#if I ever say your art tastes like peach rings that's like one of the highest compliments I can give you

[vexedmilky]

Btw peach rings are the best candy in existence no I will not be taking criticism

[alwaysurvalentine]

Phazes - Chapter Three

Art by: @starthecozy Beta: @kayleeofcamelot 💛

Phazes Masterlist 🪩

Today has been the shittiest day Eddie’s had in a long while. First it was waking up late, then his car wouldn’t start, and now Jeff isn’t coming in. Things have been picking up since Peach’s debut. Seems the people of Chicago have gotten a taste of the different things Phazes has to offer and now they’re all competing to be there each night. It’s nice to be busier than ever, but it does mean that they’ve had more things to fix or work through to make sure their guests have a good time. 

Nancy’s been talking about getting a couple more people recruited into a security detail. She’s had to escort more rowdy customers out in the last month than she had all year. Eddie would worry if she didn’t come back in with a grin each time someone has been walked out. Even if she won’t admit it, Nancy likes it when she’s allowed to get a little rough with a problematic patron. 

With Jeff unable to come in, Eddie’s going to be stuck on stage all night. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, but Phazes has had a couple special guests stop by intermittently that could help invest back into the club. Eddie’s been trying to catch the eye of an investor in town since he started, but Peach’s debut seems to be what they were waiting for. 

The worst part has been that Thiel’s people have taken a liking to Steve. He’d been serving them when Eddie finally caught wind they were in the club and by the time he’d been able to step away they’d already left for the night. It’s been a weird game of tag between them; Eddie either waiting around on nights they never showed or he’s rushing up right after they’ve walked out the door. Saying it’s frustrating is putting it mildly because while he struggles, Steve always has something to say about them. 

“Oh yeah, they really like the different effects on the stage. I told them about Argyle and they seemed interested in meeting him. Of course I know he’s too busy during the shows, but maybe one time before we open?” 

“They really like how Nancy holds down the fort up front. Even complimented our entrance!”

“Oh, Tommy mentioned that William might be making his own stop soon, isn’t that exciting? Said he wants to check out the newest hot scene in Chicago. Could be big for us!”

Always ‘we’ or ‘us’, like Steve’s been a part of the staff for that long. It’s only been a month, it’s not like he’s actually part of the family that Eddie considers everyone at Phazes to be. If anyone were to ask Eddie, Steve’s just an outsider. Some plus one that’s on the verge of overstaying their welcome. It’s all been too good to be true. Ex jock with a heart of gold? The other shoe is going to drop eventually, and when it does Eddie won’t say he told them so, but he is going to be proud of himself. If there’s one thing he’s always been good at, it’s being a judge of character. And Steve is bad news. 

~

“Don’t worry, lover boy is in the bathroom. No need to be watching over your shoulder.” Ginger doesn’t look impressed, lips pursed at Eddie’s sheepish smile. ‘Lover boy’ has been her nickname for Steve since he charmed a customer into leaving peacefully instead of being dragged out by one Nancy Wheeler. “You've been looking a little rough around the edges there, Eddie. Sleeping okay?”

Damn Ginger and her uncanny ability to see right through him. Eddie settles in one of the stools and fiddles with one of his rings. Spins it around his finger a couple of times before sighing.

“Not really. I’m stressed about Thiel and his people. Like, William himself hasn’t come in yet. That can’t be a good sign. Plus, no one’s stuck around long enough for me to meet them. What if he thinks I’m never at the club?”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Eddie snaps to attention, back straightening at Steve’s voice. When he turns, Steve’s smirking at him with a hand on his hip. “Everyone who’s stopped by knows you’re busy. Tommy knows you’re normally on stage with the band or in the back making sure set change goes smoothly. You’re more hands on than they’re used to, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing.” 

Steve’s saying all the right things. Eddie should feel more relaxed. However, Steve seems too smug about this and Eddie can feel the agitation bubbling in his chest. He should be the one on a first name basis with the investors. He should be able to tell them himself how he runs the club. He should be the one showing them around and introducing them to the staff. Instead Steve’s been all buddy-buddy. Been keeping the drinks topped off and filling them in on everyone’s name and jobs. Steve doesn’t even know everyone that well yet! He doesn’t even know the beginning of the club and how hard it has been to get to this point. 

Before Eddie can open his mouth, Ginger places a hand on his arm. He grits his teeth instead and grimaces at Steve before standing. “You two have fun, I’m gonna go check in with Robin.”

~

Robin nearly runs Eddie over on the stairs. She trips for a moment but he catches her just in time, hands gripping onto her shoulders to keep them upright. 

“Eddie! Just the guy I was looking for!” Her tone is excited but her face is nervous. Never a good combination. Eddie nudges her back up the last step so that they’re not blocking the stairs for anyone else. Robin goes easily, stepping back and then nodding towards the Closet. At Eddie’s responding nod, she starts to walk towards it, pushing through to get to Eddie’s office. 

With it being dark outside, a lamp is the only thing casting light around the room. Robin flops back onto the couch with her eyes closed and pats the cushion next to her. A squeak from the couch and Eddie flops down next to her, warmth radiating between them. It reminds him of hanging out at the trailer when their friendship first started. Wayne’s suspicious glances and waggled eyebrows. That’d been an interesting talk, Eddie blurting out his own truth to stop the awkward dating suggestions from Wayne. 

“So, what’s the news?” He tries not to sound dejected, but his throat feels tight anyway. Once he plays a couple songs with the band he’ll feel better, but until then he’s stuck with anger in his throat. 

“Well…promise not to be too upset?” Robin’s nervousness has her fidgeting, picking at the skin around her finger nails. “Wedon’thaveenoughbackupdancersfortonight.” A breath and then, “AndArgyletwistedhisanklesohecan’tstepin.”

Eddie doesn’t have to say anything, just waits for a moment and then Robin tries again.

“We don’t have enough backup dancers for tonight.” Before Eddie can move, Robin’s hand is on his arm to stop him. “And Argyle twisted his ankle so he can’t step in.” 

“Are you serious? What else can go wrong today? I can’t step in either, Jeff’s out sick. Some kind of bug going around? What number are we missing people? Can we just have them missing?” 

The silence in response tells him everything. Eddie turns his head and Robin’s got her head tilted back, face turned towards the ceiling. She looks guilty even though it’s not really her fault. Most of the numbers they have for the night should be fine without one dancer, all of them except for, “Cell Block Tango.” Their voices overlap and Eddie groans. 

“So we need to cancel the whole number then? We have an hour before Open, think we can convince Michael to add in a filler number with Fin?” Eddie’s mind 

“Why don’t you ask Steve?” 

Chrissy’s leaning against the door frame when he looks up. In the corner of his eye, Eddie sees Robin straighten and stop picking at her fingers. One of these days they’re going to confess to each other and Eddie can finally take credit for his friends finding love. If it wasn’t for him inviting Chrissy over that night, who knows what their lives would look like now. 

“Why in the world would I ask Steve?” 

The blonde walks over and perches on the arm of the couch with a smile. “His mom used to do competitive ballroom dancing, so he knows just about all of the dances you can think of. Obviously, we all put our own spin on it, but in a pinch he might be able to help out.” 

Eddie doesn’t even consider it. Sounds like the worst idea he’s heard since someone tried convincing him chewing gum would make math easier. (Spoiler alert: it didn’t and he failed math again.) Robin sucks in an excited breath but deflates just as fast when Eddie cuts his eyes over to her. 

“No way in hell. I’ll just go talk to Michael.” 

He pointedly ignores the huff from Chrissy when leaves the room. The girls start to talk to each other but he’s on a mission now: Convince Michael and Fin to add a different number and hope that Thiel doesn’t decide to come tonight. 

~

Steve is very nervous. Has he admired the dancers from the bar? Yes, of course he has. Has he been impressed with the different footwork done in heels? Also, yes. However, admiring from afar does not equal ever wanting to be on stage. Especially when he has a little less than an hour to make sure he knows his cues. If he’d known mentioning ballroom dancing would’ve landed him here, Steve would’ve just kept that little fun fact to himself. 

Eddie hadn’t even asked Steve to step in, he just sent Chrissy to ask Ginger about pulling him away from the bar for a bit. Next thing he knew Robin was throwing a pair of suspenders and a white button down at him. 

Now he’s being pointed at when it’s his cue, so that he can take the few steps towards Chrissy. She’s already done her make up for the night, but a scarf is tied around her hair. The only part of her costume she has on is the sheer black tights and heels. Instead of the dress she’ll wear during the show, she’s wearing a black bodysuit under a white skirt. 

He’s got the beginning of the number down, sticking to the side so the other guys can take center stage. It’s less likely that someone will notice a mistake if Steve fumbles right at the beginning. The rest of his performance is very hands on though, taking center stage with Chrissy while she does her own monologue. 

Steve knows this is his chance though. If he can do this right, he just might be able to win Eddie over.

~

This has to be the worst idea Eddie has ever had. Why would he let the girls bully him into letting Steve on stage? He’s going to fuck this up. Eddie should’ve just bit the bullet and cut the song altogether. It’s not like performing it on another night would’ve ruined things. Serves him right for always wanting live music. Next time he can swing by the music store, he’ll try to find each of their songs on tape to make sure this doesn’t happen again.

The stage is backlit with orange and red lights, shadows outlining the girls stuck behind their ‘cell doors’. Fin steps forward in a full suit, a fake cigarette pulled from their mouth so they can introduce the ‘merry murderers’ for the Cell Block Tango. Luckily Steve is all the way to the side, hidden in shadows as he moves in time with the other dancers.

It’s tantalizing to watch the dancers spin their prison bars in a circle, faces tilted close enough for their lips to touch. Michael steps forward, completely in the persona of ‘Baby’. Baby’s legs are covered with black fishnets, her bra bedazzled with pink gems that outline the cups. She complains about her lover ‘popping’ his gum, ending with her leg thrown over one of the backup dancer’s shoulders. He stands up from the chair when Baby walks away, but she turns and chases him to the side of the stage. Right before they’re hidden in the wings, he takes Baby in his arms and they fight for control in a half tango. When they reach the middle of the stage again, the male dancer dips Baby one moment and in the next she’s upright and brushing him off. He saunters to the side and the next monologue starts. 

Peach walks in on the arm of her ‘lover’, head tilted up towards a different dancer. She has an almost lovesick look on her face as she describes him, turning to the audience as she reveals that her lover’s been unfaithful. Michael, Chrissy, and Finley all step out from behind the couple. Each of them has a hand on the man, rubbing at his arms and chest as Peach continues her lament. With the beat of the drum, the man falls to his front like a ‘dead’ weight. Peach steps forward and aims a kick at his prone form, causing him to roll away before jumping up and pulling her into his chest. She lunges away and then turns, resting her hands on his chest to push him a few steps back. Before she can grab onto him again, he darts away and into the shadows of the side stage.

And now, for Chrissy’s moment, along with her - Steve’s debut. She runs a quick couple of steps and, at first, Steve just appears as a set of arms behind her. He hugs her close for a moment, right hand guiding her leg up when she kicks. Eddie knows there’s just a touch of support needed to make sure she doesn’t lose her balance. Steve shifts easily when Chrissy leans so he can catch her, leg still extended. Chrissy’s hair spins with her when she turns into Steve again, who catches and dips her easily. His movements are so fluid that he looks more like Chrissy’s shadow than another dancer. There’s no stiffness in his body language. Eddie envies his nonchalance. Even with his years of dancing or being on stage, he still doesn't think he’s achieved that level of confidence. Not that he should be surprised, of course an ex-popular kid would feel comfortable in front of a crowd. 

Red lights switch to a pale blue and Chrissy jumps back into Steve, who lifts her easily. The button down he has on strains with the movement, but he still manages to spin her above his head. A few people wolf whistle from the crowd. Eddie wishes he could blame them, but seeing someone lift a girl above their head with ease is nothing to sneeze at. 

He can feel Grant’s eyes on the side of his face and Eddie knows he’s probably smirking right now. Every time he starts his lament about the pretty boy bartender the band shares this knowing look that always makes him stop in his tracks. They’ve got it in their head that he’s got a crush and being caught staring transfixed as Steve carries Chrissy off stage is not going to help things. Instead of looking directly at Grant, Eddie just shakes his head and keeps strumming. 

~

The rest of the night flies by. Eddie notices Steve go back to his post at the bar, with a few more glances from their patrons then before. If nothing else, Steve is good eye candy for the guests who are into that sort of thing. Eddie’s ride back home is full of swirling thoughts. He wishes he could just get a better read on Steve. 

Steve. There’s something about him that Eddie’s dying to put his finger on. He seems just like every other jock Eddie’s known his whole life. Fully confident in himself with an air about him that just screams silver spoon. As far as Eddie’s concerned, Steve’s just another cog in the machine that judges people deemed Other. The whole reason Phazes exists is to have a safe haven from people like that, and here he is, letting a wolf into the same den as his sheep. 

Could Eddie fire him? Absolutely. But the club does need the help and with the way everyone's been eating out of Steve’s hands, Eddie might just have a mutiny if he even tried. No, he’s got to either show everyone Steve’s true colors or he’s got to find out a way to get Steve to leave on his own. 

Eddie’s apartment is quiet when he walks in, the only sound coming from the filter sitting in his tank. A gentle glow emanates from the tank and his fish, Ozzy and Sunshine, swim up towards the front like a greeting. It’s a poor replacement for the greeting he used to get when he and Robin lived together, but it doesn’t stop a genuine smile from forming. He reaches out towards the side of the tank, but stops right before touching it, his own greeting back. Ozzy swims around his tank, tail swishing while Eddie reaches for his food. Sunshine stays close to the glass so he can watch Eddie’s every move. Eddie sprinkles in a pinch of the food and Ozzy darts towards it, excited to chase the pieces as they fall. Sunshine holds back for only a moment and joins in the frenzy. Both swim around each other when they’re done, almost like they’re playing tag.

His smile doesn’t fade even as he shuffles upstairs, his unmade bed calling to him. There’s a specific relief in getting to change out of his work clothes, kicking his pants off and tossing his shirt to the side. Usually he’d take a quick shower, but the odds of falling asleep while standing feel high so Eddie opts to flop into bed instead. He’s had this bed so long that there’s a small dip where he normally lays, so he tucks in and pulls the covers up and it takes one long blink to fall asleep.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #154

Ever had a promise ring? No, but I gave one to Sara... lmfao OOPS

Who knows your biggest secret(s)? the Internet honestly lmfao

Do you ever get messages/asks on Tumblr? Very rarely.

When was the last time you waxed anything on your body, if ever? That woulda been my eyebrows, but I haven't done that in quite a long time.

Do you like shrimp? Yes, it's the only seafood I've found that I like, but I like it quite a lot.

Are you lactose intolerant? No, that'd be pretty tragic for me, lol.

Have you ever thought a man over 40 was attractive? my Tumblr is a thirst trap for 50-60 y/o men litcherally get out

Have you ever been told your aspirations are unrealistic? Not really, people tend to encourage me, but I've been told that yes, hoping to one day support yourself with just your nature photography will be insanely hard, but I'm trying my best.

Who was the last person you sat beside at a restaurant? My mother; Girt sat across from me.

Who is popular in your country? (Singers, actors etc.) lol I barely even know who's "big" anymore, I pay zero attention but uh, I know Pedro Pascal is a newer big focus of love, the whole country seems likely to defend Keanu Reeves with their lives basically, is Lana Del Ray still a thing?, Billie Eilish, Post Malone, Jason Momoa, Tom Hiddleston, uh... I dunno.

What did you watch today? Mostly let's plays but also some clips from the Rammstein concert in Lithuania today.

Peaches or plums? As a kid I woulda said plums, but I haven't had one in years, the texture might bother me now. I like sliced peaches, though.

Do you understand art? I think I've got a pretty decent idea. I obviously don't understand ALL of it, but I'd say I'm pretty open-minded with seeing and often identifying purpose in most art.

Do/did your parents buy you a lot for Christmas? I felt like it was a lot, especially when my parents had three kids similar in age to get stuff for, and apparently they tried to get the same amount of gifts for us, obviously varying a bit with the price of gifts. I know they struggled, especially once Dad left, and my mom NEVER thinks she gets enough, but she does, nowadays especially for Ashley's kids. Ash has told her basically every year that she gets way more than what's necessary, but my mom doesn't care lol.

Out of all the cultures in the world, what culture do you find the most interesting? Probably Native American, but I'm not SUPER familiar with most cultures, to be real.

Do you like ramen noodles? Literally only the Yakisoba spicy chicken one. At least, that's the only one I've found I enjoy, and often I don't have the taste for it anyway.

Who/what was that last thing that you slept with? Technically my cat and Mom's dog for a little bit, but the last person was Girt.

Do your parents do things that "embarrass" you? My dad has ZERO filter and knows how to be rude, and he also has zero common sense (I got it from him lol) so is difficult to get to understand things, and especially in public that can lead to embarrassing interactions.

What IM service do you use the most? Discord.

Who was the last person to IM you? Girt.

When you eat take-out, do you just eat it out of the containers provided? Generally, yes, but one specific case where I never do is when getting fried rice from Chinese places; I pour it into a bowl.

Would you need to sleep with someone before considering marrying them? No, sex just isn't important enough to me for that. If they wanna wait, that's fine.

Do you carry condoms? No.

How organized are the files on your computer? They're pretty sorted. I like putting stuff in appropriate folders.

Did you have a childhood hero? Were they real or fictional? Steve Irwin, of course. Real person obviously, with a heart that was so impossibly good and vibrant. So full of basically neon life to the very end.

Would you consider dating a psychiatrist or psychologist? I mean sure, but we'd absolutely have to set boundaries so they don't become my therapist; I don't think that's good for relationships.

For each person you’ve kissed, describe your feelings in one word: Nostalgic, confused, deep dislike, and adoration.

How do you react when you trip or stumble? In the moment I freak out big time, because me falling, with my weight, is considerably dangerous, even for an adult. Bruises are a guarantee. And then with my legs, I struggle very much with getting up anyway, so.

Are you good at the game Twister? As a kid I was, there's no way in hell I could do it now, I have to keep strengthening my legs.

Do your friends trust you around their bfs/gfs? This isn't really applicable to my life, I don't have real life friends I hang out with almost ever and I don't know their partners.

Would you rather make the first move, or your crush? The person I like, for sure.

If you have a camera, when do you use flash? In reality, I basically never do because it's just not applicable to what I'm shooting, but I have a mounted fill flash, which is generally best used when a foreground is underexposed.

What would you do if you found a gun in your best friend’s bedroom? I'd be extremely fucking freaked out; first I'd worry that he wasn't okay and wasn't telling me so, but I also don't feel that his mother should be in a house with a firearm because of her own mental health history.

What do you call your grandparents? I feel like both I've always just referred to them as "Grammy" and "Grampa."

What would be a cool earring design? Oh, there's so many! They tend to be ones that are heavier and dangle though, which I can't wear and it sucks. :( I semi-recently saw a pair that were a bunch of grapes, called to mind decorative fruits you put on a table, and I absolutely loved it. I'm also super big on those cute ones of animals hanging through your ear, I've seen lots of those, they tend to be cute and derpy.

Besides nightmares, what is the scariest thing about sleeping? I've never experienced it and am terrified of eventually doing so: sleep paralysis. That sounds HORRIFYING.

Do you look better with red lipstick or black lipstick? Black.

Ever had a terrible breakup? lol new to reading these?

Favorite bands? Ozzy Osbourne & Rammstein are tied in different ways for #1, but I'm also big on Marilyn Manson, Otep, Korn, In This Moment, Motionless In White, Metallica, Powerwolf, A Day to Remember, Mother Mother, and Cradle of Filth.

Favorite quote? I don't know if it's my favorite EVER, but since finishing watching a let's play of God of War: Ragnarök, I've been absolutely in love with a quote by the character Faye: "Grief is the culmination of love, and yet we love despite the inevitable. [...] To grieve deeply is to have loved fully." It hit me so fucking hard and I feel it's really applicable to various parts of my life. It makes me feel less weak grieving the loss (not always death) of someone.

Wearing any bracelets? No, I barely ever put bracelets on because I hate how they feel.

Does your phone take pictures? Awful quality ones, ugh the primary reason I want a better phone is literally the camera lol, mine is GARBAGE.

Who is your favorite neighbor? I don't really have a favorite, but I have at least MET the guy to our right; he's an old African American man that very often has his granddaughter with her, and she is a GEM. Mom loves them a whole lot, and the time I've met them (he helped my mom carry heavy stuff from outside into the house), each were so friendly and just good. They recently got a dog too, and while she barks A LOT, she's a sweet girl. The lady on our left Mom says is very nice, but I personally haven't spoken with her.

Have you ever gotten a detention? Yes, only once, and it was only because I had too many morning tardies to class, my own fault entirely. I was HORRIBLE waking up in the morning, gave my mom trouble ALL the way through high school, and it made us only a few minutes late sometimes.

Does your door have a deadbolt on it? Yes.

Have you had any soda today? I have not, I finally cracked yesterday after a pretty good period of going without it, so it's gonna be a while til I let myself do that again. I'm not willing to TOTALLY take soda away from me with just how much I enjoy it, but I'm definitely making an effort to tone it down even more.

What is your favorite scary movie? The Blair Witch Project. Also quite fond of The Crazies, and I have a soft spot for the first Silent Hill film just because of what it is and at least it's not a pure disgrace to the franchise like its sequel, lol.

What’s the most historic thing that has happened in your lifetime? Covid, for sure.

What happens in your country regularly that people in most countries would find strange or bizarre? School shootings. (: That shit is not supposed to be normal. You aren't meant to be UNsurprised when you hear about another one.

What’s your funniest story involving a car? lol so on a date I went on with Tyler, literally our first one, he got a flat tire; someone at a stop light pointed it out to him, aaaand adventure ensued. I feel bad for how mortified he was, he obviously was worried about what I thought, when I really felt nothing negative at all, like shit happens. He got the car to a car repair place that was luckily right down the road, but we had trouble communicating; the staff didn't speak English well, but we got the message across, and then I remember we had to cross the intersection on foot to get to a store across the street for some reason, then back. We went to an Italian place afterwards as planned, where we got calzones, which I then learned I don't even like because of the kind of cheese lmfao. I genuinely don't consider it a bad date, though; sure, didn't go the way we planned, but hey, I sure remember it.

If you built a themed hotel, what would the theme be and what would the rooms look like? I wouldn't do this, but hypothetically, definitely nature-y based! I'd like to make it have a forest vibe.

Do you think that humans will ever be able to live together in harmony? Lol no, it'd be fucking fantastic and literally the best thing a human could ever wish for, but it's not gonna happen. There are too many people that would ALL have to agree to that in their behaviors.

What’s the most amazing true story you’ve heard? Maybe I favor this one because I'm such a fucking sucker for romantic shit lol, but before Jason and his brother were born, their father apparently cheated on their mom, and she left to go back home to New York, but their dad chased her up there (getting to NY from our area takes at least 10 hours by car) to talk it out, and then they stayed together as an extremely loving, loyal, happy couple that I looked up to a lot as being proper partners. They were still together when Jason's mother died of diabetes complications.

What’s the grossest food that you just can’t get enough of? Uh, I dunno; I'm assuming by this you mean unhealthy because I'm obviously not eating food that I find gross-tasting, so let's see... burgers, I guess; I don't have them excessively or anything, BUT I'm almost always up for one, and I also don't like lettuce or tomatoes on my burgers, so... they're not exactly an icon of a healthy meal, lol.

What brand are you most loyal to? I can't think of any brand I feel extreme loyalty to. Like I support Cloak a lot with just who owns it and how tied they are to charities, but even if I HAD my own income I'm not rushing to buy something from any drop they have, I only have two shirts.

Where are you not welcome anymore? Well, the first one I can think of is Sara's house, not that you'd see me trying to go there. It's just the most obvious one to me.

What’s a common experience for many people that you’ve never experienced? By this point in my life, bills. Taxes.

What fashion trend makes you cringe or laugh every time you see it? Crocs. They're just hideous to me.

What are the initials of the last person you made out with? DM.

If you found out you were pregnant, who would be the first person to know? hi my uterus is bleeding

How old were you when you had your first kiss? Very early into 16.

Is it awkward when you run into your ex? That doesn't happen, but running into Jason would be uncomfortable, but only because I'd feel bad being in the same proximity as him, like I know he doesn't want to have anything to do with me, so I'd avoid him if I could.

