeping this a secret could not have been easy,” Dad said with a wince. “No wonder you were all out of sorts.”

“Yeah...” Virgil said. “People acting like everything’s okay, when everything is definitely not okay...it hurts.”

Ami nodded. “That doesn’t mean your outburst wasn’t uncalled for, but I really don’t think much would be effective as discipline, because you know that you don’t yell at people and you had just reached the end of your rope.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you at all, Virgil,” Roman said. “And if you want, we can do something together to take your mind off this problem with your mom.”

“None of the distractions I’ve tried have worked,” Virgil said with a sigh.

“Well, a few more tries can’t hurt, huh?” Roman asked, nudging Virgil lightly. “Come on, we can go to my room and figure out what to do.”

Virgil wanted to go to Roman’s room, but he was also a little hesitant. He didn’t want to wind up snapping at Roman again, because what if Roman didn’t want to talk to him after that? What was he supposed to do then?

When Roman offered Virgil his hand again Virgil tried to shake the thoughts loose. “C’mon, Virgil. Live a little,” Roman said with a smile. “No harm in trying. And it beats moping the rest of the day.”

Virgil took Roman’s hand and Roman dragged him back up two flights of stairs into Roman’s room, and Virgil flopped down on the bed. Musical posters were literally everywhere; Virgil hadn’t realized exactly how many posters Roman had until now. Roman was rooting through his closet, looking for something that would presumably keep them both occupied. “Look, Princey, you don’t have to do this,” Virgil started.

“I know I don’t have to, I want to,” Roman said. “Indoors or outdoors, do you think?”

“Out...doors...?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded. “Then I think a game of badminton is in order.”

“What—? Ah!” Virgil just barely caught the racquet that Roman tossed him. “Roman!” he exclaimed indignantly.

“Honestly, I kinda prefer Princey at this point,” Roman laughed. “But what?”

“Don’t throw things around my head!” Virgil snapped.

Roman shrugged. “Sorry, I wasn’t aiming there. I should look before I throw next time.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Let’s just go out back.”

They went to the deck and then into the grass, and Roman set up the badminton net while Virgil grabbed the birdies. Then, when everything was set up, they started to play. “Why do you like badminton so much?” Virgil asked Roman.

“Well, Granddad showing me how to play was nice,” Roman said. “But it also helps to keep me from dissociating when I feel a panic attack coming on.”

“Really? How?” Virgil asked.

“Because I’m aware of running around to hit the birdie,” Roman said, “And I can feel the air in my lungs, and the adrenaline in my veins, and it gives me something here and now to focus on.”

“Huh,” Virgil said. “Do you think that could help with other anxiety?”

“Maybe,” Roman allowed. “Provided you’re not distracting yourself to shove the anxiety down and bottle it up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Roman asked.

“Okay,” Virgil agreed. “I might try that if I get anxious.”

“Grounding? You’re gonna try grounding when you get anxious?” Roman asked.

“That’s grounding?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded.

“My therapist says I should practice that, but never offered any ways to do it that helped me,” Virgil said.

“Oh. Well, now you know one more that you can try?” Roman offered.

Virgil nodded, and they lapsed into silence as the game continued. Virgil focused on the feeling of his sneakers pounding into the ground, on the air moving in and out of his lungs, on the fact that he was feeling anxious, but he was moving. He wasn’t trapped, he wasn’t in actual danger, he was just playing badminton with his brother. And it was weird to think that thought...but it was helping.

Roman lobbed the birdie high into the air and Virgil slammed it back over the net and into the ground. He laughed at scoring a point against Roman and Roman huffed, but he was smiling. “Nice shot,” he begrudgingly admitted.

“Thank you, I try,” Virgil said.

They both laughed a little and continued to play. Virgil was panting from Roman shooting all around his side of the net, causing Virgil to sprint across the yard with every hit. “Roman?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“Is there anything else you do to ground that works for you?” Virgil questioned.

“Why?” Roman asked. “Is this not helping?”

“No, it is helping,” Virgil said. “But obviously I can’t go on a run in school if I remember that letter.”

“Oh. Yeah, I can help you figure out what exactly helps for you,” Roman said. “So feeling stuff helps you?”