Were you intoxicated the last time you threw up? No.

Who is your most recent ex? Sara.

Has the person you last kissed taken their shirt off in front of you? Yeah.

Have you ever broken anything because you were mad? No, people who get physical when angry absolutely terrify me.

Do you “blow kisses” often? Not really, but sometimes with my sister's kids.

Do you need to “break up” with a friend? No friend I currently have, no.

[jarofstyles]

Crush

A/N: this one.... biiiitch.... giving you all a little college!harry, he’s so cute 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy hehe 😈 - n + d

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut. FILTH. 

word count: 9.7k

Harry felt a bit creepy. 

It wasn’t as if it was on purpose! No... but she was at all of the places he went. At first he had thought it was a coincidence, but as he developed a routine for his classes, he found that they were often around each other for similar reasons. And usually? He would try and go up, introduce himself, and make a friend. The problem was... she was pretty. 

Not like normal pretty. Pretty as in, holy fuck you make me so nervous and perhaps I’ll word vomit, pretty. He was shit at making the first move. She was in his Monday and Friday classes and sat not far from him, he noticed. And they always ended up at the Coffee Bean on Tuesday and Thursdays, sitting not too far from one another again. She got tea with a few cookies, and he got a black coffee and an orange scone. They’d work on their coursework and Harry would wait for her to leave and see her make it to her car before he would leave, not wanting to make it seem like he was following her. He’s found out her name through friends stopping in to see her. It was Y/N. Gorgeous, just like her.

Funny enough, Harry wasn’t the only one who had a bit of a crush. Y/N realized in the second week of classes that Harry was in fact one of the most intimidatingly cool and attractive men she’d ever seen. College boys weren’t supposed to look like that, but he was all soft in his sweaters and baggy pants. She wasn’t sure how he pulled it off so well, but she could admit she was jealous. 

Seeing him at the Coffee bean was a relief because well, he walked in after her every time. She assumed it was because he had a class that ended later or something, but it didn’t go unnoticed that  he was there. Usually it wasn’t too busy or loud so she could glance at him from the corner of her eye as they sat at one of the big tables. She felt like it would be too weird to talk to him, he seemed so... quiet. She’d never heard him speak, hell, she’d only ever locked eyes with him for milliseconds. Y/N wished she could be one of those girls that could effortlessly flirt, ask for a pencil or something, but she knew she’d freeze up and forget her rehearsed line. 

Today however, when Y/N arrived, Harry was already there at his usual spot. Okay, Y/N... act natural. She thought to herself, going to order her usual before walking to boldly take a seat across from him. It would have worked out fine if her tote bag didn’t accidentally catch the corner of one of his books, sending things flying. 

“Shit— sorry, I—” Y/N swore, setting her bag on the table before bending down to get the book and a few papers and a pen. Real smooth.

Harry was slightly startled when his shit went flying, but when he saw who had knocked it over, his heart picked up. Oh, shit. 

“Oh— it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Harry’s voice was a bit gruff from not using it much today, pushing his chair back and bending down to grab the stuff with her. “S’my fault for putting it so close to the edge. I used to do that at home and my cat would knock it all off.” 

Great. Already rambling. 

Y/N didn’t register it at first, but he was british? Fuck. If she wasn’t already on her knees she would dropped down anyway, biting her lip to stop any noises that could have escaped. She giggled when he said his cat used to knock things over, “mine too.” She mumbled and went to stand up, feeling a tug at her arm. 

“Ah, shit.” Harry had caught his ring in her sweater, pulling one of the threads. “Damn, I’m so sorry.” He blushed slightly, knowing how annoying it was to have a pulled thread. His collection of sweaters was immense, thanks to his nan— and he felt terrible. Damn his chunky things. “They always get caught in mine too but I wear them anyways. I can replace the sweater, if you need.” Damn it. He was trying to come off as smooth... not so nervous. But he was. She was so pretty and she was up close, she smelled like peaches and vanilla and a bit of sweet mint and her hands were so soft.

“Oh no, It’s fine! it’s old anyway— I can just cut it off or tuck it in or something.” Honestly, Y/N would figure it out. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad, it was an accident after all. She let him untangle it, holding her hand still though it seemed like he needed some help. “Smaller fingers...” She mumbled, using her nails to get the thread gently off of the ring. “‘s a nice ring.” Y/N complimented, finally meeting his eyes and feeling the breath leave her lungs at the close proximity. Her lips parted naturally, scanning his face for any signs of discomfort.

She was beautiful Harry though he may get sick because wow. Wow. He had imagined holding her hand and kissing her but this exact moment he hadn’t a clue on what to do. So he improvised. 

“Are you in the 8 am psych class on Mondays?” He tilted his head. “I know I’ve seen you before.” Oh, he had seen her a lot. Especially in his dreams, day and night. It had been a bit intoxicating, really. At her nod, his grin came on his face. “Sick. S’that what you’re gonna study for?” He didn’t bring up the other class because... it would be embarrassing if she hadn’t noticed him before and he knew all too much. He needed a refill of his coffee though so he grabbed his cup, gently taking her things and placing them on the table next to his. “At least let me buy your stuff though. I feel awful about your sweater.”

“I’m actually just waiting on them to finish making mine, I was on my way to secure a spot but—” Y/N blushed, realizing the mess she had made. “Could you get it for me while you’re up there? It’s for Y/N. I can sit here and watch your stuff.” She felt like that was a subtle way for her to tell him her name. 

This was the most she had ever spoken to him and it had been about a month or so that she’d been eyeing him up. She knew he was in her English literature class as well, but psych was her major. Y/N wondered if maybe he too was a psych major, maybe that’s why they sort of had the same schedule? Regardless, she felt a bit nervous making conversation so she spent the time he was away coming up with what she was going to ask him and how she was going to keep the ball rolling. Hopefully she didn’t interrupt his studying, if anything she’d leave him alone.

“Y/N?” He tested it on his tongue out loud for the first time. It tasted good. “Yeah. M’Harry. I’ll be back.” He nodded, going towards the front. His heart going a mile a minute, he couldn’t believe how quickly his luck had changed. He ordered an extra cake pop today, for her. she had said it didn’t matter but to him, it did. Eventually he hoped he could buy her a replacement. Or... maybe she could wear his around. Wow. That would stroke his ego and his fragile heart to the core. He could already see her on his lavender fishermen’s sweater, in front of his fireplace back at home. She would be so cute. The voice calling her name snapped him out of the fantasy, Harry grabbing it and then his own shortly after before returning to the table. “Here. I got the last cake pop for you. Don’t tell anyone I’m the offender.”

“Ooo you’re a dead man if they find out.” Y/N said, looking around before gently taking it from him. “Thank you... that’s sweet.” She blushed, taking a bite of it before taking a sip of her chai latte. Now that she had stuff to fiddle around with she could take a breather and not have to worry about filling space. “But um.. did interrupt something? Don’t want to distract you...” Y/N nodded over to his laptop, secretly hoping that he wasn’t up to much so that she could chat to him. She just wanted to know the basics, literally anything would satisfy her craving. Harry was quite literally her wet dream, she’d been looking all around campus for someone like him to come around. “I uh... I think I’m also in your English lit class? I feel like I see you around often.” Y/N spoke, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “What’s your major?” She felt like this conversation was light, something that would eventually lead into other things like... if he was single and looking for a girlfriend.

“Oh, you’re not bugging me. I’ve kind of been staring at the screen and zoning out if m’honest.” Harry chuckled, embarrassed a little to admit it. But everyone could relate to that, right? “And yeah... actually I think so.” He smiled lightly before taking a sip of his drink. Victory! She had noticed him too. He wasn’t the lonely creep who stared at the first who had no idea who he was. She knew who he was, kind of. He gently drew his sweater over his hands like little paws before going to her question. “English. I want to write and stuff, edit maybe. My dad has a publishing company so, I’m lucky I like a bit of the family business.” He tried to joke, looking at her. God. It was unnerving how beautiful and also, how fucking comfortable she was to be around. What a contrast. “And you? What major?” He took a nibble of his scone, not wanting to make a mess.

English? He’s a writer? Goodness. She was going to lose it. 

“That’s cool, any specific genre you like to write?” Y/N asked curiously because well, it would actually tell her a lot about him and the kind of person he was. “I picture some mystery or possibly poetry, could go either way.” She said and squinted her eyes as she looked at him, pretending to size him up. “I can’t say I’m all that interesting, a psych major. Just like every other artsy person who doesn’t exactly want to commit to an art degree.” Y/N chuckled, “still deciding between criminal justice or counseling but... either way I’d be happy to get to pick someone’s brain. She did have the habit of analyzing people but only so she could understand them better. Y/N knew that all people wanted at the core was to be understood and loved for who they are, for the most part. Harry seemed reserved, calm and relaxed, secure in himself that’s for sure. It was extremely attractive.

“Oh? That’s really cool though.” Harry was genuinely interested in what she had to say either way. The major didn’t matter in his interest in her but it gave him information and something to talk about. If she was marketing or math he would be just as interested. “Criminal seems particularly interesting. Like that criminal minds show then? You’ll learn how they work and all of that?” He didn’t really know what it meant or why she had chosen it. “But close. I write romance novels.” He blushed fully. “Don’t judge me for it. But s’easy for me and I’m good at it, or so I’ve been told. I’ve been writing for a while.” He felt himself loosen up as they talked. Even if she intimidated him, she was really nice and sweet. “Poetry too, lots of it. But romance is my main thing, I’d like to do novels and that sort of stuff.” He could see she didn’t think it was lame, rather interesting. Which was a major relief. He wanted to impress her, so so badly.

“Sorta, yeah. Like... being able to predict a criminal's next move, psychologically.” Y/N explained and shrugged, “feel like it’s really fun and interesting but terrifying all at once. Dunno if I could actually interview a criminal without feeling like it was going to cry.” She let out a laugh, knowing she was quite soft. Her face lit up when he said he wrote romance novels. Wow. Well, as if he wasn’t a character right out of a romcom himself! She felt like that’s what this was. A romcom. Bumping into him at a coffee shop like a scene straight from one. “Really?! So you’re a proper romantic then? Buy the last cake pop for every girl, hmm?” She gave him a bashful smile. The very last thing she was doing was judge, she was more so thinking about their wedding. Yep. Already. Daydreaming because she swore she’d hit the jackpot. Wasn’t even sure if he liked her yet, but she was hopeful. After all, she’d turned on her charm.

“I guess I am.” Harry smirked to himself slightly at the good reception. Damn. He had been so worried and hesitant- he should have just talked to her. She wasn’t... that scary. Only a little bit. 

He let her talk a bit more about her degree and Harry went on to speak about his favorite authors, and then the conversation shifted towards their classes and how he had been struggling slightly in psych— which led to her offering to help. Harry was shocked because honestly he hadn’t expected it from her, but he was pleased. He was happy to have an excuse to hang out with her more. See more of her and be able to teach himself to relax properly around her. He felt like a damn wind up toy, giddy and excited. 

“That would be so helpful, if you could. And if you don’t mind.” He stressed. “I have a place off campus, if you’d want to go there? I’ll buy you some pizza or something for your help.” He was a giver and if it meant getting a $20 pizza for her because he wanted good quality, then he would!

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Y/N was practically jumping up and down with joy in her mind, this was a turn of events. She went from secretly crushing on him to being invited over his house in only a few hours. “I can never say no to pizza, but it’s really no problem. They say if you can teach it to someone else then you truly understand it so it’ll be a good test for me. Y/N also knew that they wouldn’t just study. Come on. It was a Friday night and study was practically code for hook up, especially considering he had invited her to his place and not the library. She had to prepare, had to make sure she looked cute and everything. She’d shower before hand too, the whole nine. “I can be there around 6?” Y/N suggested, checking her calendar app even though she already knew when she could come. She had to at least look like she wasn’t jumping at the idea.

“That’s cool. Uh— here, if you want I can put my number in your phone and whenever you want I can text you the address?” Oh, fuck. How, how the tables have turned. He had gone from wistfully staring at her every day to having a scheduled study session with her, the girl he’d been practically having wet dreams about. Having a full conversation and then her having his number! He was giddy and playing with the sleeves of his sweater as a result of the excited nerves. “Do you have any allergies? I do have a kitten at home.” He wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have to put Marie away. He loved his baby but he wanted to try something and see if she would be cool with him in a private setting. It would be less hard to talk about deeper things without people around. He took her phone from her and typed in his number, adding his name with a little  📚 after it. That wasn’t too much, right?

“Aw you do! I have one too, well... he thinks he’s a big boy.” Y/N shook her head at the thought of her sweet little Milo. Despite not doing anything she planned to do at the coffee shop, it still felt like a productive day in her eyes. Finally getting to chat with Harry felt like a breath of fresh air and he wasn’t all that scary now that she got to chatting with him. She took her phone back and smiled at the cute little emoji, sending him a text to let him know it was her before hesitantly getting up. “Alright well, I gotta get back to my kitten... but, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N smiled, watching him stand up as well. The two of them walked out of the coffee shop and to their cars, Y/N being bold enough to give him a hug before opening her car door. “Night!” She was surprised with herself. Y/N was proud, completely over the moon and honestly she wasn’t sure how she was going to sleep tonight.

-----

Harry laid out on the bed that night with Marie on his chest. He had told her all about how the pretty Y/N had met him and that she would be coming over. The pretty cat was a long haired white kitty, and she purred along with Harry as he spoke. She liked hearing Harry be happy. It made him want to squeak when he heard his phone buzz and a little text from her popped up— he saved her as ‘Y/N 🌼’ because he felt like it fit. Part of him wanted to put a heart but he would be mortified if she saw and thought it was weird. She wore a yellow flower shirt one day so he figured that’s what he could excuse it as. 

‘Hey, happy to hear from you! :) I hope your kitty is doing well. I meant to ask, you aren’t vegetarian are you?’

Y/N smiled at his text and attached a photo of her gray kitten laying across the top of her head while she laid down. 

‘Yes, he’s quite cozy.’

‘I am actually! But I’m not too fussy.’ 

She couldn’t help it, she loved animals and she couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore. Occasionally, she would indulge in a chicken nugget or seafood, but for the most part she didn’t feel like she had to. 

‘I’m going to get some sleep though, Good night Harry 💓’

That wasn’t too much was it? It was just a heart! She sent them to everyone. Y/N stayed up for a good ten minutes just digesting the day. Tomorrow would be even better, she had a feeling.

——

Harry was... well, he wasn’t sure how to describe the emotion. When Niall inevitably quizzed him on why he was acting strange, the best he had come up with was a mix of nerves and giddiness, also terror and extreme happiness. He was going to hang out with the girl he had been silently crushing on— and they had been texting quite frequently in the short time they had each other’s numbers. Was this going to be a regular thing? Was it going to blossom into more? He knew that he had wasted time before, not talking to her. She wasn’t scary! No... she was so sweet and kind and beautiful and everything she said made him a literal heart eye emoji. She had taken to sending him random photos, even so quickly in and it felt comfortable. He had even sent her a shot of Marie on the counter this morning, on top of his school notes. It was odd. The excitement he felt when he heard the bing from his phone of the vibration in his pocket... it was incredible. He liked this feeling. Damn it. This was such a new thing. He wanted to do more. 

He saw her in class, watching as she crept in a bit after the last call should be with a sheepish smile on her face. He waved to her silently and watched her climb up, his heart beating quicker when she chose a seat closer to his than before. She wanted to sit near him? He clutched the rainbow patchwork sweater by the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs, nerves and excitement swirling in his tummy.

If class wasn’t already on, Y/N knew she would have tried to spark up some conversation with Harry, but for now all she could manage was passing him a note. 

‘I like your cardigan :)’

It was really cute. Most of Harry’s wardrobe was and in her dream world she already stole a few to wear. English literature wasn’t exactly the most exciting class, but Harry seemed invested. Y/N enjoyed watching him focus and take notes while she mostly doodled some random flowers and bears in her notebook. Her mind was thinking about what she was going to wear to his house and how she definitely needed a shower before and that she had to put on the lotion that matched her perfume. Was she overthinking this? Maybe. Of course it was just a study date, but you could never be too sure where things could go. And if they did— she wanted to be ready.

He knew that he needed to contain himself but his smile made it hard. She liked his cardigan. The random compliment had him feeling mushy and happy and there was definitely a blush on his cheeks as he clicked his pen and wrote back to her. 

‘Thanks :) my nan knitted it for me. I like your little head band.’ 

He passed it back before opening his notebook back up. Her stare could be felt and he wanted to smirk a little at it because, well, who wouldn’t? She was so great, and he wanted to experience more of her but he was trying to not rush shit. He was a romance writer after all. All of it felt so in tune with his own wants and he had a hard time believing it was real. Sweet little Y/N wanted to hang out with him and she complimented his cardigan!

‘Awe!! That’s cute and thank youuuu 🥰’ 

She drew him a little smiley face with hearts around it, felt like it was very on brand for her and her emotive texting. Y/N felt all giddy because she had made a new friend but she was really hoping they wouldn’t just be friends. 

Y/N knew she was hard to read because she was generally nice to everyone and honestly, Harry seemed to be the same way. She could only assume he liked her because he asked her to hang out so quickly. And he’d bought her a cake pop and was planning on buying pizza tonight. Was it a date then? Gosh, she needed to stop reading into it. Her leg kept bouncing up and down, mind trying to refocus and thankfully, their professor was discussing something she too had noticed in her reading. She still managed to steal quick glances at Harry for the rest of the class, giving him shy little smiles. It wasn’t till class ended that she ended up speaking to him, but even that was quick. She needed to get home and get ready.

Harry had gotten a quick hi, and a ‘see you tonight!’ With her hand brushing his arm before she skipped off to.. wherever she went. And that had him nearly sprinting home. Cleaning top to bottom, vacuum, scrub, vacuum again. Changed his sheets— why, he wasn’t sure— put his laundry in the basket, filled up Marie’s food and water, fluffed the pillows, cleaned the windows and coffee table... he did it all. Even cleaned out the fridge! Like she would care? Harry didn’t know. All he did know was that he was finally showered and smelled nice, hair fixed and the pumpkin patch candle was lit! The tv was on low because he was nervous and needed some filler noise to keep himself from overthinking.

Y/N was doing the same, not cleaning her apartment but cleaning herself. She stripped out of her clothes when she got home and immediately got into the shower, taking one of those full maintenance ones for good measure. Once she was positive she was squeaky clean and smelled nice, she jumped out to take the next steps. God, she really wanted to impress him. He’d been her crush for a while and she needed this. She wanted to look like she didn’t put in my effort when she did so she decided to put on some light makeup and chose an outfit that was more laid back. Usually, she was seen wearing sweaters and jeans, nothing too fancy, so that’s exactly what she settled on. Y/N wanted to look warm and inviting. 

Milo mewed beneath her feet as she collected all her study supplies, rubbing against her ankles in need of attention. “I’m sorry bubs, I know I didn’t get to spend lots of time with you today but don’t be too mad.” Y/N pouted, picking him up and giving him a cuddle for a few minutes. She held him up to her chest as she finished up, deciding she needed to leave now.

‘Leaving now, be there in 20 ✨’

She sent, hopping into her car with nerves bubbling up in her stomach. God, she really hoped tonight went well.

——

When Harry heard the knock at the door he shot up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants before forcing himself to be slow, walking to the door. And when he opened it, it really did feel like being hit in the gut. Seeing someone so beautiful, so up close? It got to him. He had to admit that. Y/N has this natural beauty that he drooled over. That felt like a hit. Every time he saw her he swore she got more beautiful. 

“Hi.” He spoke with a smile, opening the door up for her. “Come inside. Marie is wandering around so I have to close the door. A little escape artist, she is.” He joked, letting her scurry in and close the door behind her.

“Hey! Oop— okay!” Y/N giggled and stepped past him into his apartment. It was very cute and very tidy. Y/N felt a little flutter in her belly, it was freshly cleaned. She stepped out of her shoes before further examining the decor. The style was something she very much expected for Harry, it was cozy and artsy. Lots of earth tones and that sweet autumn smell coming from the candle made her feel that much more excited. “It’s so nice in here! I love the pillows.” Y/N complimented, liking how some were fluffy and some had funky patterns on them. It was then that she heard a meow from below, Marie sniffing at her sock covered toes. “Oh hi there... sorry if you can smell Milo on me, gave me lots of snuggles before I left.” Y/N cooed down to the kitten, dropping down so she was closer to the ground and extended her hand for her to sniff and get used to. 

Y/N realized this was very real now, especially because he had gone out of his way to make his place look nice. Most guys wouldn’t care, but maybe Harry did this for everyone. When she stood back up and turned to face him, she got a whiff of him and noticed his semi damp hair. He showered too. Oh—

Harry smiled at her and Marie, happy his kitten seemed to like her. Usually she would sniff his friends and run off but she began to weave over her legs and beg for pets. He was in awe. Christ. She had him by the balls already. 

“Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got diet soda... apple juice, lots of teas. And water.” He hummed, going into the kitchen with her behind him. It was an open concept though, the kitchen the first thing near the door and it opened into a large living area, the hall down going to the master bedroom. It was simple but perfect for him in college. He gave her a moment to think it over as he looked at her. So cozy and... cuddly. He wanted to slide his hands under her sweater and feel her warm skin and nuzzle into the crook of her neck, let her fingers play through his hair.

“Apple juice sounds good.” Y/N smiled, having picked up Marie at this point to carry her into the kitchen with them. She had a feeling she’d get along just great with Milo if they ever got to meet. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Y/N cooed at the kitten, seeing her comfortably settled against her. “Does your Daddy spoil you with snuggles too?” She asked toying with her little paw before looking up at Harry with a smile. He had fumbled a bit with the lid of the juice at her words which made her giggle, “How are you? How was your day today?” Y/N was genuinely curious, deciding to make some small talk before actually sitting down. In her head she could already imagine the two of them hanging out here constantly, tangled up in one another, kissing and laughing and doing all the cute things that Harry likely wrote about in his stories.

“I’m— im good.” Harry’s mouth was dry. He knew that she hadn’t meant anything by it, but he heard her say ‘daddy’ in reference to him, and his stupid cock had jumped, tummy felt hot. Damn it. He wished he wasn’t so deprived but... she had been at the forefront of his mind. “It was a good day. I was happy to talk to you. You’re fun to talk to.” He meant it too. She was so interesting and funny and he was completely whipped and okay with it. Damn. He wished he had maybe a bit more restraint with his imagination but he didn’t. Not at all. “I have a harder time meeting people... i can be a little shy sometimes. I’m in my own head a lot you know? I have my core group of friends but... it’s hard to get to know people. I want to know them.” Her. That translates to her.

“Yeah?” Y/N felt her heart jump. He was happy to speak with her even just a little bit? He wanted to talk to her and get to know her? It wasn’t just a one sided thing. They were both making an effort in their own way and she was thinking someone had to break the tension. “I’m happy you think so.” Y/N blushed, “I um... I also like talking to you.” She had her little friend group as well but she never thought she’d actually end up being friends with Harry. Listening to him explain how reserved he was definitely made her feel special though. He chose to open up to her, she was special enough for that and that made her cheeks grow warm once again. “I’ll tell you just about anything you want to know.” Y/N smiled, hesitantly placing Marie down before taking a few steps closer to him to get her glass of apple juice.

“Ooooh, a little daunting. Anything? Your social security number?” Harry was joking. Trying to clear the air and make her relax because she was a bit shy too and he wanted her to be comfortable here. This place should be a good spot for her. He motioned for her to come sit on the couch with him, Marie trailing after Y/N. Little traitor had a new favorite already but... he couldn’t say he could blame her. “I dunno... it’s hard sometimes, in this age to make genuine friendships. Feels like everyone’s already got their friend groups and you don’t want to infringe upon them yeah? And... I write a lot. I’m not a partier. Not to sound cliche but again.... I’m a writer.” He chuckled.

“I said just about!” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head to herself at his joke. She felt like she was an open book, she was pretty open with the things she liked and generally she aimed to spread positivity and love where she could. Her hobbies included lots of things, music, knitting, reading, gardening. That kind of stuff. “But yeah, I get that... I’ve been pretty content with my group of friends, though I think most people are open to making new ones. At least I am... I am a bit shy though.” Y/N took a sip of her apple juice before setting it down on the coffee table again. “Yeah, you said. Romance novels.” She smiled and leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable. “What sorts of romance novels?” What? Could you blame her for wanting to know what sort of content was in them? Maybe it could give her some insight on what he wanted.

“Oooooh. Hard hitting stuff.” Harry huffed out playfully. “I’m... it’s a variety, I think. I’ve done supernatural, classic tropes, historical romance was very fun. I am partial to enemies to lovers or forbidden romances though. They’re the most fun to write.” Y/N genuinely looked like she cared so he continued. “I’ve been trying out different stuff but....” he blushed again. “I’m... looking at erotica right now.” It wasn’t something he usually would blurt out but hey, she seemed trustworthy. Plus she didn’t seem like she would judge either. It was a new favorite of his. The rawness of it and writing sex scenes... it was amazing. Reading it, writing it, he thought he could do some on the side and sell it under a pen name. It would be a fun thing to try.

Erotica. This man sat down and wrote detailed sex scenes, likely kinky, for fun? Thankfully she didn’t have any juice in her mouth because it surely would have been spat out. 

“H-how are you finding it?” She asked, reaching for her apple juice because she felt like she couldn’t sit still now. How else was she supposed to go about things when all she could think about was sex. Sex with him specifically. Y/N wasn’t blind, she knew that Harry was very attractive and very much gifted with beautiful hands. She could only assume he would have a wonderful cock as well. She knew there was no way someone so quite couldn’t have the filthiest of minds, she knew hers was. Her fantasies were where she roamed free.  

“I mean... I do like it a lot, actually. I hope that doesn’t come across as creepy or pervy but I like to be able to write something like that. It’s freeing, in a sense.” Harry couldn’t really properly describe why but, he was a kinky dude. You’d never think it. He was soft and wore sweaters a lot and drank tea at home from a kitty mug but he was.... a kinky fucker. And he loved sex. There was just something about it. He wanted to try more and more of it but he had a tendency to get attached to his partners, even hook ups... so he had put that on a hault. 

“I’d like to read some...” Y/N felt like at some point, she’d want to read his writing. If he felt comfortable now she didn’t mind. It was just writing, wasn’t it? 

“You want to?” She looked at him with bright eyes and her a fast nod so Harry decided to say, fuck it. If they were going to work as friends... or lovers, which is what Harry really wanted... she would need to accept this side. He grabbed his laptop and boosted it on, letting himself grab the latest completed scene. “Here. You can read this, i'll order the pizza.” There were obvious nerves in his belly from letting her read filthy smut from his computer but Y/N... she was different. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but she was.

They were meant to be studying. 

That was long forgotten though as Y/N nodded and got comfortable on the couch with his laptop sat in her lap. It felt a bit taboo, but she figured she could separate the writer from the story. 

The scene was from a male character’s perspective, describing him having a long and hard day at work where all he could think about was his partner. Y/N felt her face get progressively warmer as the character spoke about his partner, she couldn’t help but imagine this was how Harry was when he was horny and needy. 

Y/N knew that if she was his, she would certainly brighten up his mood after a tough day at work. Seeing her own name in the document however proved that Harry thought the same. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, her eyes lifting from the screen to look up at him as he ordered the pizza completely unaware of her discovery. 

This is what he imagined? This is what he wanted to do.... with her?

Harry ordered two cheese pizzas and some cinnamon dessert thing because there was a a special going on. He had thought about getting more but he didn’t want to go overboard with it, so he finished the order. Thank god for online ordering.

“Okay... it’ll be here in 25 minutes I think.” He hummed, looking up and freezing slightly. She looked blushy and her eyes wide as she read the post and he wondered why she looked a bit startled. “Hey... y’alright love?” He asked quietly. God damn it. Had he freaked her out too much? Was it just too much in general for the first time they properly hung out? He couldn’t remember exactly what scene he had pulled up. Just that it was recent, a billionaire type of thing.

Y/N casually moved the laptop on to the coffee table without answering his question. She didn’t think twice before she climbed on to his lap, hands settling on his shoulders. Sure, it was a risky move, but after what she’d read? She felt like she had to make her move. She wanted to be just as hot and sexy as he had imagined her to be. Harry’s shocked expression made her smile, hand going up to cup his cheek. 

“You left my name in the document...” Y/N’s voice spoke low and slow, thumb brushing over his now parted lips. Never did she think she could be so bold so soon, but fuck did it feel good. She felt so powerful, so sexy, and so so horny. “Thought about me riding your cock so much you wrote about it?” Y/N whispered, leaning in to kiss the skin just below his ear before nibbling at the skin. “Noticed me before we properly met... thought about me... is this what you wanted, baby?”

Harry blanked. 

Oh. fuck.

He hadn’t expected her to climb into his lap. Climbing on and straddling him, cupping his cheek, talking in that hot little voice that had his cock filling a bit. Holy fucking shit. 

“Oh—” He was cut off by her thumb over her lip. She was into it, into him. How had this happened? He had to be dreaming. But... no. Her heat was too real to be a dream. Her eyes too clear and dark, her smell too real. It was real. “Y-yeah...” He whispered, gasping when she kissed his skin, hand grabbing her waist. Oh, hell. Under his pants, his cock was quickly hardening. You couldn’t blame him, his dream woman, his crush, was straddling his lap and kissing his neck. Talking like this. 

“Thought about it ‘lots.” He muttered. She was so bold for this and that was something he found so sexy. When her teeth scraped his skin and bit down a bit harder, a dark groan left his mouth, hand on her waist tightening. “Holy shit... Y/N.”

“Hmm... feels good?” Y/N questioned, licking over the spot that she bit before moving to a new one. “Think I can make you cum in 25 minutes?” Y/N felt like she could take on the challenge, his cock was already hardening beneath her and she was a bit of foreplay away from being completely soaked. “Wanna try all of it, yeah?” Y/N muttered, nipping at the spot just where his jawline met his neck. “Riding your cock.... you bending me over, can choke me too. Please do...” She moaned at the thought, her hormones completely taking over. He still seemed to be frozen, despite his hand now on her waist so she moved her hips forward a little bit and tugged at his hair. “Wanna make you feel good.” 

Y/N had a kink for giving but it seemed Harry did as well. She expected a needy hook up, rough touches, quickness, pure lust. It’s exactly what she needed. It’s been a while since she’d hooked up with anyone and she was desperate for Harry to break her dry spell.

“Ah, shit.” Harry hissed. The tug at his hair sent a shock of hot arousal down his spine. That got him going so quickly. She wanted to fuck? Right now? He would be a fool to say no, and he wasn’t raised a fool. “Yeah? Y’want to ride my cock?” He asked lowly. “Fucks sake... I didn’t know you were so dirty.” He never would have guessed it from her either but... they were here. And he was snapped out of his shock by the tug, and now he was ready to do whatever the fuck she let him. “What did y’want the most, love? Tell me.” He had taken into account that she wanted to be choked, raising a hand to gently cuff her throat, bringing her close to his face. The confidence was soaring now, and all because she was leaking it. She wanted it, desperately. “I said, tell me.” He gave a quick squeeze to her throat. “Want to know what you need.”

“Need your cock, daddy.” Y/N moaned out, eyes blown and glazed over with desire. Y/N could feel the tension in her bones, cunt throbbing and aching to be touched. “Need you so bad, please— wanted you for so long, please make me cum, please!” She pleaded, fully giving into the fantasy. Y/N was never one to hold back and from what she had read, he certainly didn’t want her to. Her body felt like it was on fire, hands grabbing fist fulls of his sweater in hopes that he’d just take it off. Y/N wasn’t sure what type of body would be beneath it, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel his warm skin, lick and kiss all that she could while she worked her magic. Y/N waited for his directions, falling into the submissive role easily despite her initial approach. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re gonna have to re-write that scene.”

Harry was going to give this girl any fucking thing she wanted. He let her guide his sweater off, the cool air hitting his skin not even getting a chance because her hands and mouth were all over him. It was like she had fallen into a heat, and Harry.... he loved it. He placed his hands under her sweater, feeling her hands smooth over his chest as she kissed at his neck and over his jaw. Her skin was hot under the sweater, his hands gripping her waist and smoothing over her hips, going up and sip to her ribs where he realized— fuck. 

“Not wearing a fucking bra?” He hissed. “Jesus... you’re a little minx, aren’t you? Off with this.” He spoke lowly, grabbing the ends of it but barely had a shot before Y/N ripped it off of her body. Fucks sake. She was sexier than he had ever imagined. “My god... you’re so sexy, baby.” He whispered, sitting up and burying his face between her breasts. Kissing the hot skin between them, working his way up with the wet, open mouthed kisses to her throat.

“Oh Daddy...” Y/N’s body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth on her, head falling back as she let out a happy sigh. He seemed to like her hand in his hair so she happily gripped at his locks as he scattered kisses over her skin. “Come ‘ere...” She whined, guiding him up to her lips. “Wanna taste your mouth.” Making eye contact with him in this moment felt intimate. All those quick glances in classes and at the coffee shop, all the day dreaming, it all built up to this moment where she fully felt she could let herself let go. The both of them wanted this, it was so reassuring, this was a safe space and they could do whatever they wanted. Y/N’s body rolled forward, pushing him further back onto the couch and angling her hips so she could tease the both of them before she let herself have it. Fuck was he hard... and full. Another moan left her lips, sounding more like a plea and cry for more.

“Fuck me... you’re needy. I love it.” Harry hissed, pulling her mouth to his. It wasn’t soft. No, this kiss... it was hot. Heavy. Her mouth opened and immediately he dragged his tongue inside, meeting hers. She tasted like the apple juice and a bit of mint, and he could groan just from how good it was. Sweet little Y/N wasn’t too innocent at all. “Fuck— keep teasing me like that. S’like you want to end up crying.” He had a feeling now that she did. She wanted his cock inside of her pussy, thrusting in and out and letting herself soak him. Yeah... he wanted it too. “Keep calling me daddy. You’re so dirty. Who would have fucking... known.” He spoke between the kisses, hands going for her jeans. He wanted them off, like hours ago. He was finally going to get her. “M’gonna lay you out in my bed after... first m’gonna fuck you, but M’gonna clean out your cunt with my tongue. And then M’gonna take you again. Yeah?” She has come for studying but was staying for hot sex and he hoped to turn it into a nice marathon. He had all weekend and he was hoping she wouldn’t have to go. He had too many idea for her. “Gonna let daddy lick it up?”

“Fuck— yes, gonna let daddy have his way with me...” She kept her hips rolling against his slowly, keeping the rhythm in check with the passionate kiss they were sharing. Y/N already knew this was going to be the best sex of her life, the kiss alone let her know that. His tongue would work wonders on her cunt and she’d be more than happy to return the favor. Hesitantly, Y/N began to stand to get her jeans off, one of her hands staying put on the back of his neck so the kiss didn’t break. She let him fiddle with the zipper, feeling his fingers hook both her jeans and underwear before yanking them down to which Y/N let out a little squeal. 

Y/N knew she had to pull away from the kiss for air but she didn’t want to, waiting till the very last minute until she couldn’t anymore and went to get his jeans off.

“Come on. Be good.” He murmured against her lips, brushing his hips up so she could get his pants off. She tugged and easily they came down, Harry kicking them off as he pulled her back in his lap. His hands gripped her bare ass and groaned when she pushed into them, not thinking twice before pulling his hand back and smacking it the sound rang in the room and she let out the most sexy noise against his mouth, making him hiss. Fuck. He wanted her so fucking badly. This girl... she was everything. One hand went to feel and fuck. Fuck shit, motherfuck, it was wet. She was so, wet. “Jesus— you’re so wet. Baby— holy shit, you’re soaked.” He whispered. “S’cause of me? You wanted daddy’s cock this bad?” He pulled his fingers off slightly, the arousal still stringing to his fingers. He placed them at her mouth and pushed them in. “That’s it. Clean them up, sweet girl. You’re so filthy, y’know that? Precious little thing. So slick and hot, want cock so fucking bad don’t you?” He cooed, feeling her suck on the digits. “Now.... rub it against your pussy. Don’t put it in yet. get it wet.”

Y/N sucked at his fingers as if it were her job, making sure to treat it like she would his cock which included eye contact. She loved looking at him, seeing his hungry expression and his eyes that seemed to say so much more than he did. Even the feeling of her cunt sliding over his cock sent tingles up her spine. It had never affected her this much with other guys, but she assumed it was different with Harry because she had wanted him for so long. Y/N let out a whimper, feeling a gush of wetness accumulate when he pushed his fingers in farther. Harry was hot in ways she couldn’t explain, there were little things he did that just hit the spot and made her want to fuck him even harder. Y/N was practically bouncing on his cock, aching for him to let her have it inside.

“You’re such a good girl. Listening so fucking well.” Harry took his fingers from her mouth, smirking at the whine and slight chasing of his fingers when he placed it on her breast. She gave it all to him and honestly, he was ready to just... lose it. “Go ahead. Take what you want.” It was not even a moment later that he felt her begin to sink down. She was tight— so damn tight, and he choked slightly at just how good the squeeze was. He let out a hiss, head thrown back in the couch as the slick, hit cunt sucked over him, squeezing hard as she stretched open slowly. “Holy fuck.” He growled, gripping both hips now and looking at her with a darkness in his eyes. “You’re so bloody tight— Christ, you’re squeezin’ me so good.” He whispered.

“Daddy!” She whimpered as she slid farther down on his cock until she couldn’t fit anymore of him in. “I’m so full— feels so good.” Her eyes rolled back a bit as she began to bounce at a slowed rhythm. Small moans and little huffs came from her throat with every stroke of her hips, it wasn’t until she felt warmed up that she actually went for it. Y/N shifted so that she had better balance, keeping her hands on his shoulders before dropping back down on his cock. “Fuck!” She squeaked, making sure to clench one her way back up before repeating the action at a quicker pace. It felt incredible. He was touching every little part of her, feeling small waves of pleasure spread throughout her body. “Daddy! Fuck— feels so good ahhh!” Her moans were pornographic, whiny, desperate and needy. She didn’t even know she could sound like that, but apparently it was possible when she was as thirsty for cock as she was.

Never would he have guessed that this would be the outcome of their hang out. He had hoped, sure. Dreamed? Absolutely. But the reality was so much better. He had the hot, wet and extremely tight pussy gliding up and down his cock. She was moaning, tits bouncing in his face, and she was vocal. More than he could have asked for. The infatuation he had with her was only growing. 

“Fuck, you’re a good girl. Such a perfect little cunt. Like bouncing on my cock, hm? Knew you’d be the perfect girl for me. Keep going.” His hand squeezed her ass, encouraging her to work herself on him. “Feels so full, yeah? Such a big cock filling such a little pussy. A nice stretch for you hm? So eager to be filled up...” her face was of pure bliss and Harry couldn’t help but take a mental photo. He hoped this could happen more than this once. “Knew you’d be good for me. Throwin’ yourself in my lap and begging to be fucked. Never guessed you’d be such a little slut, but I love it.” He took his hand, bringing it down sharply on her ass.

“Fuck!” Y/N gasped, her own hand moving to cuff his neck. It wasn’t as effective as him doing it to her, but it got the point across. The both of them grabbing at each other roughly, him thrusting up into her each time she slammed down. It could only be described as pure ecstasy, surely the hottest sex she had ever had. She needed him, she needed him to cum. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss his mouth again, making a mess of the two of them. “You’re so fucking good— love your cock, daddy... fucking love it!” She moaned between kisses, increasing her pace just enough so she could fuck him hard and steady. “I want you to cum for me daddy, wanna feel it nice and deep.” Thank fuck for IUDs. “Want you to fill me up while I cum all over your cock, can you do that for me? Can you cum with me?”

He was panting, lowering himself so he could properly thrust into her sopping cunt. He hadn’t gotten any in so long but this blew any and everyone out of the water. No one could ever understand how good this was. All the pining and imagining had come to an even better conclusion. 

“I’ll do it... but you... gotta promise me.” He growled, giving a particularly sharp thrust inside of her, making her wail. “Promise me I can do it again. Let me have this pussy more.” He didn’t want it to end if it was the only time he could get it. It was too good to let go of. Drooling all over his cock and her soft whimpers and dirty words had him more worked up than anything else. “Promise, baby, and I’ll let you have my cum.”

“Promise— I promise— fuck!” She felt her breath get caught in her throat at the particularly hard thrusts Harry was giving her. “Please Daddy, please give it to me.” Y/N whimpered, moving her hands so they cupped his cheeks, keeping eye contact with him as they continued to relentlessly thrust into each other. There was nothing more satisfying, nothing that managed to hit every part of her both physically and spiritually and made her feel so alive. When you’ve wanted something for so long it makes getting it that much better and she knew that she’d always be chasing this high that only he could give her. “I’m so close, fuck, daddy—“ She mumbled between kisses, squeezing around him and continuing at her pace to bring herself to the perfect high. “Cum with me daddy, please— ah!”

Harry would work on his stamina next round. But after the whole thing, he was close to losing his mind. She was giving him the most tempting offer and he wasn’t going to give it up. 

“Oh— fuck me.” He thrusted in again and again before he let himself go. Feeling her clench up around him and sob against his mouth, he let out a deep growl as he buried himself deep. Hot cum shooting inside of her cunt, rocking his hips in to get it all in there. There was no doubt that this was some of the most intense sex of his life but he was almost ready to go again, as soon as it ended. Holding her shivering form, her orgasm was tapering, he could feel her clenching still. “That’s it. Take all of it inside of you. Good girl.”

Y/N gripped Harry’s shoulders, loud screams of pleasure coming straight from her throat. There were no words to describe the high, she almost felt out of her own body as he showered her with praise. With her body shaking and face contorting with a silent scream, she found it in her to come back down letting out a pathetic whimper.

“Daddy—” She swallowed thickly, mouth finding his messily, pressing kisses to his lips and his face. The two of them were both lightly covered in sweat, breathing heavily and enjoying each other’s company. Y/N was far too blissed out to think about what just happened, but blissed out enough to know there would be many more rounds of this tonight. Y/N smiled as she nuzzled against his neck, still sponging kissing to his dampened skin. “Better?” She mumbled, smirking against his skin a bit.

“Mm.” He hummed, hands holding her hips still. Holy hell. This was the beginning of an amazing weekend- because he didn’t plan on letting her out at all, if he could help it’ he wanted her to stay, to let him indulge in her. “So fucking good.” He muttered lowly, rubbing his hand up her back and smoothing over her skin. Fucks sake. This was paradise. Nothing could pop him out of this. 

At least, that was until the doorbell rang. 

“Ah, fuck. The pizza.”

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let us know what you think!

masterlist

[fruit-salad-ship]

🍧🎵💐

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

Plum: Loads of things, stuffed toys, books, photos, most of which are at home in Alola with her family. She has a couple of photos from her 10th birthday that seem to mean a lot to her, her family perhaps could have been more present while she was growing up, but they were both there with her on that day, a day she was gifted her first ever pokemon parter missy as a little dratini. She’s framed them, they currently hang in her Dotaku apartment. Should she lose them she’d probably cry a little but knows its just a thing, the memory remains.

Grey: Grey kept his dads jacket, and still uses it from time to time. Use to be so big on him but now he cant do the zip up. He doesn’t say it, but he likes to have it around still, and sometimes wears it to go visit his family. In all honesty it fits peach better now days, but thats ok, he just likes seeing it. If it were to finally be lost or broken, he’d try to repair it, or if that is impossible, he’d sulk for a few days. He may have to go home and steal another jacket, but nothing compares, that one had significance.

Peach: She’s got a family ring, not that she tells anyone thats what it is. On rare occasion is used to gain entry to underground locations. No one questions her if she’s got that. She use to never wear it, but as she’s aged, it’s crept into her collection, snuck on her hands with several other rings to make it less obvious, mixed and matched. It’s not easy to tell wether she likes or hates it, but if she was to lose it, she’d be very conflicted. Its not a good memory receiving it, but it also kind of was? Bitter sweet. One of the first and only moments her mother seemed not disappointed with her, sadly she was disappointed with herself…or proud for persevering? It’s a messy memory.

🎵 MUSIC NOTE - what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them?

Plum: All over the place. She loves a lot of up beat pop, RnB, but also thrives on anything with a brass section. The sort to have three playlists for moods, no more, no less. Sad, happy, running. (I associate Plum with: MEUTE - You & Me)

Grey: his family is large so he’s perfected the art of making a playlist to suit all ages. For this reason he’s wise to a lot of older songs and bands that perhaps got forgotten by the younger crowd. This doesn’t make his taste old school, he’s very adaptable. Knows what to play at any given moment to get a party going. His personal taste a wide and varied, appreciating almost all genres for one reason or another. A sucker for classic rock though. (I associate Grey with: Jank Setup - Prince Of Something)

Peach: anything with a filthy bass line, or that slaps hard. Never has sad songs on. Her lack of connection to music is apparent, having not had much music in her home as a child or teenager. She’s not very knowledgable on it as a topic, but over the years with Grey has learnt to enjoy it, and even found songs she actually enjoys, will never put a song on if asked. (I associate Peach with: YONAKA - Seize The Power)

💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

Plum: Classic romantic, red roses, gypsophila, maybe flamboyant white lilies. BUT! She’s from the tropics, and Peach will especially pick up on this, often favouring Bird of Paradise or Heliconia, palms and broad leaves, a bit more fancy than your average Johto garden can produce. However her favourite is Plumeria. Unrivalled in scent, she gets all nostalgic when she smells them.

Grey: Loves greens, whites and grasses. He’s the sort to revel in ferns, loves them. Fond of a Chrysanthemum, loves a wax flower. He’s big on textures, so the fancy seed heads from some species also get a lot of love from him.

Peach: impossible to pick a single fav, she’s forever asked this question and it keeps her up at night. In her heart of hearts she knows its Forget-Me-Nots, though why she can’t remember, ironically. Her choices are always humble. Wildflower, big blousy daisys that you see growing on the side of roads, knapweed, cornflower, ragwort, buttercups, all the stuff you see pop up through cracks in the concrete. Defiant. Sure fancy is nice, but it doesn’t beat a bunch picked by someone you love who thought of you while out on a walk. Nothing compares.

[cardansfae]

This is my last minute fanfiction from the prompt “What We Do In The Shadows” day 19. @jurdannet @jurdannetrevels sorry it’s so last minute!

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He was so infuriating. Gods above, every single time I saw his smirk, I had the need to

punch him. He would sit in his pretty corner with his high-leveled friends. They would laugh at little jokes they made of us mortals. How our ears weren’t as pretty as theirs. Or that we couldn’t see in the dark. It brought fire to my eyes as if we had the choice of capabilities we were born with. Cardan and his pretty little rings can fuck off for all I care.

The bell rings as Taryn packs up the cheese and crackers I’d been eating.

“Stop snarling, Jude. We need to get to class,” she says.

“Ughh fine,” I murmured. I wouldn’t stay too long anyway.

As I enter the classroom, I glance for the prince, as he’s nowhere to be found. I bet he’s hiding his pretty little tail somewhere. He probably noticed my anger from across the field and ran off.

“Hey, where are you going?” Taryn asked as I scurried to find a certain curly black-haired prince.

I look around the stone-built school. Its dark walls brought academia to feel to it. The sun is an exception. I look in the small rooms, where Cardan might be hiding. Which one would he choose this time? Last, it was the art room. The time before that, we were surrounded by flowers on the field.

I hear a faint chuckle towards the art room we had been painting a few weeks ago.

As I step in, I see a shadow of a tail on the canvas of the darkroom. The sunlight projected through the windows of the dim atmosphere. Then another chuckle comes from my right.

I see Cardan sitting on a table, eating the peach he had brought as a snack. The juice spilled over his lips as he took another bite from the sugary fruit. He slowly licks it off, making me wish it was my tongue instead. The sun beamed on his gold paint, surrounding his onyx eyes. He looked godly, but I knew he was far from it.

“Are you going to keep standing there, my sweet villain?” he says intensely, looking into

my eyes, “or do you want a taste?”

“Running away, are you Cardan? What was the reason this time?” I ask.

“You looked rather murderous, my sweet nemesis,” he stands up and slowly walks

towards me, “like you were ready to kill.” He gets closer with each step. I’m unable to move as he tightens the space between us.