“I guess,” Virgil said. “I felt anxious but I focused more on physical feelings than emotional ones. Like, yeah, of course I’m anxious, my mom figured out where we lived. But I wasn’t in actual danger, I was just playing badminton with you.”

Roman hummed in thought. “Okay, yeah I can figure out a couple other techniques that I’ve been taught, whether or not they help me, because they might help you. It’s just a matter of applying them right most of the time, at the right time.”

Virgil stared at Roman. “Okay, I think I know what you said...but it’s still kinda confusing.”

“Just knowing what technique to do at which stage of your anxiety can help you,” Roman said. “Okay?”

“Okay then,” Virgil agreed. “Now, what are some things that help you?”

[headfulloffantasies]

Captain America Fitness Challenge

A short fic of how the Captain America PSA in Spiderman Homecoming might have come about

An elementary school teacher in Queens had noticed her students obsession with superheroes and in true blue fashion had arranged her teaching program around said heroes. The science section of the classroom was labelled “Iron Man’s lab” and the kids did deep breathing to calm their “inner Hulk”. Quiet reading time was Spy Time and every game they played had some sort of Avengers theme.

The school board got wind of it and lost their minds. They called in the education media director, Clark, to see if he thought this kind of thing would work throughout all levels of education.

Clark sat facing a board of grey faced old people and very kindly explained that young children loved anything with the label of their heroes slapped on it. But teenagers were cynical machines of sarcasm and they would not stand for cheesy characactures.

“You know memes? They will make memes,” he tried to explain.

Somehow the board took this and interpreted that Clark wanted to work with the genuine article.

“We want you to find an Avenger to do some PSA and training programs for high school students,” they formally said. Informally, they told Clark to jump and when he asked how high they said the moon.

“This is impossible,” Clark groaned to Kelly and Lola, his assistants.

Kelly was not listening and was entirely focused on the possibilities. “We could have Thor do weather announcements, and Iron Man and Dr. Banner could do science facts, and when we find Black Widow, she can do the discipline reprimands.”

Clark stared at Kelly

“Find… Black Widow?”

Kelly was jazzed, not sensing the irony. “Yeah man! She’s terrifying, she’d scare all the kids straight.”

Clark pinched the bridge of his nose, “Kelly, if you find Black Widow you’d better apply for SHEILD because you’re a better spy than any of them.”

Lola, his tiny camera-Woman, smacked Clark on the shoulder. “The Avengers have a PR rep, you idiot. We can go talk to her. She’ll give us someone’s number.”

The Avengers’ PR representative was a terrifying lady named Maria Hill. For a split second Clark thought she was Black Widow in disguise and then he remembered that international spies didn’t work for PR firms.

Ms. Hill folded her hands on top of her desk. “You want to do what?”

“A couple of short PSA docs with one or two of the Avengers. We’d show the video clips in schools to promote education and behaviours.” Clark repeated his spiel he’d gotten from the board of education.

“You want Captain America to tell kids not to do drugs?” Ms. Hill interpreted.

“Yeah, for starts,” Clark answered.

“Captain America is a product of drug experimentation,” she said.

Huh. Clark had to sit back and think about that one. “Well someone else can do the drug PSA then. What about Iron-,”

Ms. Hill started laughing before he finished and didn’t stop until Clark was worried she’d busted her gallbladder.

“Hulk?” He offered weakly.

Ms. Hill had to excuse herself for a full five minutes.

In the end, she set up meetings for Captain America, Iron man, Scarlet Witch, and Bruce Banner.

“Thor is off world and as agents of SHIELD, Black Widow and Hawkeye are on assignment,” Ms. Hill explained.

“Off world,” Lola mouthed at Clark. She was vibrating with excitement.

They picked a cafe to meet Captain America at.

“Do you think Cap drinks Americanos?” Lola asked. She was on her third iced coffee and was quickly approaching a new plane of existence.

Captain America walked into the cafe in a white t shirt and blue jeans. The Falcon followed him and Clark nearly lost his mind. The two heroes seemed to be in the middle of some kind of argument as they approached the table.

“He’s not in Cuba, Steve. Would you go on vacation if you were a terrorist?”

“But Hydra was definitely involved in the Cold War and Buck might have been-,” Cap cut himself off when he noticed the attention of the three nerds at the table.

Cap was painfully polite as he sat down and listened to them introduce themselves and explain their hopes for working with him and Falcon. He insisted that they call him Steve.