“Maybe I was,” I answer, “maybe I wanted to stab your heart with my dagger. What would you do then?” he gets close enough for me to smell the peach he had been eating.

“Then, I would take your punishment with pleasure, Jude.”

“We can’t keep doing this, Cardan.”

“Keep doing what?” he asks as if he doesn’t know what I’m implying.

“What we do in the shadows,” I say.

“You mean how I get you in a room and kiss all your curves,” he says deeply,

looking into my eyes. “Or how I corner you, and kiss you right under your ear, making you moan every time,” he plays it out as he whispers in my ear. “Or is it how we sneak around and fuck until your sore enough, that you still remember our activities the next day.”

I whimper as he nips at my neck, making me rub my legs together. He notices and

chuckles against my neck.

“Can you stop, my darling god?” he asks as he grabs my hips, and kisses down my neck towards my chest. “Cause I know, I can’t Jude. I can’t ever stop touching you.” He picks me up and lays me on the table. He pulls the top of my dress down, revealing my breasts.

“Gods Jude, your skin is beautiful,” he says mesmerized, then lowers his head and

sucks a nipple into his mouth making me moan.

“Cardan, someone's gonna see us,” I say whimpering. His tongue takes turns wrapping

around each erect nipple.

“Let them, Jude,” he pulls the remainder of my dress down my body and throws it on the floor. “Let them see how I fuck you the way I want, and you enjoy every second of it”. He goes down my body, kissing my stomach.

“Let them see how Jude Duarte only softens for her boyfriend and prince, Cardan

Greenbriar.” I moan as Cardan nips the skin right above my panties.

I had asked Vivi to bring me some from the human world when she visited, and Cardan had been a big fan of them ever since. I start to pant when Cardan wraps his fingers around my panties. He slowly pulls them down, as he looks at me in lust. He throws them on the floor next to my dress.

“Wet as always, my darling god.” He kneels down on the floor and takes a hold of my thighs. Lowering his head, he licks my pussy causing me to moan.

“Fuck, Jude. You taste sweeter than any fruit.”

“Cardan, please. Just fuck me already,” I beg.

“My, my, Jude. Patience.”

“If you make me wait a second later, I’ll cut you Cardan,” I threaten him.

He chuckles and takes off his coat and dress shirt revealing his naked chest. Then he pulls down his pants and underwear together making him fully naked, as I am. I whimper seeing him bare and hard. So hard.

I can’t wait any longer, I reach for his hair and pull him in for a kiss. He automatically

groans and rubs his cock on my pussy. We both moan. Cardan grabs my legs and pulls me up into the middle of the table. Then he jumps up onto the table, in between my legs.

“Are you ready, my sweet nemesis?”

“Fuck yes, Cardan,” I moan, impatiently.

He chuckles and slams into me.

“Cardan!” I scream. He groans against my ear. His hips thrust heavily against mine. I

moan loudly.

“Yeah, Jude. Let them all know you’re mine,” Cardan groans into my ear, “scream for

me.” He pistons his dick into me, madly. I dig my nails into his back, screaming louder. My legs tighten around his hips. Cardan’s lips kiss up to my chin, as I throw my head back in pleasure. He bites my chin as I reach my orgasm. I scream his name out loud. 2 strokes later Cardan cums.

We both lay down, breathing loudly. I climb up on Cardan’s chest and lay my head down. He slowly plays with my hair, as I exhale and calm down from my orgasm.

“I love you, my darling Jude,” Cardan kisses my head.

“I love you too, you pain in the ass,” Jude says tiredly. Cardan chuckles.

They slowly get up and get dressed to go to Cardan’s room in The Hallowed Hall for the remainder of the day. There, they would spend their time looking at Cardan’s back. Scars replaced by Jude’s nail marks she would make in pleasure. They spend their time in the secrecy of nothing but each other.

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 6.11}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

It was that time of the year again before Robin knew. As always, christmas had approached fast and suddenly rather than steadily, but the festive spirit had been long evident throughout the entire month of December. The holidays this year looked a little different than usual though; Cas had been asked by a fifth year student to attend the new year's ball with him, upon which she spontaneously had decided to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays. Robin had offered to take Jorien to the ball as her plus one, but the girl had decided to just go home as planned. So it was just Cas and Robin who would attend the ball this year.

Honestly, Robin felt weary of the boy who had asked Cas out. He seemed nice enough at the first glance, but something about him was ringing an alarm bell in the back of her mind. Cas obviously didn't care about Robin's words of warning, saying how she at least had a date for the ball, which probably should've hurt Robin more than it did. After this rather uncomfortable conversation however, she had decided to keep her concerns to herself, but an eye on Cas nonetheless. She didn't want her to get hurt, not even by something that, to her, was so ridiculously irrelevant as teenage drama. Because she knew that to Cas, it wasn't irrelevant at all.

The last day of the year came, and before long Robin thanked herself for actually bothering to invest in a dress this year. And she foremost thanked herself for having the endurance last summer to actually make an effort and not just get the first best one in Diagon Alley, which would've merely been a differently coloured version of what pretty much all of the other girls wore (with a few honorable exceptions, of course). No, Robin had made the decision to go with her own taste rather than the attempt to fit in, and she still stood behind it to the fullest.

Cas on the other hand had about five different dresses lying on her bed and was desperate to pick one, which did not even come as a surprise to Robin. The girl's love for fashion had exploded rather than faded, and while Robin had no idea why Cas had packed so many pretty dresses unaware that she would be attending the ball, it also didn't particularly surprise her.

"You should wear the dark blue one." Robin commented from her seat on her own bed, while she unsuccessfully tried to untangle her hair. "It reminds me of the nightsky. And who doesn't love the night?"

"Most people don't, actually." Cas sighed in exaggerated despair. "I was thinking about the peach coloured one with the ruffles."

"You're the fashion guru." Robin shrugged. "But I think darker colours are more classy. And the ball is very classy, most of the time. Or trying to be anyway."

"Classy or stuffy?"

"A bit of both, perhaps. Foremost, it is entirely what you make of it."

"In that case, I'll wear the peach coloured one." Cas decided with a more or less determined expression. "What about you? We're gonna be late if you don't get started at once!"

"Well, I don't have an entire wardrobe of dresses to pick between. I showered and sorted out my hair; I'll literally be done within five minutes from this point on."

"What about makeup? What about hairstyles?! What about shoes?!" Cas asked in return, incredulous about Robin's lack of enthusiasm about these things. "Seriously, aren't you gonna make any effort at all?"

"As you said, I don't have a date anyway. Nobody expects me to make an effort." Robin shrugged in return, unbothered by her roommate's comments. "And since you obviously didn't see me for the last few years, I will kindly let you know that putting on an actual dress this year IS me making an effort."

"I cannot believe you. I just cannot believe you…" Cas rolled her eyes as she muttered to herself, but then went ahead to get ready herself and leave Robin reading on her bed in peace for the next hour and a half. That's how long it took Cas to go through all of her extensive preparations and procedures, and Robin thought it was admirable how much effort she put into this indeed.

Finally, twenty minutes before the ball would begin and while Cas was still in the bathroom making 'last minute' adjustments to her colorful eye makeup, Robin got up from her bed with a sigh, put her book down and dug her dress out of her trunk at last. Like most things she bought these days, it was almost entirely black, but for the silver ornamentations and spiky flowers sewed onto the shoulders. Everything from the waist down was flowing black fabric, as was the long pieces that attached to the shoulders instead of sleeves, billowing down the arms like a backless cape. That precisely was also what made it difficult to put on, without stepping onto the piles of fabric that however barely brushed the ground once she pulled it up. The neckline came in high at the sides, almost high enough to cover up her scar, while the front was curved into a low V shape, that had always reminded Robin of spades. The solid black of the simple corset made up for the detailing on the shoulders and the heavy billowing fabrics of the skirt, and its snug fit and the thick fabric were comforting rather than confining to her. For once, Robin actually felt powerful through wearing a mere piece of clothing. And while perhaps she might not fit in with the other students, she definitely would with the professors.

"Bloody hell!" Cas suddenly exclaimed, and Robin jumped in return, twirling around to face the girl who spoke on in the meanwhile. "How dare you looking that gorgeous?!"

Robin's face heated up in an instant, and even though it was Cas she was talking to, she couldn't help being flustered. "Uh, thanks, I guess."

"I mean, I still stand with my statement that you shouldn't wear so much black, but good gracious… that dress is a piece of art. And it just screams 'Robin' to me, so you actually did pick well for once!"

"Don't sound so surprised." Robin rolled her eyes, while she had to smile nonetheless. "But thank you anyway. I wanted to look like myself tonight, and not like I dressed up as someone I'm not."

"But dressing up as someone you're not for one night is the entire point of it!" Cas replied with a grin, then dimmed it down to a smile. "But I understand you, and I think you look exactly like yourself. Just more beautiful than usual."

"Thanks…" Robin scoffed in humour, torn between sarcasm and honesty, and thus settled for both. "Again."

"So tell me, who do you wanna impress with that dress?" Cas quirked an eyebrow at Robin, smirking while she observed her closely. "And don't tell me no one, because I know you, and you wouldn't have made an effort just for yourself."

"Everyone." Robin answered instead, deeming it just as not-saying as 'no one'. Meanwhile, she tried to find a place to store her wand, which was turning out to be an actual problem now. No sleeves, no real sleeves at least, and no hemlines or pockets. Great. Then however an idea struck her, and in no time she had twisted her hair up into a bun, which she could easily fixate with her wand indeed. Two problems solved with one action, wonderful.

"I cannot believe you just did that." Cas commented on Robin's action in an instant. "And I cannot believe that it actually looks good! I spent an hour doing my hair, and you just… use your wand like a hair accessory within two bloody seconds."

Robin sighed in return, but she had to smile once again at Cas and her view of the world. "Your hair looks a million times better, believe me. I'm not trying to look good, I'm only trying to look acceptable while being functional. That's a difference."

"If you say so…" Cas sighed, and the two girls finally started making their way up to the great hall. "Coming back to my question though; who do you really want to impress? Is it that boy who's sitting next to you in Professor Morgan's class since recently?"

"Alexander? God no!" Robin snorted, shaking her head to herself while she actually enjoyed striding through the hallways quite so elegantly for once. "If you must know, I'm not trying to impress someone, but to prove a point to someone."

"Uuh!" Cas squealed quietly, skipping in her steps next to Robin in glee. "To whom? And which point?"

"You would do well to focus on your own date for now. Where did he want to meet you again?"

"Just outside the hall. You won't scare him off, Robin, will you? I know you don't like him, but he's really cool and so are his friends, and I don't wanna be the stupid third year whose big sister has to watch over her."

"You won't even notice me tonight, unless you need me. Good?"

"Yes. Thank you." Cas smiled, then took a deep breath while her smile widened even more. "I'm actually going to the ball! With a cute boy! Can you believe it?! I've waited for this moment for months!!!"

"I hope tonight is everything you dreamt of." Robin replied with a small smile, but it was tainted by concern no less. Just shortly before they reached the last crossing before the great hall, she turned to Cas once more. "Don't get into trouble, and don't do anything stupid. I don't want to find you drunk in our bathroom later or anything of that sort."

"Yes, professor." Cas rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, but gave Robin a small hug nonetheless, before she skipped ahead and towards wherever she would meet her date.

Robin decided to give Cas a little while at least, to spare her the embarrassment of arriving with her watchdog indeed. When she finally did make her way into the great hall, she was barely still on time, with two more minutes to go until the festivities would begin. The very moment she entered the hall, a few more eyes were drawn to her than in the last years, but not enough to make her feel observed. At least Robin didn't notice enough eyes on her to feel like people were actually paying attention to her. In an instant, she moved to stand off to the side and let her eyes trail over the crowds in the search for her own company.

"Looking for something?" Snape's voice was so close behind her that Robin jumped for the second time this evening, but then turned around to him with a smile. The very moment she did, she believed to see a glimpse of sincere awe flashing through his eyes, but she might as well be mistaken. She probably was, unfortunately. It might just be the candles and some wishful thinking.

"Looking for someone." She smiled up at him in amusement. "But it seems that someone found me first."

"How very fortunate for you." He replied with a not-smirk, as much of it as he would show in public at least, and his gaze flickered over her garments for just a second before returning to her eyes. "Did you have to choose black?"

"Obviously." She smirked, feeling highly amused by his difficulty to show a suitable reaction to her choice of outfit.

"It suits you."

Now, that she hadn't expected, but she appreciated it nonetheless as her smirk turned into a smile. "Thank you."

"How… came the change in your choice of attire for tonight's event?"

"You complained last year that I was wearing the same thing I wore to the conference the summer before." Robin shrugged, observing his almost uncertain expression. "Thought I'd prove to you that I can look nice too, when I actually try."

"You didn't need to." He mused, but before Robin could give a reply, both their attention was drawn to the front of the room where Dumbledore was getting started with his welcoming speech.

Robin turned towards the front to at least pretend to listen, and a few seconds later she noticed the gentle hand that came to rest on the small of her back. She had to smile in an instant, glancing up at Snape out of the corners of her eyes, but he was looking towards the front as neutrally and indifferently as always, always the contrast to his lingering touch. Oh, how she had missed this.

… … …

As soon as the possibility had come up, Snape and Robin had moved back into their usual corner and to their usual table. For a good two hours they stayed sitting there like always, in their usual habit of gossiping and teasing, until at last the inevitable happened, the one thing Robin had indeed seen coming all along.

With the saddest face in history, Cas came approaching them with an expression showing precisely that she was barely able to keep her tears from spilling over. Robin's immediate line of thought went along the path of 'told you so', but she frowned it away and out of her mind, and instead jumped to her feet in honest concern.

"I'll be back in a second." She said to Snape, who nodded in return, then she went to meet Cas a few steps further down the wall. They weren't technically out of sight, but out of earshot at least. "What happened?"

"As if that would be so hard to guess." Cas replied with a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest but making herself so small at the same time that it appeared more as a gesture of holding herself together than defiance. Robin simply went ahead and hugged her then, out of an impulse, and Cas immediately clung onto her in return. "You were right… He's an asshole."

"What did he do?" Robin asked softly, drawing reassuring circles on her friend's back, while on the inside however, she felt furious. Whatever that boy had done, he would pay for making Cas cry. Even if it was just teenage drama, Robin wasn't having it tonight. Or perhaps she just needed a deserving victim for her own annoyance at Cas for not listening to her any earlier.

"He and his two stupid friends wanted to go and hang out somewhere else, somewhere more interesting than here and 'have a little fun'. I said I didn't want to, so they just made fun of me for being such a prudish child and dreadfully boring. Then they just laughed at me and Jos said he should never have asked me to the ball." She mumbled into Robin's shoulder, and only a few seconds later she looked up at her again. "I'm not boring, am I?"

"Not at all." Robin replied with a small smile. "I'm very proud of you for not letting them drag you into something you didn't want to do."

"It's not even that I'm scared to do something forbidden… I couldn't care less, honestly, unless it's something really bad. But I just want to stay here for a while, you know… to enjoy the ball. I like the ball." Cas shrugged, still looking sad about it. "No need to insult me for that, right?"

"Nothing gives them the right to insult you at all." Robin replied pointedly, then let her eyes trail over the room for a second before turning back to Cas. "Did they leave already?"

"No… they wanted to find some other people first who would actually be willing to go with them for their private party." The girl scoffed, pushing her hair behind her ear with a bit more confidence already. "Why?"

"I should have a little talk with Jos, and with his friends as well if needed." Robin stated in a dangerous calm, then started pulling Cas along, back towards her table. Without making much fuss about it, she sat Cas down next to Snape. "Wait here, yes? I'll be right back."

"You don't have to, Robin, really, it's-..."

"Yes, I do have to." She replied calmly, ignoring both Cas' insecure look and Snape's mildly irritated one, and then turned on her heel to find the boy in question. They really needed to have a talk; no one mistreated or ridiculed her friends.

Jos really wasn't too difficult to find, his group of friends practically entertained the entire section of the room. 'Cool and popular' Cas had said… more like 'jocks and jerks'. Robin approached him without slowing down, and even though the boy was only a fifth year, he was a good head taller than her. That didn't intimidate her in the least however, and while being surrounded by so many people, so many strangers, would've made her nervous in any other situation, it did not do so now. She was on a mission, and somehow her body seemed to understand that.

"Jos?" She merely asked in a cold calm tone once she stood facing the boy.

"Uh, yeah? That would be me." He quirked an eyebrow down at her in amusement, while his pals nudged him in the sides with utterly pathetic grins. "The one and only."

"I thought so." Robin returned, then didn't waste a second to follow her impulses once again. The thing about physically strong people was that they usually spent ridiculously little time guarding their minds. Thus it was but an effortless thought on Robin's part, and she was in his mind, staring him down at the same time while he stumbled backwards against a table, then slumped down on the bench behind his legs. She felt his mind trying to lock her out, but it was a pathetic attempt at the most, and thus she went ahead to give him a very clear visual of what would happen to him should he ever dare to say a single bad word about Cas again, in her presence or not. After half a minute of this the boy was a terrified mess, half sitting and half sprawled out on the bench, looking up at Robin with teary eyes while she withdrew from his mind at last. Then she turned to his gawking friends, who hadn't even tried to help their pal.

"Would anyone else like to know what happens when you mess with the wrong people?" She asked politely, and five people shook their heads immediately. As much as she wanted to smirk at that, she kept her face neutral. "Great. Have a nice evening."

Without waiting for their reactions, she turned around once more and made her way through the hall and back towards her own table, feeling her confidence fade the moment she was out of their sight. Geez… she really shouldn't have done that. All those years she'd been doing her best to stand above such impulsive behaviour, and here she was now, mildly torturing a lower year. Letting off steam on other people. Great job, idiot. Perhaps it was the dress that gave her the illusion of too much power. Perhaps it was Snape's company.

"And? How did it go?" Cas asked the very second Robin approached them, and the girl luckily looked a lot more like herself already. Not sad and small anymore, but excited and almost happy again, and Robin found that this was what had made her own uncharacteristic behavior worth it in the end. To see her friends happy, she would gladly go against her higher standards.

"I made him cry." Robin sighed in resignation, and sat down on the bench in between Cas and Snape. "It was a very wrong thing to do though, so don't take it as an example. A negative one, perhaps."

"I don't care if it was wrong, you made him cry for me and that's awesome." Cas grinned, then almost knocked Robin off the bench with a tight hug. "Thank you! I really should have listened to you earlier…"

"It's nothing, really. But yes, you should have." Robin huffed in amusement, even though she still felt mildly concerned about the entire 'revenge leads to more revenge' thing. But she hadn't seen any speckle of that in Jos' mind, so perhaps it really wasn't an issue for once. Not when it was about something so minor, with somebody so imbecilic.

"Uhm, sorry to, uh… to interrupt…" A foreign voice drew Robin's attention to a blond curly haired boy she couldn't remember seeing before, and Cas followed suit while she let go of Robin. The boy obviously seemed unsettled either by Snape or Robin, perhaps by both of them, for he only glanced at them nervously from time to time and otherwise focused on Cas entirely. "I, uh… I couldn't help noticing what my idiot classmates said to you, and well… I just wanted to ask if you were alright?"

Cas blushed a deep crimson, and Robin had to subtly nudge her in the side eventually to remind her that she could speak. "Uh, yeah, I… Thank you. That's… very nice of you to ask."

Robin could practically feel how Snape rolled his eyes at the scene, but she was also very much aware of the fact that he was still here despite everything that had happened in the past minutes. She couldn't help nudging him in the side as well, smirking, and he gave her a glare in return. Robin smiled even more.

"Would you… uh, would you care for a dance perhaps? With me, I mean? I could try to cheer you up with my horrible dancing skills and ridiculous jokes." The blonde boy finally got out with a crooked smile, and Cas nodded immediately. Then she gave Robin a questioning look, but she just motioned for her to go ahead already. Thus, within seconds, Cas and the boy vanished in the crowd.

"I have never seen something more pathetic in my entire life." Snape finally remarked dryly, and Robin had to snort at the comment. It was absolutely only for show, and she knew that just as well as him.

"Oh come on, I think it was adorable." She replied with a smirk. "I feel a lot better about this one than that prick she came here with."

"You are aware that I missed the important bits of the conversation, yes?"

"I know." Robin sighed, then turned to him to explain. "Fifth year, straight brown hair, very tall, called Jos. Might be a nickname though. You know him?"

"Yes. I could've told you from the start that he is a complete dunderhead."

"I for my part knew that from the start as well, but Cas didn't want to believe me when I told her. Either way, he asked her to the ball, she had high hopes, but then he and his friends made fun of her, right before she came here. So much for the pre-story." Robin sighed again, her smile faltering. "Then I did something stupid and very much unlike me. I went over there and basically bashed him in the head with a few pictures strategically placed in his mind, of what I would do to him if he kept on being an arse."

"So that's what got him to shiver in fear at the mere sight of you." Snape mused with a not-smirk, and Robin was twice surprised in return.

"You saw that?" She asked first of all, frowning.

"I did indeed. Most of it, at least."

"And you're not disappointed? Not even telling me how idiotic that was? How imbecile and irresponsible and redundant?" She added the second question right on, and part of her hoped that he would do just what she'd said, and part of her hoped for the opposite. "You've been telling me since first year how stupid impulsive reactions like this are!"

"Why would I need to tell you something you are already well aware of?" He quirked an eyebrow at her, but upon her defeated expression, he finally sighed as well. "Sometimes we do a wrong thing for the right reasons. You defended someone you care about. I doubt that could even be considered wrong in the first place."

"And using legilimency on lower years? How are you going to justify that?"

"I won't, that certainly was wrong by any means. But I enjoyed watching it nonetheless." He said with another not-smirk, which finally got Robin to smile as well. "You certainly know how to intimidate people. It's quite impressive."

"I learned from the very best." She replied with a smirk, and he rolled his eyes in return, while his own smile still lingered on his lips.

They just kept on chatting for a while then, the incident soon forgotten and insignificant, and before long things returned to normal. Almost normal, for they were left sitting closer together than ever after Cas had left, shoulders almost touching now, heat brushing against the bare skin of Robin's arms when her robe sleeves moved out of the way. She knew that he must take notice of the closeness as well, of her shoulder gently brushing against his arm from time to time whenever she moved, and yet he didn't move away at all. The thought made her smile.

They had been listening to the music for a while, merely enjoying each other's company like they did so very often, when Robin caught sight of Cas dancing with the blond boy again. It had been an hour at least since they had left to dance; obviously it was going quite well, and Robin couldn't help being curious.

"Who is the boy dancing with Cas anyway?" She asked Snape, while still keeping her eyes on the couple on the dancefloor.

"Curious, are we?" He mused in return, undoubtedly humoured. "His name is Simon Durrell, fifth year. Ravenclaw. He is quite horrible at potions, but smarter and therefore less of a nuisance than his peers. Wears his heart on his sleeves quite like your friend."

"Good." Robin smiled up at Snape at last. "I would've hated having to behead him if he was a jerk to Cas. She looks happy dancing with him."

"You should be dancing as well." Snape said in a sudden feigned neutrality that made Robin's smile fade in return. "One doesn't wear a gown like that only to hide in a corner all night."

"Why not?" She shrugged, focusing on her hands in her lap. Was he trying to get rid of her? Find a polite excuse to get away? No, that wouldn't be like him at all. He would just get up and leave if he wanted to. Robin didn’t know what he wanted to hear. "Nobody's ever asked me to dance anyway."

"Oh please... You are by far better than waiting for some dunderhead to ask you for a dance. Go and ask someone first, someone who deserves your company." His tone turned from neutral to grave in a broken second, as he turned to look away along with it. "Or at least someone who knows that they never will."

There was something ineffably sad about his words, his voice, his eyes when she looked up at him once more. He wasn't trying to get rid of her… He was giving her the chance to be happier elsewhere, without him. Robbin’s heart skipped a beat, then squeezed all air out of her lungs. If only he knew; if only she could make him understand. Then again… Perhaps she could.

"You know what? I will." Robin replied determinedly, and rose to her feet with one graceful move. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed out her dress with shaking hands, standing straight after sitting for so long, and then finally turned back around to Snape. Gods, he looked so sad under all those facades. She took another deep breath, then held out her hand to him. "Would you do me the honor and dance with me?"

______________________________

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[gyllenhaalstories]

We need more Jake as your bff content!!!!

CLICK THE SOURCE LINK TO BE REDIRECTED TO THE HEADCANONS OF BEST FRIEND!JAKE <3

(warnings: some sexual mentions but that’s it!)

Your contact names on each other’s phone are probably Wifey and Hubby with tons of emojis. It started as a joke when your other friends called you a married couple and you never changed them ever since. Saying “Siri call Hubby” only to have Siri reply “Calling Hubby skull emoji throw up emoji blue heart emoji eggplant emoji” and/or “Calling Wifey wedding ring emoji peach emoji heart eyes emoji otter emoji”.

Long phone calls in the middle of the night are your favourite thing. One time, he was away filming some movie and you tried cooking that one recipe he always makes when you’re feeling sad. And it was dinner time for you, but like 4 am for him and he had to be up at 6 to go through makeup and hair. He didn’t care. He helped you out and kept telling you he wishes he was there to taste the food because he just knew you made it better than him.

Lots of “Saw this, reminds me of you” moments. Whether it’s memes (although he doesn’t quite understand the concept), street art on the walls of unknown buildings, funky souvenir purchases form across the globe when Jake travelled, weirdly shaped fruits and vegetables from the grocery store. Anything was a good excuse.

You were always on each other’s mind.

You followed each other on Spotify and you always happen to be listening to the same music at the same time. Probably because you’re just listening to your “Dumb bitch and Shit head” playlist about your friendship but still, it’s crazy. 

You pretended to be each other’s dates at weddings of relatives or acquaintances. Your favourite things to do was to steal away the biggest slices of wedding cake and just stuff your face or ask the DJ or musicians to play Crazy On You by Heart and you both sang and danced your heart out on the dance floor when everyone is slow dancing and being boring.

Shopping for clothes is like a whole day-long plan. You’d go to the mall when it opens and leave at the closing hour because you both insist on only buying what fits you best. “This shade of gray does not match that silver patch in your beard”, “Can you look bad in one colour? You’re so selsifh, you’re out there owning the entire rainbow because you look good in everything”, “You just wanna walk around and show everyone the size of your dick because these pants are screaming look at my crotch I’m horny and desperate and I have a voyeurism kink”, “Kim K called she said she wants her ass back like damn we get it, peach emoji”. You’d get kicked out of stores on a daily basis but who cares.

Isn’t it funny how everything turned sexual and how you mysteriously happened to fuck in the car only to go “want some mcdonald’s? i’m craving some nuggets right now”. 0 to 100 real quick, remember?

You would be impossible to be around. Like you’re just living in your own bubble of secret feelings, unspoken i love yous and this terrifying fear of losing this friendship if you took it to the next step.

i hope this is enough!!!

[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

[artificialqueens]

Homemade Dynamite, 1/?  (Crygi) - Miss Argentina

a/n: Hello everyone! I’m Miss Argentina, and I’m new around these parts! I’m strictly a Crygi writer so far, but I hope to expand upon that! This is a series I’ve been working on, and I’m so happy to share it with all of you! Kisses from Argentina xx

summary: There has to be at least one party that will be engrained into every senior’s mind before they graduate high school. Crystal Methyd is hoping she can make that happen. It’s her chance to be known for something other than ‘Lesbian stoner art kid.’

–

It was the night of all nights. This party would go down in history, and the hostess would do anything if it hadn’t. She wanted to be known, to be remembered as something she wanted. 'Stoner art kid’ wasn’t audibly appealing to her. 'Senior party legend?’ That sounded much better. She wanted every single guest to remember the songs that played, the colors of the lights that shone on their sweaty bodies, the promises they made to each other and broke, the mixed concoctions they downed every other ten minutes- they’d remember it all.

Now, of course, you wouldn’t throw a party to throw a party. You have to have a motivation, and as I’ve previously explained, the hostess wants to be remembered in a positive light. Maybe not with her neighbors, but with the class of 2020.

Who is our lovely hostess, you may ask? Why, it’s none other than the resident lesbian art kid herself, Crystal Methyd. Yes, that was her real last name, and no, she did not engage in consuming meth. She may have smoked a few blunts a week, but hardcore drugs scared the shit out of her. Crystal was only known for three things. And that bothered her. She didn’t want to be confined to a specific microcosm of the senior class, nor did she want to be looked down upon by her fellow classmen, women, and non-gender-conformings. The seniors just thought she was annoying. But Crystal Elizabeth Methyd denied that with her whole being, and had a plethora of evidence and excuses to dethrone these accusations.

Her friends, on the other hand, did not agree at all.

“Crystal, I love you, and I hope you know that, but are you capable of shutting up?” Jackie Cox was never one to be the slightest bit rude. As senior class vice president, she had a reputation to maintain. If she ever wanted to be promoted and have Gigi Goode demoted, she would have to plaster on that fake smile ever damn second of the day. But no one knew Jackie pretended. So of course, her comment made Crystal see herself in a different light. If Jackie out of all people had to point out how annoying she was, then God-knows-what everyone else said about her.

And now, we’re here, at a Wegmans in Missouri. Crystal has two carts full of snacks and drinks, and is accompanied by her friend Heidi, who is currently busy scrolling on her TikTok feed.

“That’ll be 97 dollars and 83 cents,” the cashier rings out, and Crystal opens her wallet and pulls out a 100 dollar bill she stole from her mom’s purse before she left to go to a fancy business conference. Crystal had to admit, she did miss her mom, but she was glad as hell that she was gone. “And here’s your change, have a lovely day!” Crystal bids goodbye to the nice cashier and starts pushing her cart out of the aisle, having to yell at Heidi to start moving.

“Sorry, shitface!” she quips back at Crystal. They exit the Wegmans and load everything into Crystal’s Camry, but the cart starts rolling and almost crashes into someone, but thankfully, Crystal is fast enough to catch the cart.

“I am so sorry,” she quickly apologizes to the stranger. “I should have been paying attention-” she looks up and sees the almost-victim of her untamed cart and sees that it’s no stranger, but instead Gigi Goode, senior class president and director of the costume crew for the school plays and musicals (this year it was Chicago, and let’s just say that it looked more like Burlesque.)

“It’s fine, Cryssie. You’re all good. With an e.” The brunette took any chance she could to make a pun with her name. She was cheesy like that. That made Crystal smile.

–

“Okay. I will ask you this one last time, Gianina. Which boy band is better? Big Time Rush, or One Direction?” the fourteen year old quizzed the brunette in front of her. “Choose the right answer, or you die.”

Gigi smirks at Crystal. She knows that she wants her to say One Direction, but she just likes Big Time Rush so much more. They have a television show! Does Harry Styles or Niall Horan show up on her screen every Tuesday night? Nope. Kendall Schmidt does.

“Oh, oh, ooh, oh…” she sings, revealing her answer immediately to the redhead. Crystal pounces on Gigi, tackling her body with her own, making them fall off of Gigi’s bed. “Crystal, get off!”

“No!” the older girl declares. She begins to tickles Gigi’s sides. “I won’t stop until you say the right choice!”

“Never!” Gigi proclaims, and the tickles don’t hesitate to become more intense, making Gigi howl with laughter, tears in her eyes. It becomes too much, and she knows it’s time for her to throw in the towel. “Fine! One Direction is better!” Crystal is finally delighted with the response, and Gigi is coughing and gasping for air, yet, somehow still laughing through her recovery.

Crystal is still on her knees above her, basking in her achievements. Gigi finally returns back to normal, and Crystal strikes up the conversation again, continuing this time to blab on about the music quality of 1D’s in comparison to BTR’s. Gigi can’t help but stare at the girl above her with lovingness and some form of desire. Crystal’s voice is soothing and something about the sunshine making her tan skin glow, gives Gigi the chills. “Cryssie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I try something?” she asks suddenly. Crystal nods her head slowly but in confusion. “Can I… C-can I kiss you?”

Crystal’s throat may run dry, but she doesn’t hesitate to let out a small “Of course,” before Gigi places her lips on hers, feeling soft and tasting like peaches.

–

Crystal frowns at the memory. Gigi notices the dull expression on her face and is quick to point it out. “Are you okay, Cryssie?” The shorter girl flashes back to reality and clears her throat.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine.” Heidi suddenly starts coughing and Crystal turns her head towards her.

“*Cough* Tell her *Cough* Party,” is all the redhead can make out, but it’s enough for her to whisper shout Heidi her disapproval. “Do it," urges the gap toothed girl.

"Uh, Gigi?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you, uh-” Crystal scratches the back of her neck. “Are you doing anything tonight?”

“No. Why?”

“Well, I’m actually, kind of, sort of having a party. Would you want to-”

“I’ll stop by,” Gigi interjects. “I can spread the word too…”

“That’s awesome!” Crystal says a little too excitedly. She clears her throat and wipes the tip of her nose slyly. “I mean, coolio. All chill with me.” She begjns walking backwards to the car, throwing up a peace sign and almost tripping. “I’m good!” she shouts from a distance, and Gigi giggles.

“Get in the damn car!” Heidi shouts.

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

The Steinbeck Agreement

PART TWENTY-THREE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: discussions of familial physical/emotional abuse please read with caution, serious angst, anxiety about future, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 6K

Summary: Ella makes some major changes in her life, and Jess reluctantly returns to town for his mother’s wedding.

The afternoon light streamed golden through the diner windows as Liz and Luke came in, Ella leaning on the counter with her sketchbook in front of her. Too enveloped in the drawing of a field of murderous daisies, Ella didn’t even register what they were talking about until she heard them mention her name.

“...maybe Ella could do it,” Liz said, tilting her head at the young woman with dark eye makeup and EAT ME printed across her shirt.

“Hm?” Ella asked, looking up from her sketch with furrowed brows.

Luke rolled his eyes at her distracted nature. Ever since she’d moved out of her childhood home, she’d been in a worse mood, focused almost solely on her terrifying drawings. He’d had to tell her a couple times to make sure to keep the sketchbook off the counter when there were children present.

“Be a flower girl,” Liz said, a big, dreamy smile on her face. She was dressed in a long, floral red dress. “Most of the Renaissance fair crowd doesn’t have small children. But if we’re gonna have a wedding, we’re gonna have a real wedding. Can’t be a wedding without a flower girl.”

“Sorry, whose wedding?” Ella asked, straightening up and raising an eyebrow.

“Mine, sweetie.” Liz had a high, wispy voice that reminded Ella of the fairies she used to imagine playing in her mother’s garden. “We’re having it right out in the square next week. It’s gonna be beautiful, all our Renaissance fair friends will be there, and it’ll have this great medieval theme! And you could be the flower girl!”

“Oh, I don’t…” Ella began with a shy smile, but Liz only waved a dismissive hand at her, continuing.

“I can loan you one of my fair dresses,” she said excitedly, not picking up on Ella’s doubtful expression.

“Yeah, Ella. You can finally perfect your whole Bride of Frankenstein look,” Luke teased. His expression was far more pleasant than Ella could have predicted. Happy. Happy, in its simplest form, looked so strange on Luke. The past few months had seen the true finalization of his divorce and his having to watch Lorelai date some rich snob from her father’s company. But the news seemed to brighten his mood inexplicably. She was sure the laughter at her expense wasn’t exactly a drag on the day either.

Rolling her eyes, Ella shot him a pointed glance. “Y’know, you would be lost without your best waitress.”

“I’m quaking in my boots. Besides, I’ve got Lane working for me now, anyway.”

Though she narrowed her eyes at him, she could think of nothing more to say. He was right. She would never quit on him. The diner was more of a home to her than anywhere else in the world. Hell, it had almost single-handedly fed her during the worst few months of her life. Along with Lorelai’s frequent feasts of junk food.

“I can just see it, Ella! It’ll be so much fun and you’d look so beautiful!” Liz exclaimed, grabbing one of Ella’s hands in a pleading gesture.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Ella did her best to protest. She still wasn’t Liz’s biggest fan, despite wherever it was that she stood with Jess. The alcohol, the neglect. But Luke seemed not entirely angry about the match, especially considering his view on TJ when the two had first been introduced back in February. And Liz’s smile was so large, so radiant. Her eyes were desperate and almost kind. Heaving a huge sigh, Ella nodded. Luke was much more than her boss. And he gave a smile so rare when she agreed. She would do it for Luke, she decided. In fact, it was the least she could do.

.   .   .

Sat on the lumpy couch in Lane’s living room, Ella found herself smiling just a touch. The band, finally named Hep Alien, was getting better with every practice. Though the room was piled high with dirty clothes and video game equipment, and it remained cluttered no matter how many times Ella tried to clean it up, she was beginning to get more comfortable. Her king mattress was so old anyway, and sleeping on the plaid couch wasn’t much different. As she had run from the only house she had ever known, she’d packed as much as she could into her station wagon, which had once been her aunt Julie’s. It wasn’t like her old room fit much anyway. Mostly, the backseat was filled with her records, books, clothes.

Loud music making her ears ring, she sketched Lane behind the drums, living the way she had always wanted. As fun as it was watching band practice nearly every night, Ella was eager for her summer classes to start. If she played her cards right, she could graduate a year early with art as a minor. Ella’s mind drifted to the night she left, the day after she finally finished her first year of college. And, over a modest celebratory dinner, the conversation had drifted, as it always did, to the future.

.   .   .

two and a half weeks earlier

Tugging with one hand at the ends of her hair, Ella felt an odd mixture of distasteful nostalgia and happiness in her stomach. The lasagna tasted exactly as her mother’s had, and Ella knew Fiona had followed the recipe, scribbled in the back of the ancient cookbook, exactly. But she would keep quiet. Fiona truly seemed proud of her, beaming and giving her a hug the moment she walked through the door after work. Slowly, very slowly, Ella was beginning to accept it, the motherly love. Though occasionally it still rubbed her the wrong way, it didn’t send her spiralling into anger and melancholy as it once had.

And it wasn’t as though Fiona was a bad person. She had a sunny disposition, glossy hair, expressive eyes. Ella could understand how her father would want to marry her. But she was just too unlike her mother. Would never understand Ella the way her mother had. It still felt like bizarro-world when Fiona tried to give her advice or compliment her on her piano skills. But she could manage dinner every once and a while, and accept pride in her academic accomplishments. She was on the Dean’s List, after all.

Adam pushed his food around his plate as he spoke. From the glances they’d shared, Ella could tell he tasted the same memories from childhood she did.

“We’ve still got about a month, but I really think we can get first place,” Adam said of his mathlete competition. His voice had gotten deeper, and he was finally growing taller. Ella could tell he would end up looking a lot like Noah.

“That’s great,” Jake said, nodding with a half-smile.

“Really is,” Fiona echoed, grinning widely.

As silence fell on the four of them, forks scraped on the Corelle plates and throats were cleared. Awkward silences had quickly become staples of family dinners. Eventually, Jake began twisting his wedding ring and looked straight at Ella, who sat at his left side. The light in the peach kitchen was bright despite the cloudy darkness outside. The May evening was humid and buzzing with cicadas.

“And what about you, Ellie?” Jake asked.

Looking up carefully, Ella put down her fork and faced him. “What about me?”

“Do you have any prospects for the summer? Besides the diner?”

She shook her head. “No. Unless Patty needs me to fill in. Might start painting more. I’m thinking a small easel would fit pretty well near the window in my room.”

Narrowing his eyes doubtfully, Jake tilted his head slightly. “I don’t know. Seems like a waste of money.”

“Why?” she asked instantly.

“We don’t have to discuss this now,” Fiona interjected patiently.

Adam looked down at his plate as he ate.

Jake breathed a frustrated sigh through his nose. “You’re majoring in history. You’re living with us for at least three more years. I don’t think now’s the time for pipe dreams.”

“Hm,” Ella nodded, giving a thin, vicious smile. “It’s funny you say that. When mom was alive, you always thought I should put as much time into my art as she put into her music.”

“You were a kid. Things change. The best you can hope for is being a history teacher at Stars Hollow High, and you have to be happy with it,” Jake explained with cold logic in his voice. His eyebrows were raised in condescension.

Ella’s cheeks heated up. “Oh, so all this time you’ve just been humoring me? Telling me I had talent?”

“Not exactly. But you’re not O’Keefe, either.”

“Never said I was,” Ella snapped, standing up from her seat. “I can't do this right now. I’m buying my fucking paint, dad.”

“Hey!” he shouted, rising from his own seat and following her as she stormed into the living room towards the hall entrance. “Don’t you use that language with me, young lady!”

“Why not?! Might as well let you know how I actually talk if you’re gonna let me know how you actually feel!” she yelled back, gesturing wildly with her hands.

Jake rolled his eyes at his only daughter. “Toughen up, Ellie! You’ve only got so much time on this earth and I’m not gonna watch you waste it on your doodles!”

“Oh, and lecturing about the revolutionary war in the town where I’ve always lived wouldn’t be a waste?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“At least you’ll make a living! You’ll still be around people who love you, who take care of you. You’ll always be near us,” he argued.

Ella let out a bitter, humorless bark of laughter. “People who take care of me?! I’ve been taking care of you for almost five years! All of you! Especially you! When mom died, I was the one who fed us, I was the one who cleaned and tried to cook! And you did fuck-all except drink and lie around crying!”

Eyes darkening, Jake took a step closer to her and she immediately recoiled. “I lost my wife. You will never understand that!”

“I lost my mother!” she screamed, hands clenched at her sides, so hard her knuckles turned white. Angry tears snuck up on her eyes but she swallowed them back to the best of her ability.

“If I’d have known how much you’d bitch about helping out, doing what a daughter should, I never would’ve let you take that job at Luke’s!”

“Doing what a daughter should?” she asked immediately, eyebrows shooting up. Her jaw was set firm with tension.

Fiona appeared from the kitchen behind her husband, putting a hand to his shoulder. “Baby, let’s just all take a minute to cool down.”

“You brother and I needed you and all you could do was complain!” he roared.

Ella scoffed. “You needed me? You needed me to keep you alive long enough for you to find a new wife to coddle you and baby you and cry with you when you told her about your tragic high school sweetheart! Why do you think she hates you, huh?”

Her stomach did a flip when she saw the hurt on Fiona’s face from the corner of her eye, but a fire burned so hot inside her, and she couldn’t keep her words contained any longer. She’d tried to play the dutiful woman of the house long enough.

“Do not talk about my marriage!” Jake warned. “It’s none of your business!”

“Of course it’s my business! It’ll be my business when I have to pick up the pieces once she leaves you!”

“You have always been such a little brat! You were a nightmare to raise for me and for Sophia!” A vein had popped out in his forehead, and he shrugged Fiona’s touch from his shoulder.

“Fuck you!”

Crack! Ella seemed to hear it before she felt it: a sharp, searing pain as his open palm struck her cheek. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in so long, not since she was ten and had mouthed off at the dinner table. A sinking feeling struck her stomach as silence filled the room. Because she suddenly discovered she had always been expecting it. Always knew it would happen again, someday, somehow. And she’d been almost surprised he hadn’t smacked her in the months following her mother’s death. But, the levee had to break. It always did.

She brought a hand to her stinging flesh, and her father stopped in his tracks. Remorse washed over his features and he went to reach out for her. Flinching away from him, Ella felt her fingers grip at her necklace.

“Ellie, I’m so sorry, baby. I told you not to use that language with me. And you know how my old man was about-”

“No,” she said softly, shaking her head. “No.”

.   .   .

The final, strong bass note of the White Stripes song Hep Alien played broke her from her memories. She could see the dull sky as she packed up her car the best she could, the night crossing over into morning as she offered Adam a quick goodbye. He’d been upset, but also somewhat calm. And when he’d come to visit her a week later during one of her shifts at the diner, he told her he had always known Ella would leave. From the first night after their mother had died, he’d known. Though he knew it was fruitless to try and convince her not to feel guilty, Adam had told her not to worry. He could handle home on his own, he was confident. He’d never been slapped. And they were both smart enough to understand why.

And when she’d come to Lane in the early hours of the morning, still painfully holding back her tears with the entire contents of her life parked out on the street in the station wagon, she knew everything would change. Lane had welcomed her with open arms, of course. Had seen Ella cry for only the third time in all their years knowing each other. There was something so sweet about her new freedom, but a heaviness still sat in Ella’s heart. Constant guilt and fear for Adam, heartache over her mother, who she still missed everyday. And she felt so lost, it was all-consuming. She didn’t know what the next step was. Would she still be able to pay for college? Would she ever speak to her stepmother again? Would she even stay a history major, if she was lucky enough to continue her education? She had never been more glad for Luke’s, and for her friends. There were few comforts in her life, continued existence as a waitress, or knowing Adam was only a few blocks away in case something ever happened. She clung to the only constants left for dear life. She’d been dreaming of leaving the house for so long, but it managed to be even harder than she thought it would be. A gloomy cloud had been hanging over her for a few weeks, as she walked through her existence with an aimlessness she had never known before.

Clapping some, Ella offered a big smile and watched as Zach, Gil, and Bryan began to talk amongst themselves about the new tattoo Gil had shown up to practice with. Lane excused herself from the conversation only because of the temptation. She wanted a tattoo, really did, but didn’t want to increase the chances of her mother disowning her any more than she already had. Instead, she came to join Ella on the couch, plopping down and putting an arm around her friend. Ella kept her smile and rested her head against Lane’s shoulder. Since moving in, Ella was reminded every day of what a wonderful person Lane was. They came from such different worlds, but never judged each other, always took care of each other, helped each other with their respective escapes. Working together at Luke’s had been even more fun than Ella could have ever imagined. It was a welcome end to the long, lonely year after Jess’s departure, just she and Luke sulking around together. There was a place for sulking, but the time for it seemed to be coming to an end.

“You guys were fucking great,” Ella said, then gestured down to the picture she had just drawn. “You’re a regular Meg White up there. Really.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Lane chirped, beaming with pride.

Snorting a laugh, Ella put the sketchbook aside and bit back a yawn. “Don’t I know it.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Lane asked, brows furrowing.

It almost made her want to laugh. Over the past two weeks, Lane had asked her that question more than had once seemed humanly possible. “Yeah, Lane. I’m fine. Just a long day. Got roped into being a flower girl.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Luke’s sister. Liz. Have you met her before? You weren’t working at the diner yet the last time she was in town,” she said tiredly.

“No, I haven’t,” Lane replied. “Jess’s mom, right?”

“She is indeed.”

“And why exactly are you filling what is traditionally a role for a girl in pigtails and Mary Janes?”

Blowing out a sigh, Ella shook her head slightly. “I don’t even know. She just sort of told me...didn’t exactly ask. It’s next week in town square, so there’s not enough time. And Luke really seemed like he wanted me to and I just...I don’t know. Maybe she’s a witch.”

“Always a possibility,” Lane nodded, going along with the bit as she always did. “And have you heard from Jess lately?”

Again, Ella shook her head. “He still doesn’t have an actual phone number, and now I don’t either. Not optimum communication conditions.”

“Yeah, that’s not ideal,” Lane said, commiserating.

“I wish it had crossed my mind, but I moved out in about forty-five minutes,” Ella said, fiddling with her necklace.

A guilty look painted her features. But she’d only been out of the house a little while, maybe he hadn’t called.

“Do you think he’ll come for the wedding?”

Ella scoffed. “Not a chance in hell.”

.   .   .

“Are you sure I can’t help with anything else?” Ella asked, arms crossed over her chest.

Her chewed pencil sat behind her ear, and her hair fell in a loose, hasty braid over her shoulder. One of her booted feet tapped constantly against the tiled floor, and she smoothed over her blue skirt every few minutes. And she only looked half as stressed as Luke. The wedding was in two days, and nearly everything had been dumped on him. As a consequence, Ella had been dealing with the diner business while Luke argued on the phone with vendors who could give him the proper medieval food and decor.

The midday lull had finally come, and Lorelai stopping in was sure to bring a little sunshine. Though she had been pretty overwhelmed herself, lately. The new Dragonfly Inn opening was only weeks away.

Luke shook his head at Ella when he’d finished giving Lorelai the rundown of the week’s events. “Not right now, kid. That was the last call I had to make. At least for the time being.”

“Just say the word,” Ella shrugged, finally letting herself relax a touch, leaning her forearms onto the counter.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So, am I caught up on everything, then?” Lorelai chimed in, brows raised and eyes expectant.

“Yeah, I’d say so…” Luke began, but the bell over the door jingled.