Kelly short circuited at this request and called him Captain Steve for the remainder of the meeting.

Lola, still jittering at a higher frequency, asked the first question. “Mr. Falcon, have you ever done drugs?”

“Excuse me?”

Clark resisted the urge to slam his head against the table.

Kelly explained. “We want at least one drug PSA, but we’ve discovered that some heroes have,um, experimented? In the past. And we don’t want to be hypocritical.”

Sam turned a wide grin on Steve, who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

“Hypocrites, Steve,” he said.

Steve narrowed his eyes. “You said other heroes. Who else is doing this?”

“Well, you’re the first we’ve talked to,” Clark explained, “But we’d like as many people involved as possible. Iron Man-,”

“No,” Steve interrupted, hands splayed in the table. “Do not talk to Tony Stark. He will corrupt all the children.”

“That’s a bit mean,” Sam said.

Steve turned on him. “Do you remember Halloween?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam nodded. “Get him far away from the kids.”

Steve met Clark’s eye. “I’ll do it, as long as you don’t contact Tony Stark or let him anywhere near this.”

Clark nodded dumbly. “Yeah, okay.”

Falcon shook his head, “I don’t need more attention. Count me out.”

In the end, only Captain America agreed to do the project. Dr. Banner turned green around the gills when they sat down with him and had to leave halfway through the meeting. Scarlet Witch didn’t return any of their calls. Hawkeye somehow got Clark’s number and rang him to ask why he wasn’t invited to do the thing.

“I am an exceptional role model,” he claimed. “I can teach the kiddos all kinds of stuff.”

“Aren’t you a spy?” Clark asked.

“Yeah, so?”

“Don’t you need to keep your identity a secret? These videos are going to be shown across America and will be posted on the internet.”

The phone was silent.

“So I might not have thought this through,” Hawkeye said at last.

Captain America was not Steve Rogers, Clark decided. Steve Rogers was a guy from Brooklyn, with a foul mouth and an attitude. Kelly had to go out back and take a breather when he heard Steve call the president “A loud mouthed capitalist, elitist, entitled waste of oxygen.”

Steve walked onto the sound stage with Black Widow in tow. Kelly nearly plotzed.

Black Widow was wearing a black t shirt with “From Russia with Love” printed on it in gold cursive. She called it irony with a smile like a shark.

“The love, or Russia?” Lola tried to clarify.

Black Widow cocked her head. “Both.”

“Are you maybe willing to do a couple of short videos for us?” Clark asked.

She smiled like a knife. “I’m just here to make sure Steve goes through with it.”

Steve whined, making it very clear that he was regretting his decision.

“Think of the children.” Black Widow said, patting his arm.

Steve whined, “The children can learn from their own mistakes.”

The suit changed Steve. He became apple pie, picket fences, and justice the second the mask went on.

The camera was rolling, the teleprompter booted up, and away he went. The star spangled man with a plan flew through the Captain America Fitness Challenge.

Clark yelled “cut” and suddenly he was Steve again.

“I hate you,” he snapped at Black Widow. “I am not an example for children.”

Lola approached Steve. “We want to do the discipline memos next.”

“Discipline?” Steve straightened. “Are they still caning kids in schools?”

Lola’s eyes went wide and Clark had to smother a laugh. “No, detention.”

Steve nodded sagely. “Caning never worked anyways. It's not much of a punishment when you’ve already lost a fight.”

Lola made a horrified squeak and hurried back to her camera.

Clark asked, “Hey, do you want to go off script for a bit? Impart some wisdom to the youngsters?”

Steve perked up. “Really?”

He leaned into the camera. “To every single one of you kids. Get your vaccinations. I don’t care what your parents say. Polio sucks, trust me.”

From behind the camera Black Widow yelled, “You’re a dirty liar, Rogers. I’ve seen your file, you never had polio.”

“No, but I had measles and mumps,” he volleyed back.

Steve addressed the camera again. “If you’re going to punch a nazi, don’t tuck your thumb into your fist. You’ll break your hand.”

“Okay, thanks,” Clark choked. “Let's go back to the teleprompter.”

“Hi, I’m Captain America. Here to talk to you about one of the most valuable traits a student or soldier can have. Patience.”

****

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