A familiar scowl appeared in the diner’s entrance, and Jess trudged up to the counter with a finger pointed at Luke. “I’m not paying for a motel, so I’m stayin’ with you!”

Lorelai gasped dramatically and narrowed her eyes at Luke. “Liar!”

As he passed on his way to the stairs, Jess gave Ella a curt nod. She reciprocated, but felt unnerved by his demeanor. Was it shy? Was it angry? It certainly didn’t seem pleasant. They hadn’t spoken in nearly three weeks, the longest time since he had first run away to California.

“I didn’t think he was coming,” Luke muttered, watching Jess disappear up the stairs. A wistful, fond smile crossed Luke’s lips. “I went to see him in New York.”

“You did?” Ella asked, brows furrowed.

“Yeah. It was a total pig sty and he may or may not be a drug dealer. But, hey, at least he came,” Luke said, shaking his head in a mixture of amusement and wonder.

Sighing through her nose, Ella looked down at her feet and bit at the inside of her cheek. Her gaze focused on nothing in particular, thoughts swimming around and colliding with each other inside her already crowded mind. “Yeah. At least. I’m gonna take my ten minutes. That alright?”

Luke was busy, back to his banter with Lorelai, and only gave a half nod her way. She snickered at how enveloped in each other the two of them were. Without much effort, she slipped behind the curtain and climbed up the stairs unnoticed. Nerves coursed through her, and her heart sped up in her chest. She gave two short, harsh knocks on the window of the shabby apartment door.

After waiting a moment and receiving no response, she rolled her eyes to herself. Who was she to be nervous? He was pretty much her best friend, besides Lane. And she hadn’t done anything wrong. With a new, determined quality to her steps, she walked through the front door and found him just where she expected, on his old bed, nose already buried in a book.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she plastered on a confident smirk and sat down on the end of the bed. She recognized the book instantly, her own copy buried in the pile of belongings in her car: Sweet Thursday by John Steinbeck.

“The only author we could ever agree on,” she said, eyeing the book though Jess still hadn’t lifted his head.

“Pretty much,” he replied flatly, biting at his bottom lip as he focused on the words in front of him.

Sighing shortly through her nose, Ella turned to face him fully, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the familiar brown afghan. Jess unconsciously brought his feet in closer to make room for her, his knees up in the air, blocking her view of his face slightly. But she could see his hair, longer still and without any gel.

“See you’ve completely ditched the pompadour look,” she muttered. “Couldn’t handle being mistaken for an Elvis impersonator any longer, huh?”

“My God, you should do stand-up,” Jess said dryly, eyes widening in feigned amazement as he kept reading.

Shaking her head slightly, Ella let a harsh chuckle escape her lips and furrowed her brows at him. “Out with it, jackass.”

“Hm?” he asked dismissively, taking a pencil from his pocket to underline a phrase.

Ella pursed her lips in frustration. “Well, it’s obvious you’re pissed. I say we skip the passive-aggressive theatrics and you just spill it. But, hey, this is a democracy. You also get a vote.”

Rolling his eyes, Jess finally shot a glance over his knees. Heaving a sigh, he shut his book and tossed it into the open duffel bag on the floor next to the bed. In one swift movement, he mirrored her sitting position and tilted his head at her in askance.

“Have you been doing a lot of hard partying lately? Really taking advantage of this college thing? Or have you been avoiding my calls?” he asked, though he wasn’t angry, despite the sarcasm. There was a defeated tone in his voice which surprised her; almost disappointed.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she gave another small shake of her head, and she spoke firmly. “Well, first of all, I’m not required to take your calls. I asked you to call me because you fucked off to California without telling me and I wanted to make sure you hadn’t been serial-killed.”

Jess gave a begrudging nod, almost preparing for a dressing down.

“But, no, I haven’t been avoiding your calls, alright? Paranoid much?”

He scoffed, but she cut him off before he could retort.

“I moved out.”

Immediately, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You did?”

She nodded. “Yeah. About two weeks ago. Wasn’t exactly seamless, and I bet my dad will disconnect my old line at some point. I’ve been staying at Lane’s with her and the band. They don’t have a phone yet. And you change your number pretty much every week, so it’s not like I could let you know.”

A smile crossed his features. “I’m...that’s great, Eleanor.”

She snorted a laugh of disbelief. “Yeah, it’s so great living out of my car and sleeping on Lane’s forty-year-old couch.”

Jess shrugged. “Gotta start somewhere.”

“I guess.”

He looked flabbergasted. “I’m so proud of you.”

A blush heated her cheeks and she chuckled breathily in confusion. “What?”

“For moving out. I mean, I can’t imagine it was a quiet affair,” he said, face falling slightly.

Again, she shook her head, glancing down at the space between them on the comforter and clutching her necklace. “No. It wasn’t.”

“What happened?” he ventured without hesitation, searching her face and exposed arms for any yellowed bruises or healing cuts. Sometimes, he could give even Ella a run for her money when assuming the worst.

Ella shrugged noncommittally, throwing a glance down at her watch, then facing him again with a small smile. “Long story. I’ve only got a couple minutes left on break. You gonna be in town for a little while?”

“Until the minute the wedding ends.”

“Okay, we’ll find some time to catch up,” she said, smirking. “Luke tells me you’re a drug dealer now. You’ve gotta let me in on all your behind-the-scenes Scarface facts.”

Jess rolled his eyes. “God, Luke is such a drama queen. I’m a messenger.”

“Nice cover. Very convincing.”

“Don’t you have coffee to pour?” he shot back, defensive.

Snickering, Ella rose from the bed, smoothing down her skirt and apron. “Whatever keeps the guilt at bay, tough guy.”

“G’bye,” he muttered, grumpy, as he settled back against the wall and picked up his book again. But, just before Ella reached the door: “What time are you off, Eleanor?”

“Six-thirty. Luke’s closing up early to play wedding planner,” she said, hand poised over the doorknob.

Jess chuckled. “Pizza at Antonioli’s tonight?”

“Sure. I even promise not to wear a wire.”

The pillow Jess had thrown barely missed her as she exited the apartment, laughing under her breath.

.   .   .

Sighing softly, Ella ran the key along the chain of her necklace and looked down at the half-eaten pizza crusts on her paper plate. The old wooden table in the pizza place was slightly sticky, and carved with the names of various people and couples who had shared a pie there before. But, they could watch the Stars Hollow evening turn from golden to blue as the sun went down, sitting by the front window. Jess had to leave by eight, and it was half past seven by the time the stars came out. Summer had almost come, and the days were long and bright with sunshine. Chilly breezes swept past at night, but it was getting warmer still.

“So...yeah. It only took me about forty-five minutes to pack everything up. Didn’t realize how little stuff I had until I could fit almost everything in my trunk and back seat,” she said, a small, humorless smile on her face.

Jess nodded, rolling a balled-up napkin absently in his hand as he listened, his face stony. “Was it just yelling? Or did he hit you?”

Breathing another long sigh through her nose, Ella bit the inside of her cheek. “Just once. He just slapped me once. He told me not to swear at him, but I-”

“Eleanor,” he interjected, voice firm but gentle. “Once is way too much. Even a slap. It’s way, way too many times.”

She only shrugged. “I know. I mean, of course I know that. It’s just…”

Again, he nodded wordlessly. Jess knew what it was like to have a parent, or a step-parent, who used hurt as a tool. And he knew the confusion. Sometimes monsters wore masks. She didn’t have to say anything more.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Ella shook her head. “It’s not your fault. And I’m moved out now, Jess.”

“Right...and I meant what I said. I’m so proud of you, Stevens.” Jess reached hesitantly across the table, and took her free hand in his. Gave it one squeeze.

She flashed him a tiny smile, squeezed it back. Then she disentangled their fingers and tucked her hair behind her ears, clearing her throat and straightening her back. The severity left her features, a new, mischievous twinkle lighting up her hazel eyes. Her chest was less heavy, and she was glad he knew. Glad he could understand with so few words.

“Proud of you too, Mariano. This time, I didn’t have to watch you step out of a sheriff’s car when you got to town,” she smirked, picking up one of the crusts and taking another bite out of it.

He frowned. “Ugh, please don’t mention Andy Griffith. That car is my property. The only reason I even called Luke after I got to Venice was to ask about the car and he-”

Still chuckling, Ella raised her hands in surrender, cutting him off. “White flag.”

Jess offered a sardonic, lop-sided smirk. “And, believe or not, Luke will be the sanest person at the bachelor party tonight.”

“Why are you even going?” she asked, brows furrowed as she took a sip of her water, ice melty from time and the May heat seeping through the splintered wood of the front door.

Shaking his head, Jess glanced down at his watch and noticed he had only ten minutes before he and Luke would have to hop in Luke’s ancient green truck. “I don’t know. Luke mentioned me not wanting to go to Liz, and then she spent thirty minutes babbling until she finally wore me down.”

Pursing her lips, Ella nodded. “Yeah, she’s very persuasive.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re looking at the flower girl,” she admitted, gesturing to herself.

He laughed breathily. “No way.”

“Yep. I’ll be there in the renaissance dress and all. Though, Lorelai said she would make some alterations for me. I’m going over to her house in a little while to sort out the whole corset situation.”

Jess snorted another chuckle. “Good luck.”

“Right back at ya, Mariano,” she teased. “Where on earth would TJ want to go for his bachelor party?”

“It’s a cliché I’m sure you’ll be able to guess on the first try,” Jess said with a dejected frown.

After only a moment with brows furrowed, realization flashed across Ella’s eyes and her expression turned to one of disgust. “Ugh, Jesus. A strip club?”

“I know,” he grumbled. “Believe me, I’ll be there in silent protest.”

“Mouth off to one of the owners if you get the chance, would you? For me?” she asked.

“Will do.”

.   .   .

“I don’t hate my mother,” Jess grumbled to Luke, rolling his eyes slightly.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, crossing his leather-clad arms. Maybe he should’ve known he would get into a fight with TJ at some point, considering his history with Liz’s past boyfriends and husbands. All it had taken was TJ hitting the Austen novel out of his hands, as he read begrudgingly in the low-lit strip club. And they’d come to blows. And Luke was pissed. They were sat down at a table in Luke’s, the diner completely dark glowing only from the streetlamps and twinkle lights in the square. All the chairs, save for the two they sat in, were stacked up on the red tables. Luke was interrogating Jess about why he’d come for the wedding anyway, if he was so mad about it. As if he hadn’t stormed into Jess’s apartment trying to convince him to come only a few days earlier.

“You don’t?” Luke asked, eyebrows raised in expectation. “Then why did you come, anyway, if you’re so against your mother finding happiness? And it’s pretty clear you hate me.”

Jess sighed heavily at Luke’s dramatics. “I don’t hate you. I came here because of you.”

“Stop that,” Luke scolded in disbelief.

“You said it was important to you. Remember?” Jess asked, voice tight with annoyance.

“I didn’t think you were listening.”

“Oh, I was listening.”

Luke stared at his nephew for a long moment, leaning back in his chair. “So, you don’t hate your mom. You don’t hate me. But, really, all it took was me coming to New York to yell at you?”

Sighing, Jess said nothing. His lips were set in a thin line, and he averted his gaze from his uncle. He ran a hand over his mouth.

Eyes widening, Luke cracked a knowing grin. “You came because of Ella? But, you haven’t been together in...what? A year?”

Jess gave a sheepish nod. “Yeah, but, we still talk every couple weeks. She didn’t tell you?”

Luke snorted. “Well, I remember her chewing you out that first time you called. Telling you to let her know you were alive. But I didn’t know you were really talking.”

Running a hand over his mouth again, Jess gave another nod.

“So?” Luke asked, prodding. “Why’d you need to come here...if you call so often anyway?”

Jess bit at his bottom lip, squirming under the questions. “Since she moved out, she hasn’t been picking up. I didn’t know what happened. I wanted to...make sure. Because…”

“What?”

“I think...I mean...I’m in love with her, alright?” Jess spit out, an anxious bite in his voice.

Luke’s eyebrows shot up, and a flabbergasted look formed on his face. “Wow!...You think you’re in love with her?”

Jess shrugged. “Pretty sure. But, I’ve been thinking that since I was seventeen. And she doesn’t believe in love, anyway.”

Scoffing, Luke shook his head. “I know she says that, but it’s crap. What do you love about her, Jess?”

“Excuse me?” Jess asked, brows furrowing.

Luke rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Jess, I think it’s great that you know how you feel. And like I said earlier, I’m not gonna keep trying to change you. You are who you are. And Ella is who she is. If you’re gonna tell her how you feel, you have to do it carefully. And you have to be sure. So, tell me what you love about her.”

Scowling, Jess looked long and hard at his uncle. “What, do you wanna hold hands and skip afterwards?”

“Do you want to do this right or not?”

Finally, Jess relented. “Okay. Fine. I love that she...she’s so passionate. About everything. And she talks with her hands. And she eats peanut butter right out of the jar when she’s sick. And she hums while she works, without even realizing it. She..she cares so much about her friends and her brothers and her aunt and...I don’t know. She does everything for other people. She doesn’t think she’s a people person. But she really is. Even the way she talks to customers...you can really see it.

“And she’s such an amazing artist. She can feel art. And music. I’ve never met anyone else like that before. I can talk to her for hours...or not say anything at all. I miss her when she’s gone. Everything is...just better when I’m with her.”

When Jess looked up again, he found his uncle with a smug smirk. As Jess was speaking, his eyes had taken on a far-off quality. And though he didn’t want to be talking, his lips had started to curl upward at the corners anyway. Just from thinking of her. Luke recognized everything in Jess’s expression.

Jess shook his head slightly, jaw tense, embarrassment swirling in his stomach. “What?”

“Nothing,” Luke said lightly, almost mocking. “I’ve just...never seen that look on your face before.”

Rolling his eyes again, Jess scoffed angrily.

“Alright, alright,” Luke said, fighting off good-natured laughter. “Open two-way communication is the foundation of love…”

[jjkpls]

Rose (m)

> genre : fluff, light smut

> pairing : park jimin x reader (f)

> total words : 2k

> warnings/content : established relationship, light gender bending

> summary : Y/N wants to practise her make-up skills and her boyfriend volunteers. She comes down to a curious realization, she really likes him with it.

You’re blushing as you stare at him and your tiny work on him. Tiny because no matter how much time and effort you’d spend on his face, you wouldn’t add much to what’s already here. The art is his face, bare and natural, craved so curiously, with those bold sketches and lovely shades.

You’re blushing because it’s indecent. He’s not indecent. He’s anything but indecent right now, looking so sweet and innocent with that pretty peach blush on his cheekbones and on the tip of his nose; with the soft glittery gold you traced on his eyelids, complimenting his dark eyes, bringing them an intensity and hypnotic quality you’ve never found before in anyone. He looks pretty. Like a girl would. All rosy and sugary, soft and sweet, quite far from the tough-guy look boys usually aim for. 

What’s indecent is how you feel about it, about him. You don’t remember ever wanting him that bad. Feeling that aroused, a yearning that bad for his touch, for his harsh fingers and his cock. The only reason you’re not indulging in it is that you don’t understand those urges and you’re worried you’d scare him. Which is ridiculous, honestly. Jimin is not simply ‘not the kind’, he would simply not treat someone with disdain, express pure rejection for someone’s likings simply because they’re unusual or don’t match his. And he’s your boyfriend. Your loving and understanding and open-minded boyfriend. He’s not going to flee away. It’s just about you. How embarrassed you are about the new discovery on yourself.

As the realization downs on you, you slap yourself across the head mentally and lean in already, about to kiss him. He’s just staring back, awaiting for you. The blush has extended to the apple of his cheeks, where you haven’t put any makeup and you wonder what he feels shy about. Maybe he can sense how much you want him. Or perhaps, and you hope it’s that one, he’s realized how pretty he looks all dolled up like that. 

You don’t kiss him yet. Even when his eyelids flutter closed and his hand squeeze your thigh pressingly. He looks so inviting. He always does, however right now more than usual. But his mouth, his delicious lips, slightly open, waiting for you to bite on the thick flesh and suck on it and simply cherish it the way you generously do on the daily -because his mouth is the nicest thing you’ve ever given to taste, his lips always feel so nice between your own, between your teeth, under your tongue and he tastes heavenly each time you wrap your lips around his long tongue to suck on it as if it has anything to be milked from- you want to, no, you need to do something else with that mouth of his before kissing it. 

Grabbing your makeup bag to bring it between you two, you start rummaging through it. You’re not one to wear that much makeup -hence you wanting to try some technics and looks on your boyfriend before splattering it on your face and go out, parading around looking like a mess for everyone to see- and don’t own that many products either. But lipsticks have always been a favourite of yours. Fairly easy to apply, quick and effective, you could easily go for weeks without a full face of makeup but you would hardly walk out without a hint of tint on your lips. Therefore you have a bunch of them. All shades of red and pink and burgundy and peach. All lovely shades you want to try on him. It’s hard to pick. Feels like a terrible dilemma you can't solve. You don't want to mess up what you have facing you with a poor choice that would ruin the harmony, the softness, the perfection that he is. You don't want to spoil it. He could easily turn vulgar or ridiculous and you dread the idea. Fetching two different tubes, you uncap them up and roll the makeup out to show them to Jimin. 

“Which one do you want?” He first gives you a curious look. One that transpires how confused he is for you asking him to make the decision. He’s doing this for you and doesn’t feel like he has an opinion right now. But he sees your pleading eyes, the nervous worry on your bottom lip and he decides to make an effort for you. When his beautiful gold and brown eyes set down on the two lipsticks, he takes his time. You can tell he is thinking about it, seriously, and the idea that he too wishes to look the prettier spreads a new wave of heat to your head. You’re feeling giddy just watching him pondering over the choice. After an excruciatingly long time, the hand not holding your thigh rises from his lap to take between his ring-covered fingers one of the tubes. It’s the darkest from the two, deep pink with gentle red undertones. 

“I think that one.” He whispers so quietly. It then hits you. The tension. You felt your body and mind filled with it for so long but you haven’t imagined he would feel it too. Yet he does. Since the beginning, when you just finished wiping the soft brush on his second cheek and the colour, coming out so wonderful on his sun-kissed skin, has shocked you and rendered you speechless. You haven’t talked much since then, so entranced in your work and the astonishment and the admiration and -you have to admit- arousal. You haven’t even picked up on the fact that he, also, hasn’t been any kind of talkative. 

You put the unchosen lipstick back in your bag, secretly hoping that you’ll get to try it on him another time because it’s a shame if the nicest shade of ruby never ends up on the nicest pair of lips to ever have been moulded. 

Smearing some of the tinted cream onto your pointer's fingertip, you turn back to him, enchanted to not have to demand him to open his mouth for you to apply for he’s already prepared for it. You're not sticking the lipstick directly into it, nor using a brush. It’s not that you’re worried about hygiene, quite the contrary, you just want to press your finger on his lips, feel directly as you minutely tap the pigment on the pillowy heavens. 

The room is so hot. Your cheeks, your whole body, to the tip of your finger touching his mouth. Everything burns as you diligently dress up his mouth, struggling to breath when his lightly dry lips stick to your finger and gets moved and dragged a bit to then fall back into place when you leave the skin to reach for more product. It moulds so endearingly under the passage of your finger. This feels somehow like the most intimate and sexiest thing you have ever done with him, or anyone for that matter -even though you've had his dick in your mouth too many times to count. 

His dick in your mouth. That’s precisely what you need. Him gasping for air, ravishingly-decorated lips falling open, shaping around profanities he could hardly mutter. Some of the black mascara running a bit under his eyes. Shit.

Once you’re done, he rolls his lips together, smacking them a bit as you watch, mesmerized. He chose perfectly. The tint, darker than his natural very light pink, compliments his tone and the whole makeup, brings a new shine to his luscious lips, making them more kissable than ever -and this, you’ve never thought possible.

“What do you think?” He asks, not sounding doubtful or embarrassed. Curious is the precise word. 

“You look so pretty, Jiminie.” That makes him chuckle, his boyish squeaky laughter that always manages to steal a fond smile from you. He’s a bit abashed now, you gather from the way he ducks his head forward to avoid your heated gaze. 

When he leans back up, he challenges you, “Then kiss me.” You bend forward, enough to place a soft kiss on his pout, gentle as can be, not wanting to mess up the lipstick. It doesn’t resemble you, nor him, to kiss like that and Jimin, almost bitter, points it out. 

“I don’t want to mess it up.” 

“Is it that good?” He wonders out loud and you nod eagerly, eyebrows high from how inappropriate the question just sounds to you when you can see him, right in front of you, looking the way he does. You remember then that since you’ve started he’s hasn’t gotten a glimpse of his face and has no idea what he actually looks like.

You grab portable mirror before he even tries to aim for it, pressing it to your chest by fear of him taking it from you. You don’t want him to look. You don’t want him to spoil it all with a reaction you would wish different, with something, anything, that could disrupt and diffuse the tantalizing tension. He looks mildly annoyed when he looks up at you, probably because he knows it’s just a waste of time: he will get it once he asks for it, he’s not really one to get denied anything and you’ve always been the worst at saying no to him. Indeed when his hand opens up, falling forward between you two for you to place the mirror on, you do just that, forgetting all about your little rebellion and even most of your apprehension, Que sera, sera anyway. 

Jimin takes it with both hands, placing it in front of his face as he looks, before he sends a hand through his hair, mating it poorly backwards, exposing his forehead further. You wish you had a flower right now. A rose, bloody red, that you could stick behind his ear. God, would he look exquisite. 

He observes thoroughly in the mirror. His pretty eyes a bit wide from the surprise, you suppose. Even if it’s tiny. Infiniticim compared to the surprise you feel. You were anxious, a nerve wreck at the idea of showing him what he looked like, not wanting him to miss what you see, not appreciate the way you do. You imagined him to burst out in either genuine or awkward laughter, trying to deal with an image of himself he would find ludicrous. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t laugh, just spare a tiny smile he catches back when his eyes are seized by it and by the coloured lips and he pouts slightly to see better and then relaxes his lips, letting them rest slightly parted, the edge of his endearing crooked front teeth glimpsing in between. He looks so sinful when he does that. And with the fucking makeup. He’s Devil sent. 

“You like it?”

“I do.” He starts, moving his face a bit and twisting it to the side to try and see the eye makeup better. “I wouldn’t wear it outside but I could wear it for you.” He says, attention leaving his reflection to set on you. His words sound soft but his gaze is predatory as he peers into you, seeming like he’s trying to expose you for what he just learned about you. His hand grabs yours, the cold and hard steel of his rings digging uncomfortably as he brings it to his mouth. He kisses the plump of your fingertips, watching you watching him -you’ve just met back with the incredible sight of his cheek, the skin is so ethereal, abnormally poreless, so soft looking, with the discreet, gentle shimmer of peach caressing it, you feel like crying- before he bites teasingly on it through his smirk.

a/n : a little something different. it came to me in a dream because jimin is just too pretty. tell me whatever! kisses & love!

[kingsten]

Thuong. ( @cir for Peter.6 times Peter doesn’t finish his meal but one time he does. ) word prompt. “To love tenderly— a deep and sincere notion of fondness and care between family members, friends, or lovers.” 

1— CAFE DES DEUX MOULINS, PARIS— NOON “Here you are, toasts, champignons et oeufs pochés. Tell me, how was my pronunciation this time? Better?” Brian makes light conversation with a smile while he gives Peter time to clear space on the table in front of himself in order to set down the plate. Peter isn’t his most talkative regular but if there’s one thing Brian is self confident in, it’s his ability to outwait another person and abundance of patience when it comes to working towards getting them to open up to him. It’s amusing to him, cute even the way Peter likes to elude his numerous attempts at small talk and yet he keeps coming back, and as long as he’s in his usual booth at 11:16 AM then so will new questions await him. 

“Nothing to correct.... much better than yesterday.” Peter’s voice is quiet in contrast but his words makes Brian grin widely, and with satisfied look on his face he moves on to attend to the other customers. Later, when he returns to collect the dishes and payment his expression shifts to something akin to a mix of displeasure and confusion. He begins to clear the table, pausing when he picks up the half eaten plate of food.  

“What?” Peter sips on his drink, eying Brian who is hesitant to speak. 

“Was the food not to your liking because if it was overcooked or something then I can get the chef to remake the order...” After a moment’s silence and a gesture to the kitchen Brian adds, “I can even get you something else. No extra charge.” Peter shakes his head then rests his chin in his hand. He looks at Brian in a way that makes him feel a tiny bit shy, like he can read him or knows some secret to the universe that Brian isn’t in on but replies with a simple. “It was nice, Brian. I liked it.” 

Brian wants to ask then why did you only eat half and why is it that every day, no matter what he orders all the meal receive the same treatment even though Peter supposedly likes the food. When Peter begins to pack up, he lets it go and takes the plate away.

2— RUE MONTORGUEIL, PARIS— MORNING They’re friends now. Well, in Brian’s way of thinking he considers Peter a close friend of his. However, he couldn’t possibly say if the feeling is mutual but Peter doesn’t complain as much as he used to before whenever Brian would show up unannounced, invite himself over to his place or drag Peter to some new destination. It’s a good sign that they’re making progress in their friendship. Even though in reality Peter let’s him do whatever he wants and just goes along for the ride.

So what is today’s adventure? Tackling Rue Montorgueil in pursuit of fresh produce and other groceries. Another advantage of having Peter around is his ability to haggle with venders that try to sell Brian overprice fruits, and veggies. It’s a skill that Brian. with admiration, watches as an exchange happens between Peter and a vender who insists his prices are fair. It’s almost an art the way Peter shakes his head, maintains his position and argues until the price is brought down to a reasonable price. He’s so good at it that Jae made it an unofficial rule in the house that Brian isn’t allowed to do any of the weekly shopping unless Peter is with him. 

And it’s a rule that Brian is more than happy to abide by.

So, with fruits and vegetables in one bag and various cheeses, crackers, and cuts of meat and fish in the other Brian talks idly to Peter while on their walk home. Eating a peach, he chats about a number of topics such as the fact he likes Kate’s idea of starting an herb garden in the kitchen window sill but is dismayed to find out from Peter that Jae has a habit of killing every green thing he touches. The air is crisp. It’s somewhere between fall leaning towards winter where a long sleeve will suffice or a light jacket. It’s a pleasant walk home.

Peter has a peach too that he’s taken a bite out of but otherwise just holds it. And this does not escape Brian’s attention but he figures it’s because they’re actually talking, as in really talking. He says something and Peter does more than listen: He replies back, he laughs, he pouts, but most important is that he opens up and shows off his personality little by little. And Brian loves it — though he credits this change to Jae who acts more like Peter’s older brother than he does his cousin. The two bicker all the time, it’s funny the way they both seem to go out of their way to annoy one another. 

“Do you have cousins you’re close to?” Peter asks, rebalancing the bag he’s carrying with one hand. Brian blinks, surprised by the change in direction to him and his own family. He shakes his head slowly. 

“No. Actually I’m jealous of you and Jae.” Brian shrugs, as he tosses the pit into a trash can they pass. “All my cousins are either in South Korea or scattered amongst various parts of the US and Canada. I think I even have an aunt in New Zealand if I remember correctly— do you not like the peach?” Brian stops when he catches Peter hovering over a trash can posed to toss his peach but hands it over when Brian holds out his hand. 

“We bought loads of stuff. Crackers, plums, erm.... hmm grapes?” And Brian wonders maybe Peter likes snacks that don’t require much commitment such as berries or nuts. Something he can pick at and eat in small doses but Peter declines everything he offers, even the bread which makes Brian narrow his eyes in a quizzical way. “You don’t eat much.” He comments to which Peter laughs and replies with “I’m still full off breakfast.” 

Brian bites into the peach and nods, thoroughly unconvinced by that statement. “Uh-huh.” He saw what Peter was picking at that morning when he came by to pick him up. Needless to say, he was not impressed. “Oatmeal... is very filling.” Brian gives Peter a once over then returns to walking in silence until his phone rings. It’s Angelina, calling to ask where they are because she wants to know if the money she pitched in for groceries was all spent.

3— TAXI CAB, PARIS— NIGHT “I’m sorry. I, I’m sorry. You’re so nice. I’m sorry.” Peter slurs, drunkenly pushing away from Brian to wipe at his eyes with the sleeves on the back of his hand almost like a child that is scared of receiving a lecture. Brian is a bit tipsy himself but nowhere near the same level as Peter who he suspects was drunk after the first glass of wine.

Regardless, he defiantly was slammed by the third glass which makes Brian feel a tiny bit bad. It was his brilliant idea to bring Peter to a wine tasting party but when he tries to articulate that maybe he should’ve just asked Kate instead or even went alone with Jae he’s cut off by having to grab Peter to keep him from losing his balance all together when they get into the cab. Jae laughs, not worried in the least and pats the top of the car. “Get him home safe, Bri.” he says, then shuts the door for them. And Brian waves as him and the girls. The minute the taxi pulls away from the curb Peter clings to him and stays like that the duration of the ride to his apartment. 

Brian doesn’t mind and basks in the proximity, knowing Peter would never grant him such a luxury sober. And it’s nice, even though Brian keeps his hands to himself, awkwardly kept tucked in his lap. He can feel the steady raise and fall of his chest and how warm Peter’s breath is against his neck. Peter hugs him closer and the only coherent train of thought Brian can form is that he’s so glad he picked tonight to wear a hoodie rather than the usual denim jacket. The hoodie’s material is soft enough for Peter to fall asleep on without discomfort. The softness of his hair tickles Brian’s cheek and he can smell his shampoo or conditioner, perhaps aftershave? A combination of all three more than likely. Whatever it is that he uses, it’s nice.

“I’m sorry.” Peter half awake and half asleep slurs again, surprising Brian. The words are muffled but heated against Brian’s neck and it makes him swallow deep but thankfully the taxi pulls to a gentle stop outside Peter’s apartment. Brian moves, putting his hands on Peter’s shoulder to pushes him to sit up just enough to look him in the eye. “It’s my fault. I should’ve made you eat something before.” He reassures, smiling but feeling a little sad that the moment is over but at least he has the memory of being this close to hold onto. “Come on, let’s get you inside and put you to bed.”

4— BRIAN AND PETER’S FIRST APARTMENT, US— SOMETIME AROUND BRUNCH Brian leans against the countertop: blonde hair a mess, shirtless as he takes a bite out of a  carrot stick. Peter is quiet (he usually is after just waking up) as he preps food. Brian observes him in silence and though he enjoys the sight of his boyfriend wearing nothing but his t-shirt which fits big on him and falls to thighs he can’t help but wonder... where on earth did Peter learn to cook like this?

This is where Brian makes the connection that perhaps this is why Peter never seems to finish his food. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have much experience in the kitchen. A weird concept to Brian given in his family food is an expression of love and he wonders if Peter’s mom ever cut up fruit for him or took special care to pack him lunches she cooked that morning before he was even awake like Brian’s mom used to— he continues to chew thoughtfully when Peter starts chopping green onion, slowly and carefully and it’s just not efficient but it’s more amusing than anything. 

“Ok, here, let me.” Brian finally intervenes when Peter starts to peel the garlic. He gets off the counter and moves to stand behind him and takes the clove from Peter’s fingers and uses the kitchen knife to cut off the tip then uses the flat side to crush it flat against the cutting board. It detaches from the peel fairly easily after that but Brian figures he’s already here and goes ahead and minces the garlic then sets the knife aside. “Show off.” Peter murmurs, complaining that Brian should cook instead but Brian shakes his head and snakes his arms around Peter’s middle to hold him close and the only help he contributes after that is by cooing over how cute Peter is when he cooks. 

5— MARINA GREEN PARK, SAN FRANSISCO— AFTERNOON "You.” Brian points at Peter with his fork then at the several boxes of food between them, “do not eat nearly enough.” Even though Brian’s face is blank, eyes hidden and obscured behind a pair of dark sunglasses there’s an unmistakable edge to his voice, throwing a quick glance at the food. All of which Peter had picked out, and all of which Peter is now ignoring and it’s slightly irritating to Brian today.

“And you...” Peter picks at his jacket— well, technically Brian’s since Peter doesn’t make a habit of wearing jean jackets but he gets cold easily and even in San Francisco on a sunny day such as this it gets a bit chilly the nearer you are to the sea. Peter is not interested in starting a fight but also not one to sit back and allow Brian to accuse him much less, talk to him with that tone of voice without retaliation finishes his response with a warning tone of voice. One that advises his boyfriend to drop the subject: “You always say that.”    

“Yeah well, I always mean it too.” Brian bites back, uncapping a bottle of water and downing half its contents.

Ok, so the food they’ve been eating while on tour isn’t five star gourmet and he should be thankful that today they get to eat in the park, in fresh air on a blanket on a nice day but his cabin fever has become a state of mind. What’s making him irritable is the fact that he’s bored of San Francisco. The first three days the band played at a local festival was fun in it’s own way. Jae and the rest of the band enjoyed it. Brian thought the music was too poppy or daft-punkish for his liking but there were a few indie acts that were bearable. And the four days after that were nice, getting to sleep in a real bed and eat something green and not takeout or fast food for once was a treat but it’s been two weeks, going on three now and he’s ready to move on. Though he’s certain Peter feels the opposite.

“Here.” 

Brian is pulled from his thoughts and turns to see Peter is holding out a chocolate covered strawberry to him. Immediately, he feels guilty about his outburst earlier but rather than accept the peace offering and apologize he shakes his head and resumes his sulking. Peter scoots closer and tries again, evidently annoyed too but adds. “Who doesn’t finish their food now?” Which is a dig enough to make Brian give him a look that is lost behind dark shades, and he tries to grab the strawberry. Peter is quick to hold it out of his reach with a stern “No.” 

Brian blinks, confused then it clicks what Peter wants. He rolls his eyes then opens his mouth and allows him to feed it to him. After he takes a bite Peter eats one too and they sit in silence, chewing until their moods lift a little and Peter is the one to break the silence. “I think. I understand you better now.” He says, feeding Brian another strawberry. 

“Oh?” Brian asks, starting to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand until Peter hands him a napkin. Peter flicks a crumb of chocolate off his pants then says, “You use food as a way to take care of people.” Brian stops chewing and it makes sense when he thinks about it but before he can add a comment of his own. Peter continues. “And I think that’s why it bothers you that I don’t finish my meals.”  

 Later, when Brain thinks about it in more and even dares to ask Jae for his two cents on the idea. Jae confirms Peter’s idea. 

“Yeah man. It’s sort of how you communicate that you care. Words like ‘have you eaten?’ or ‘finish your food.’ I think it’s like, your way of saying I love you.

6— TOM’S APARTMENT, LA— NIGHT Brian gestures for Peter to come closer which Peter, who is mad at him, bluntly ignores and shows complete disinterest in whatever Brian is planning. Instead, he stays seated on his side of Joonmyun’s coffee table and watches the tv. There’s some Star Wars movie playing, or maybe one its series. Brian laughs from the other side then gestures again. “Babe, come here. Please? I have something for you.”

Peter remains firmly planted right where he is, chewing on the plastic of his fork rather than eat from the half-empty takeout box in front of him but he’s at least acknowledging Brian now as he regards him with newfound interest. Curious and very much skeptical about what he could possibly have since he’s empty handed and unless he’s hiding another plane ticket under his shirt or in the thin pockets of his pants Peter’s at a complete loss as to what he has or is planning.

“Please?”

Peter rolls his eyes before he puts the fork down and scoots to sit close enough so that their knees are touching and his eyes search Brian’s. Mostly skeptical but Brian leans in to steal a small kiss which makes him freeze at first but it’s been a long time since they last kissed. Peter sighs, and slowly allows himself to kiss back. It’s not hard to allow himself to melt, it’s familiar and he’s missed this but just as they’re building a steady momentum it’s over just like that.

Peter clearly expects another and his eyes remain shut and his head tilted for a moment or two even after Brian pulls away. When he does open his eyes, Brian is already back to eating his own food.

“Is that it?” Peter’s voice is slightly raised along with his brows.

“If you finish your food then I’ll kiss you some more.” Brian says casually before shoving a large amount of food into his mouth that if it were anyone else it would be considered a choking hazard.

Peter lets out a tsk of disbelief, butterflies still in his stomach yet ready to argue. Brian, after he swallows, cuts him off with a curt “but only if you finish.” then smiles when Peter rolls his eyes and pouts. It doesn’t take long for Brian to finish then he starts to clear away his trash and tosses it into the trashcan in the kitchen but Peter remains seated by the coffee table and pokes around his takeout with a pout. Bey, Mikoto’s corgi is seated next to him and watches him eat in small bites with pleading eyes. It’s not a bad idea... he could just give the rest to the dog and Peter almost considers caving in but Brian comes back, takes a seat next to them and picks Bey up and watches tv.

Sulking, Peter takes another bite then offers the rest to Brian as he usually does. Old habits die hard but Brian shakes his head and pushes the box away with two fingers. “Technically that’s cheating.” Brian murmurs, scrunching his nose at Peter as he turns away from the tv to look at him. It’s weird not knowing exactly where they are in terms of relationships and if he even has the right to call him boyfriend or if Peter even likes him anymore because sometimes he can feel so distant and impossible to read but they both know one thing is for sure when Brian says, “Finish your food, babe.” 

Peter hides a small smile then he picks up the takeout box, and finishes his food.

[justanotherwannabeclassic]

prompt # 4: long distance relationship

for @distant-rose

prompt 4: long distance relationship

Bekka didn’t tell him how long she would be gone. 

Did that make her a bad girlfriend? She wasn’t good at the whole serious relationship thing. The last time she tried, it imploded in her face. Would this be the same? No, said the fierce voice in her mind, the one she barely recognized anymore, the one that had been in hiding since Sinister ripped her open and tore her apart. Matt loved her. He told her that he understood her need to go back home to New Orleans. He promised that he’d be waiting with her with open arms whenever she returned. 

“Distance doesn’t mean that I’m not yours, Becks. I’ve been waiting so long for you, what’s a thousand miles?”

What was a thousand miles? It meant no late night dance sessions as they swayed to the music of Billie Holiday. It meant that she couldn’t stir him from sleep to taste her new muffin recipe. It meant no lazy kisses or passionate nights twisted around each other in bed. She wouldn’t fall asleep to the sound of--

“No, not that. I’ll call you every night, if you want. I’m fine with that,” was what he said in response to that before kissing away the doubt curling around her heart. They’d be okay.

.

The past few months had been hell for her family, nightmare after nightmare, their worst fears almost come to life. Almost. Almost. Almost. They were all alive, which is more than other families can say. They were all alive, but bruised and broken -- Bekka with her peach fuzz hair and surgery, Irene with her chest cracked open and the surgery scars, and finally Olivier, who had disappeared into his own head and down a bottle to deal with the weight of it all.

It was partially why she was heading back home. After her kidnapping, and the mission gone awry that had lost Olivier six members of his team and landed Irene on the operating table, she sensed her family needed her. Irene was already down there, curling in on herself as she healed from the trauma. Olivier stayed in New York. He had the school and the team, El and a ring burning a hole in his pocket. He didn’t need them. 

But Irene needed her, and perhaps, Bekka needed Irene. Bekka knew the strength in wrapping herself in the stability and love of family. It was, in many ways, how she survived her first horror with Sinister. The second go around, she’s allowed Matt to shoulder some of her pain. Still did, even if he was miles and miles away. Irene didn’t have that. The failed missions cracked open her chest and exposed her insides in more ways than one, and she’d been forced to do what none of her siblings could fathom. She’d buried a friend. 

Irene needed Bekka and the comfort of family more than Bekka needed the strength of Matt’s arms around her. 

.

This was the breakdown of the LeBeau siblings:

Olivier was the oldest and acted as such. He was the one who shouldered the responsibility of the family, even when no one asked him to, even when he shouldn’t. 

Bekka was the oldest daughter, the second child. The less she dwelled on herself in comparison to the others, the better. Everyone called her pretty. Olivier called her reckless. Sylvie and Luke called her fun. Irene just rolled her eyes. 

Irene was the typical middle child, and she acted as such, lashing out this way and that until she got what she wanted -- not that Bekka ever really cared to find out.

Luke thrived in chaos, fitting considering how he came into the world. He tested boundaries, then retested them. He thrived with potential with none of the ambition to harness it. 

Sylvie was the youngest and sweetest of them all. If she didn’t resemble them all, Bekka would have sworn she was adopted.

“My Royal Flush,” her father would say. It was both silly and perfect. It was her family.

.

Bekka wasn’t always the best sister to Irene. 

She loved her fiercely. She would kill for Irene, and would die for her. But for much of growing up, that was where Bekka’s kindness ended. They were sisters, close enough in age to know how to press each other's buttons, but not far apart for Bekka to have the maturity to know when to ignore. 

Their personalities clashed something fierce. Bekka mirrored her mutations, explosive and bright, demanding attention regardless of whether you wanted to grant it. Irene was quiet, introverted, muted like her white, white hair, and envious too. Bekka was pretty. Bekka could pass as normal and disappear into the crowd. Irene, their father’s red eyes and white hair, had no chance in hell. And Bekka, too caught up in her own sense of superiority and desire to define herself hadn’t let her forget it. 

After all, there was some truth when they said teenage girls were a certain kind of cruel.

She ought to apologize for some of that, but those sort of words weren’t her strong suit. El would know what to say, El her soon-to-be sister, the one who always reminded Bekka that time with your family. But El and Bekka were barely on speaking terms nowadays, something that tapped at the fragility of Bekka’s heart. El didn’t approve of what Bekka was doing with Matt. El didn’t approve of a lot of what Bekka was doing these days. It was confusing and fraught, because El was her best friend. Bekka tried to talk to Wendy, the team therapist and empath, about the whole thing, but Wendy had only reminded Bekka that El was probably stressed managing Olivier’s downward spiral. As for her situation with Matt, “She was friends with Matthew long before you came into the picture, and she’d discouraged you from pursuing him in the past. Maybe that should tell you something.”

Maybe Wendy was right, but Bekka wasn’t willing to focus on that. She had too much on her plate to navigate the complexities of her friendship with Eleanor Rogers; instead, she turned inward and focused on her sister by blood, the sister who had nearly bled out on the battlefield and again on the table. 

She’d almost lost her younger sister. She wasn’t about to blow that chance.

.

The thing about being an utter nightmare of an older sister meant that Irene was as skittish as a colt when it came to Bekka’s affections.

“I’m not dead. You don’t have to be so nice,” Irene told her one afternoon, after Bekka offered to bake her favorite cookies. 

“I want to be nice.”

“Yeah, right.” Did Irene have any right to believe her?

“You’re trying and you’re there. That’s what counts,” Matt assured her. Matt was an only child. The closest thing he had to sisters were Kass and El, and he didn’t meet either until he was an adult. He didn’t -- couldn’t -- understand the minefield she was navigating. She still thanked him for trying.

Because of her own traumas, and there were many, Bekka was a bit of an insomniac. Matt was too, which after many late nights conversing in the DOL headquarters kitchen, was how they became friends. 

Irene was young. Irene still tried to sleep. From the stillness of her own bedroom, Bekka could hear her sister tossing and turning, crying out too for Chrissy. Bekka was not Chrissy, but she could still provide support. She slid through the dark and crawled into bed with Irene, and allowed her to shed her tears against her chest.

They didn’t speak about it in the morning.

.

Time spent at home in the garden district of New Orleans was a startling change of pace from New York.

Bekka hadn’t realized how much she’d grown accustomed to the ambient noises of a thriving city and the speedy efficiency of the North. Still, she relished in the comfort of Southern hospitality and accents that mimicked her own. 

She especially enjoyed spending time with her family. New York kept her busy with the Daughters of Liberty and friends, filming baking videos with Marty, spending late nights with Matt, and curling up on El and her brother’s couch during one of El’s many patented movie nights. Those times were nice, and she missed them, but time spent with Sylvie, her parents, and even Irene filled a void she never realized existed.

She spent afternoons learning proper motorcycle maintenance from her mother. She created art with Sylvie and listened as her littlest sister spoke about her dreams. She trained and played cards with her father, and spent countless hours in the kitchen as a reward as they made their favorite meals.

“I’m glad you’re home, p’tite,” he father told her one such night as they hovered over jambalaya. 

She considered his words. Trauma and fear brought her here, and she missed her people in New York terribly, but… “I’m happy to be home, too.”

.

She kept up with her baking, only this time without Matt by her side or Marty providing commentary for their video series. Even without them, baking was his refuge, the perfect task for clearing her mind and allowing creativity to take hold. Sylvie made requests and her parents supplied her with ingredients. 

After a week, Irene even wandered in to watch her work. 

“I’m hopeless with baking,” her sister admitted as she studied Bekka's latest batch of chocolate muffins. 

“Nobody’s hopeless,” Bekka replied. “I can help teach you, if you’d like.” She thought of Matt and the early days of their friendship. “I’ve been told I’m a good teacher.”

Irene shook her head. “I’d rather not.” Rejection. Or not. “But I can watch?”

“Of course you can.” How could Bekka say no?

.

Baking was not the answer to bonding with Irene, not entirely. Nor were the late nights holding each other and crying in bed. The answer was art and ink, the flowers in Momma’s garden, and the pictures of Olivier hanging in the living room. 

The answer was a tattoo.It was something Irene mentioned off-hand, how she wanted something to cover the scars and a memorial to those she had lost that fateful date. 

“That’s a beautiful idea. I’ve always wanted a tattoo,” Bekka admitted. She felt like porcelain on the inside, ready to crack at any moment, but her skill was hard as steel. “I’ve always been envious of Oli and his ink.”

Irene studied her carefully before offering an olive branch. “I can help with that.”

Olivier’s mutation could suck the souls and psyches of a person with the touch of his skin. Bekka could manipulate kinetic energy to create explosions and had nigh-invulnerable skin. Irene could negate all of that. “You’d do that?”

Irene shrugged. “Sure.”

From there they researched artists and designs. Irene wanted poppies on her chest. Keeping with the theme, Bekka chose Magnolia flowers for her design. She refrained from telling Matt. There was something precious about having this experience solely with Irene. As much as she cared for him, she needed this moment with her sister, and Irene needed it as well. They held hands as the needle pierced them and beauty was painted on their skin. 

No one could take that from them.

“What do you think?” she asked Matt after it was finished, once it could not no longer keep it a secret. She adjusted her phone so he could better see the magnolias curling around her thigh.

“Different. I’m going to have to get used to it, but it’s absolutely beautiful.”

“Irene and I got them together. Just her and me.”

She watched Matt smile from over a thousand miles away. “I’m glad you can share that.”

.

“Who’s that you keep talkin’ to all hours of the day and night? And don’t say no one, because I’m your Momma, and you’re too old for those kind of lies.” 

She hadn’t told her parents about Matt. Not because she wanted to hide him, but because she wanted to navigate the newness of it all before inviting too many people in. El’s skepticism clanged around in the back of her mind, making her timid to announce the good news; but, Bekka knew she couldn’t hide Matt forever, nor did she want to. 

That realization shook her to the core, because there was a non-small part of her who wanted to shout it from the rooftops. This was a first for her, a previous kind of thing that she hadn’t felt for anyone else. Not like this. 

She couldn’t hide the blush coloring her cheeks when she made her confession, “Matt. We’re kind of together now.”

Bekka waited for the penny to drop quite like it had with El. Instead, she watched a smile bloom across her mother’s face. “Are you now?”

“Yeah. Just for a couple of months now, but we’re together.”

“Are you happy, Sug?”

“Very,” Bekka said without thinking. “He makes me very happy.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Her mother pulled Bekka into a hug and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “That’s all I ever wanted you to be.”

“I told my Momma about us,” Bekka said over the phone that night. 

“How’s that go?” Matt usually excelled at hiding his feelings, but he couldn’t ramp down the nervousness in his voice.

“Good. She’s happy for us. She likes you.”

“That’s great.” A beat. “I’m glad you told her about us.”

“You’re important to me. I want people to know that. I need people to know that.”

“You’re also important to me. More than you realize.”

.

Bekka found it telling who contacted her during her sabbatical in New Orleans.

Marty was a reliable comfort with his constant streams of texts and pictures.

TJ, her cousin, checked in and reported on the goings-on of the X-Men and Xavier Institute. The DOL chat remained lively, and her teammates made sure to keep Bekka abreast of team development and drama. Meredith Pryde-Rasputin had even managed to pull herself from the foxhole of her grief to check in. Meredith had buried her sister, whereas Bekka could hold hers through the pain of it. Bekka doubted she would have the same strength. 

Luke, ensconced away safely at Xaviers, mostly bitched about Olivier and classes. El remained quiet, a rare text here or there. Olivier never messaged her at all. Bekka tried not to let that get to her. She mostly failed.

Matt kept his promise as well as he could. With his job, there were times when he was whisked away by the demands of being a secret agent overruled his own desires. He made sure to tell her when he would be disappearing, even if she didn’t know for how long. He’d call her the first moment he was free, and that was enough. 

.

She should have known that it would be a mission that brought her home. The universe wouldn’t allow her to make that sort of choice out of her own volition. She was a superhero, that was the way the world worked for people like her. No rest for the wicked or the divine. 

Matt played the messenger. “We need you back, Bekka,” Matt said, his voice telling her everything and nothing at all. He wouldn’t call her home, not unless it was an emergency and they’d explored all other contingencies. “It’s El. She’s in serious danger, and Olivier isn’t… It’s bad, Bekka, we need you as backup. I can’t tell you what’s going on until you get here, but...we need you, and I think you’d want to be here too.”

El, her supposed best friend. El, who belonged to Matt long before Bekka ever had a chance to lay claim. El, who her brother wanted to marry. El, her almost -- no, no almost about it -- her sister. Not by blood, but in the other ways that mattered. They might not be in the best space -- an angry, raw, confusing space -- but Bekka didn’t turn her back on family. Not to mention, Olivier needed her too. “I’m in.”

“Good. We’ll send Nocturne to you.”  They never sent TJ for travel assistance unless the situation was totally dire. “I’m sorry you’re coming back to this.”

“I’m a big girl, Matt. I can handle it.” She had to be.

“She’ll be there in ten. See you soon.” The line died.

She had just enough time to give a rushed half-explanation to her parents. She watched as the color drained from their faces at the mention of Olivier before she disappeared to find her uniform. As she dressed, she overheard them calling their people. Her parents might be retired, but they were still well-connected. She had barely gotten dressed by the time she heard the familiar crack of TJ’s arrival. 

Bekka was just about to go to her when she heard her name, and saw Irene rushing to her. Irene pulled her into a hug, nice yet unfamiliar. “Be safe,” she said, “and take care of Oli.” 

“I will.”

She emerged from her room to see TJ talked to her parents in low voices, “...keep Stark from blowing them all out of the sky…” before they noticed her. Something like relief washed over her face when she saw Bekka.

“It’s really you, thank God.” She reached out her hand. “Come on, we need to go. I’ll give answers when we get there.” 

Bekka said goodbye to her parents and cast one last look over her shoulder to Irene before TJ pulled her through space and time all the way back to New York City. 

Matt was waiting for her when she, woozy and disoriented, appeared. 

“You’re home,” he breathed. 

She nodded in confirmation. “I am.”

[stardusttrashed]

Football Coach Part 19

Previous Part

Pairing: Calum x Reader

Word Count 1584

Warning: NSFW, pure smut 

Calum hummed quietly as he rubbed circles into your thigh, “what are you thinking about, Peach?” He slowly dragged his tongue across his bottom lip before tucking it back into its place. “You’ve been awfully quiet over there, eh.”  

“You,” you admitted in a hushed yet confident voice. You discretely reached over, cupping his semi hard on. “You’re all I can think about,” you continued as palmed him ever so gently, applying enough pressure for him to feel but avoiding the amount he clearly craved. He let out a shaky breath as his grip tightened on the steering wheel, using all of his strength not to fall to pieces under your touch.

“Y/n we’re almost home,” he said in a warning tone even though his hand crept higher on your thigh. His calloused fingers lightly trailed up your thigh, resting on your soaked panties. You bit back a soft moan as he cupped your heat. “Is my little peach so needy that she forgot my promise?”

You massaged his bulge as he pushed your panties aside, his calloused fingers teasing her tight soaked entrance. Carefully he eased two fingers inside of you, you slick wall taking him generously. He let out a throaty groan at the feeling of you clenching around his fingers, waiting for you to relax before building up a teasing pace. Your hips involuntarily moved against his slow-paced fingers, looking for any kind of friction you could get. Every curl of his fingers and brush against your g-spot had transformed you into putty. “Fuck me,” you gasped as he pushed in another finger before curling them, tapping against your g-spot. Your chest heaved up and down as you bit down onto your lower lip. He knew exactly where to hit to drive you wild. And this wasn’t even all of him.

“Oh, I definitely plan on it. I’ll fuck you on every surface in my place before the night is over if you let me,” Calum growled lowly. He pulled his fingers out, denying you of your oncoming orgasm. You watched with a quiet whimper as he put them in his mouth one by one, groaning at the taste as he licked each one clean. “Damn you’re absolutely scrumptious.” Without another word, he pushed two fingers back into you at an unforgiving pace. “Cum for me Peach.”

Your body lurched forward at his sudden movements. “Cal, fuck,” you gasped as your hands scrambled to grab onto something Anything.  Before they finally rested on the door. A wave of euphoria washed over you as you pressed your head against the headrest, your lips forming an almost perfect ‘o’. You hadn’t even noticed the car come to a stop, too engulfed by the pleasure Calum caused you. It had only come to your attention once he’d stepped out the car and quickly picked you up.

“I’m gonna worship every bit of your body tonight,” Calum groaned as he nipped at your neck, effortlessly carrying you to his apartment.

“Less talking, more fucking. I want you in every way possible.”

He gently laid you down onto his bed, the cool sheets against your thighs making your body stiffen for a second. He slowly dragged his shirt up your body before pulling it off of you. The soft grazes of his fingers tracing your curves making you feel delicate. His eyes burned your body as he raked it, taking in everything as if this were his last chance. It was almost like he looked past every layer of yourself until he could bathe in the glow of your soul. In the warmth that you always managed to radiate to him even in the first moments of meeting each other.

“I love you,” Calum mumbled repeatedly as he peppered kisses all across your torso. He pulled your panties off as he continued to paint you with kisses, tossing the fabric onto the floor. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been looking forward to this.”

You cupped his jaw in your hand, his stubble tickling your palm ever so slightly as you guided his gaze towards yours. “Then show me. We have all night,” you smiled cooly. “Just lay all of your love on me.”

“Only if you stop quoting Abba,” Calum chuckled and he crawled on top of you. He leaned down slowly, allowing his nose to brush against yours before planting a kiss onto your lips. Time seems to stop as it nearly always did. His grabby hands distracting you from the loving way his lips moved against yours. Which in turn brought you back to relishing the feeling of the sloppy yet soft kisses. It was an endless cycle that drove your mind into a frenzy. He was simply intoxicating.

“Promise me you’ll stop me if it becomes uncomfortable or anything,” he said in an asking tone, making sure you knew you being comfortable was his number one priority.

You slipped your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. Your eyes never left his gentle rusty bronze eyes as you pressed his knuckles up against your lips, “I promise. Listen, this is what I’ve wanted since I met you. I have no idea why it took us this long to get to this.”

“Well, they always say good things come to those who wait,” Calum chuckled, leaning down to peck your lips.

With his eyes trained on you, he lined up with your entrance and carefully pushed in inch by inch until he’d completely bottomed out. He let out an almost surprised sounding moan. His free hand quickly found its way to your hip, holding you close and steady to prevent him from cumming right then and there. You felt like absolute heaven to him in every sense.

Watching your body arch towards him was like art. The way your jaw fell slack as you adjusted to his size. The soft moan that wasn’t really sure you were aware you had released. Your smooth hand that squeezed his slightly before you relaxed. “So fucking gorgeous,” Calum whispered, sucking on your neck as he rolled his hips. “And all mine.” He pulled out completely before thrusting back in, a guttural groan escaping his lips.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a playlist going Hood,” you teased before moaning once more.

“Oh, I definitely have a playlist. Just for you,” he admitted with a chuckle. “ ‘Ve had it since our second date. Always had a feeling you were the one,” Calum panted as he rested his forehead on yours.

You giggled softly, holding back a gasp, “well don’t hold back on me now.” You quickly stopped Calum as he attempted to pull out to grab his phone, hugging his hips with your leg. “Stay. You can reach from here mister,” you cooed, dragging your lip up his neck to his jaw.

“You're going to be the death of me Y/n.” Calum reset himself as Simple Things (Remix) flowed from his speakers, taking your other hand in his. “Better,” he asked with a cocky smirk that doubled in size with your shy nod. His hips moved to the beat, thrusting back into you with every snap of the song.

“I love you entirely, utterly, and truly,” Calum moaned into your ear as his thrusts became sloppy- finding a pace of his own.

You pulled him closer using your legs, your bodies somehow still not close enough to your liking. You took the opportunity to run your hand over his body as he let go of your hand and placed it back on your hip. His fingers dug into your hip, guiding you back to him as you got lost in the river of his muscles. Every ripple in his back and arms. His smooth broad shoulders. The cool metal of his rings pressed against your hip. He was as much yours as you were his. Every inch of his golden skin, tatted and bare, was on full display for you. You dug your nails into his back as the oh so familiar knot formed in your stomach.

“Cal, I’m close,” you closed your eyes, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it peach. Fall apart for me. I’ve got you,” he reassured you before kissing you once again, his words being the last little push you needed to get over the edge. The way you clenched around his was unbearable, you slick noises almost drowning out the music. It didn’t take long for Calum to follow suit, attempting to pull out only for you to stop him.

You smiled encouragingly, “I want every bit of you Calum Thomas Hood.” You sucked gently on his sweet spot before whispering in a sultry tone, copying his previous words, “Fall for me daddy.” And with those simple words, he did. His warm shots coated your insides, filling you more than you thought possible.

“Hope you aren’t too worn out yet love,” Calum said teasingly once you both had caught your breaths. His hips still lazily thrust into you as if it were second nature.

“You’re not getting out of your promise that easy babe. You said you could fuck me on every surface and I can’t help but be curious.” You failed to control the shit-eating grin forming on your lips. “We’re not stopping until you’ve done that or made me squirt.”

Calum returned your grin as he lifted you off the bed, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, “challenge accepted peach.”

[avengerscompound]

My Love,

My Love, - A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count:  3349

Warnings:  Fluff with a side of angst

Synopsis:   Steve writes you a letter every time he goes on a mission. They usually arrive after he gets back.

A/N:  For my #Happy Steve Bingo Fill: Letters

I really hate being away from you so long.  That’s the nature of the job I guess.  At least it takes me to interesting places.

France is nice.  Definitely prettier than the first time I was here.  Not too surprising really.

Even with the mission, Tony keeps splurging on things.  Paris definitely knows how to do opulent.  I try and imagine what it would be like if I went back in time and told myself that my life would turn out like this and all I can think is I’d have tried to fight myself for being a liar.  Size difference and all.

The food here is good.  Rich but you don’t eat much of it.  Sam ordered a cappuccino which is an Italian drink.  Bucky thought it was hilarious when the waitress rolled her eyes and then charged him tourist prices.

I’m hoping we can see the Louvre before we leave but I doubt we’ll have time.  I’ll try and wrap up as quickly as I can though.  I do like art.  It would be nice to see it.

If not, maybe I can bring you some time?  Just for a vacation.  There’s a bridge where lovers engrave their initials on a lock and lock it to the railing.  We could do that together.

I miss you, With love, Steve

I got your letter a week after you got back.  I still feel the need to write to you though because that has by far been the cutest thing you’ve ever done.  Who stops mid-mission to go to a post office?

I would, however, love to go to France with you.  Thank you for the tip about cappuccinos.  Knowing me I’ll screw something up though.  You’ll have to do all the ordering.  Just remember I’ll want to eat all the cheese.

I know you didn’t make it to the Louvre so we will make sure we go together.  There is nothing I like more than seeing you being all artistic.  Maybe they’ll inspire you.

I missed you like crazy too.  I’m so glad you’re home. XXXOOO

London is dreary.  It’s been raining almost constantly since we got here.  That kind of rain that almost just hangs in the air and soaks you to the bone.

Even though it’s changed, being here reminds me of Peggy.

I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.  I miss her.  It’s good to remember her and us.

Is it bad to be talking about a lost-love with a new one?  I’m sorry if that stepped over a line.

Sam won’t stop doing a bad English accent when he talks to locals.  I swear if he says ‘cheerio gov'na’ to one more person he’s going to get decked.  Bucky has been finding it extremely funny though.  I mean his accent is terrible.

Clint is obsessed with English breakfasts.  None of the rest of us understand it at all.  I mean, it comes with beans in tomato sauce and blood pudding that’s usually like rubbery disks.  He can’t get enough of it though and even though it’s eggs, bacon, beans, sausage, blood pudding, and toast, he still goes back for seconds every time.

We haven’t done much sightseeing this time.  I’ll buy you something really cheesy.

Love you and see you soon, Steve

Oh my god, I love you so much do you know that?  You are such a dork but so sweet I don’t even know what to do with you.  This time your letter arrived two days after you.  Kudos to the postal service.

You did come home with a bear dressed as a Queen’s Guard and stories of the Tower of London so lucky you got some sightseeing time.

Of course, you can talk to me about Peggy.  She was much more than an ex to you.  She was a first love and a lost life.  That’s important.  I love you and I don’t want you to hide important things from me just because you’re worried about petty things like jealousy.

I’m glad Sam was able to keep Bucky entertained.  I heard that accent, it was equal parts bad and hilarious.

I kind of want to try an English Breakfast now is that weird?  Or maybe I just want to see it. We’ll have to go together sometime too.  Also, let’s get fish and chips.  That’s a thing right?

I don’t think you understand how much I love you.

With all my heart XXXOOO

The middle of nowhere Serbia has nothing worth noting.  It’s cold and empty and it brings back bad memories.  No one is happy.  I don’t get cold easily but I hate it when I am and right now I am cold to my very bones.

Bucky has shut down almost completely.  He barely says anything to anyone.  Not even Sam or Clint are able to make him crack a smile.  I hope this is over soon.

I miss you.  I miss you like crazy.  I miss talking to you.  I miss holding you.  I miss how your lips feel against mine.  How mine feel against the rest of you.  I want to hold you and taste you and make love to you and instead I’m stuck here in the cold remembering what it’s like to die.

I love you.  Please don’t forget that. Steve

You can have whatever you need.  I’m right here.

I always like visiting China.  We don’t really get to come here often enough.  Even if it is for work.  Beijing is such an interesting city.  These temples that are older than Thor just alongside these wonders of modern architecture.

Also, everyone drives like maniacs.  I’m glad we have Clint to drive because I took a cab one time and thought for sure that was going to be the day I died.  And as you know, I don’t think those thoughts very often.

Natasha and Bucky speak fluent Mandarin and I think Bucky keeps saying shit about Sam to the locals because they keep giving him the weirdest looks anytime they speak to Bucky.  He won’t tell me what he’s saying though.

There’s a street food you can buy that’s like a savory pancake with an egg fried into it and some kind of crunchy thing that I’m not even sure what it is.  It tastes amazing though.  It has a spicy sauce that I can handle.  I’ve bought so many since I got here.

There is a fashion trend where people were little plastic flowers or leaves that look like they’re growing straight out of a person’s head.  Wanda loves it and bought herself a daisy.  She looks very cute wearing it.

We get stopped on the street a lot.  I’m glad we aren’t doing spy work because there is no way we’d be going unnoticed.  I will say I won’t miss the fact I get to have a small amount of anonymity back in New York.

I bought you a packet of Oreos with green and pink cream.  I think they’re peach and grape.  Only Clint was brave enough to taste them and he didn’t seem impressed.  And hot fish soup flavored chips.

Miss you.  This might be on the list of places we go.  What do you think? Steve

Man, this trip was a long one.  I miss you like crazy and I’m actually posting this to you before your even home.  Maybe it will be waiting for you before you get back.

At least it sounds like you’re having a good time.  I’m going to bug the hell out of Bucky to find out what he was saying about Sam.

I’m interested to see what the treats you’ve bought me are like.  Scared.  But interested.  I hope you buy me one of those head plants too.  They sound cute.  I definitely want to see Wanda wearing hers.

I hope you’re home soon.  I try not to, but I do worry when you’re gone.  I know you say it’s okay and normal.  And I know logically that that’s true, but I feel guilty about it.  Like you will then worry about me worrying about you.

Miss you so much.  I hope you’re ready for an embarrassing amount of PDA when your back.

XXXOOO

Austria is another country I think.  God, the buildings in Vienna are beautiful.

Tony is splurging again and I can’t even blame him.  It’s just one of those places.  A honeymoon place if you know what I mean?

When you order coffee here they serve it on a silver tray with a glass of water and a silver spoon.  Even places like McDonald’s serve it like that.   Clint says it’s about time he was treated like royalty because of his addiction.

The food is usually very heavy and meat is a big part of it but there’s always the lightest salad served on the side and the cakes here are amazing.

There are are some huge museums here in really old buildings.  I’d like to go see them.  Lots of art galleries too.  Gustav Klimt is from Vienna and his art features on a lot of banners around the city.  I would love to see it in person.

I’m surprised by how many people here dye their hair vibrant colors.  I mean I know it happens everywhere but I’ve never seen it in so commonly done.  Mostly young people in their late teens/early twenties but also lots of people of all ages.  Bucky said I should dye my hair so they fit in better and I kid you not an hour later Clint showed up with lavender hair saying he’s never going back to natural.

I miss you and love you.  I should be home soon. Steve

A honeymoon type place huh?  I see…

I got this letter a week after you got home.  Clint’s hair had already mostly washed out and I wish I had seen it so badly.  If you wanted to dye your hair I’d be okay with it.  As long as it wasn’t red, white, and blue.

I will definitely go to Vienna with you just for the cake and coffee experience.  If we have time I guess we can see some art too.

All my love XXXOOO

New Zealand is beautiful.  We’ve been traveling around with this one and in many ways, it reminds me of England in that it’s so green and it has been raining a lot.  But there’s something more … primal and … raw about it?  I guess those are the right words.  The mountains are huge and there’s a lot of volcanic activity.  Thor seems almost more alive here than I’ve ever seen him.

There is a lot of talk about Hobbiton and the Lord of the Rings around here.  Like that’s the thing you do in New Zealand.  I’d like to see it.  I read the Hobbit when it was released though I haven’t read the others or seen the movies.  They all came out while I was still on the ice.  Another thing to add to the list I guess.  That thing is getting longer and longer and I don’t seem to be making much of a dent in it.

The birds here are all very interesting.  I haven’t seen most of the really rare ones, although some government officials have organized to let us meet a kiwi once all the official work things are taken care of.

They call corner stores here dairies and Sam can’t stop laughing about it.  Oh also, one time we needed a cooler to store some… things… and the guy we bought it off called it a chilly bin.  Only with the accent, it sounded like chully bun and Sam didn’t stop laughing for a good hour after we left the store.   And then just randomly Bucky would say chully bun and set Sam off again for another 20 minutes.

I really love seeing them that happy, you know?

I bought you pineapple lumps because of the name.

I miss you.  I hope this wraps up soon. Steve

Oh my god, this one is a record-breaker.  It was a month after you got home that your letter arrived.  Man, the post office was in no hurry at all.

I have the Lord of the Rings movies here.  We can watch them next time you sleepover.  Which can be tonight if you like.

I really liked those pineapple lumps.  We should go to New Zealand just to get them.  I’m jealous that you got to hold a Kiwi bird.  I am totally framing that photo of you with it.  I’ve heard they have actual dinosaurs in New Zealand and I want to see them too.

I have to say, getting these letters from you is always something I look forward to.  It takes the edge off you going.  Like I know when you’re away at some random point in time I’m going to get a letter from you and I can look forward to it.

I love you so so much. XXXOOO

Santiago is such an intense city.  There are so many people.  It’s crowded all the time and the pollution hangs low to the ground.  It does make it easy to blend in though.  Even for us.

I love how the mountains loom over us.  They just go up so drastically that even though they aren’t even close it looks like they’re in walking distance.  I want to climb them but then also I really don’t want to do that either.

I’m having a little trouble with the food with my poor Irish stomach.  I have however discovered Ceviche.  Bucky is very uncertain as to why I would want to be eating raw fish but it is so good.  I think I’m going to try and make it when I get home.  I’ve probably eaten it every single day.

We aren’t getting to see very much this time though.  It’s pretty much been constant work.  We did have a naked Clint situation but I might let him tell you about it.  Make sure you ask him though.

I miss you and love you. Steve

Your Ceviche was wonderful and I’m so glad you have that as a thing you can make.  If nothing else, I’m glad you went to Chile for that alone.  Though I wish I could go with you on these things.  I mean, obviously, I know you can’t but still, the bed feels empty without you in it.

You are welcome to climb those mountains, but I think you might have to do it without me.  Unless you want to carry me.  You can probably carry me if you like.

Naked Clint situation you say?  Well, I guess I’m coming over to the compound.  I’ll see you soon.

Love you XXXOOO

I have been to Germany so many times I stopped seeing it as something interesting.  I’ve never been here for the Christmas markets though and I am absolutely bringing you back for them.

I have never really understood Christmas lights until seeing them here. It gets dark so early and it just looks magical.

I have never seen the team so happy to be on a mission before.  We’re doing the work… but we blend into the crowds in the dark. On the time off they’re going out and buying drinks in the street.  Maybe not the most responsible thing to do I guess.

Sam has found a stall that sells skewers of meat with a potato stuck on the end and he carries them around pretending he’s a Viking.

I bought you an ornament.  It’s not super Christmas themed so you can just put it up if you want to all year round.  It looks like a bird.  Clint keeps asking me if I want you to be thinking about him when I’m not around.  So of course now I’m only going to think of him when I see it.

I have never wished you were with me as much as I do right now.  I think you would really like it here.

I miss you and love you, Steve

It sounds amazing.  I love the bird and I will absolutely not think about Clint when I look at it.  I will think about how much I love you and how you always surprise me.

The Christmas Markets do sound good and you all looked very relaxed when you got back.  That doesn’t happen very often.  I really hope we can go one day.  There are so many things I would like to do with you now.   We are definitely going to have to organize a trip together but you’re always so happy to be home.  I don’t want to drag you away from that either.

This time your letter arrived three weeks after you did.  Not a record but I was starting to wonder if you forgot.  I should have more faith in you.

Love you XXXOOO

Sydney is really pretty.  It’s been really warm here despite coming off the tail end of winter I feel like I’m steaming to death in my uniform.  It’s funny when you go to a place and it’s just like the pictures on TV look.  The Harbor is like that.  With the Bridge and the Opera House.

I got to try Tim Tams.  Finally knocking some things off my damned list.  They’re pretty good.  One of the locals showed me this way to eat them where you kind of use them as a straw.  It was a little too sweet for me but Sam made sounds like he just had an orgasm.

It’s interesting the kinds of wildlife you see right in the city too.  I mean it’s not kangaroos or anything.  But they have those big white parrots.  Cockatoos?  Is that what they’re called.  And at night there are the biggest bats I’ve ever seen in my life.  Every time we see them Sam starts quoting Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

Bucky tried eating kangaroo.  He said it was gamey but okay.  It’s funny how the rest of the team were too scared to do that.  We’re superheroes.  Oh well, I guess being too scared to eat marsupial isn’t going to end the world.

They sell opals everywhere here.  I bought you something.  I really, really hope you like it.  I think you will.

I miss you and love you.  See you soon. Steve

Five weeks!!  Five weeks this letter took me.  I can’t believe it.  And what do you mean present?  You never gave me a present.  Or are we talking those Tim Tams because I thought they were from Sam?  Sam definitely tried to make it very clear they were from him.  The whole ‘you may want to ditch Steve for me after this’ thing and all.

They were pretty damn good, but it will take more than a chocolate cookie to pull me away from you.

I really want to see giant bats.  Is Australia on our list?  It’s pretty big.  There’s got to be more to it than just Sydney.

Love you so much. XXXOOO

I’m writing this on the plane on the way back from Sydney.  Even with the Quinjet, it takes a long, long time to get from Sydney to New York.  Lots of time to think.

Obviously, I was already thinking this, because I bought the ring before I wrote the letter.  I just wanted to make sure you knew exactly how I felt.

I love you so much.  You are the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about when I go to sleep at night.  When we are apart every small thing I enjoy I wish I was sharing with you.  When we are together I feel as safe and happy as I ever have.

I love you and I want to share the rest of my life with you.  I want us to visit the world as a couple enjoying all the little things I always miss.

Will you marry me? Steve