#for me it’s rivals with benefits it always just hits so sweet and right

[tanjir0se]

No combinations or ‘I can’t decide’ you must pick the ONE that speaks to your heart

[ja3yun]

Melting Point | P.SH | CH.4

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), protected and unprotected sex, cum eating, oral (f rec.), handjob, mentions of alchohol, not many tbh, anything i've missed lmk! ch.4 synopsis: waking up in sunghoon's bed was the last thing you intended to happen. as you confront him about your brothers wishes, he comes up with a solution for the time being but on the night of your award acceptance, he can't hold back any longer. wc: 17.3k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! this is by far my favourite chapter in the whole series. it's just a nice, cute chapter with lots of smut and fluff. it's also the chapter ynhoon stans (me) have been waiting for. i said this on my page but this is the last chapter of pure happiness and after this its chaos and plot so, enjoy!

“Shit, Hoonie, right there, oh my god,’ you whimper out as Sunghoon pounds into your pussy from behind with relentless force, your face buried into his pillow muffles your cries as you approach your 3rd climax of the evening.

You and Sunghoon have been fucking like rabbits for the better part of a month and a bit. Sometimes it's a quickie in his car, other times it's these long, drawn-out sessions like the one we're having now. Since you both agreed to hook up, he's been all over you, like he can't get enough. And honestly, you're just as keen.

Over the weeks, that guilty feeling that was eating away at you has been slowly fading away. At first, it was tough, especially with the whole situation with Minhee, but Sunghoon always found a way to distract you, his touch erasing any nagging thoughts. As you started putting yourself first and just embracing the journey with Sunghoon, you began to feel more liberated.

There's something about Sunghoon that makes you feel completely at ease, like you can just be yourself without any pretence. If you're having a rough day, he's there to lend an ear and let you vent. And when something good happens, he's the first person you want to share it with.

To maintain the integrity of your friends-with-benefits arrangement, you both established a set of rules. However, those rules have been tossed out the window countless times. Take rule number 3, for example: 'No dates or gifts, no matter how big or small.' Sunghoon seems to break it regularly, sneaking little gifts into your bag or whisking you off to the University Cafe for some ‘fuel’ but ends up footing the bill every time, and now he even knows your order by heart.

Rule number 5: ‘No PDA’ was a goner within the first week. Holding his hand whenever you walked him to his car became a habit, in fact, any chance you got, your hands were intertwined. Even at the rink, where you really had to keep it on the down low, you couldn't resist a quick hand squeeze as you passed by him. Of course, that inevitably led to breaking rule number 6: no sex at the rink. Sunghoon might have fucked you in every corner of Belmore by now, including the coaches' office.

As his hands stroke up your back, he moves to pull your hair, eager to elicit every possible sound from you as he takes you to the peak of pleasure, "You're taking me so well," he murmurs, watching as he disappears into you with each rapid thrust, the action almost appearing in slow motion with how fast he’s going, "Can you feel it? Come on, Sweets, tell me what you feel."

"I feel so damn good, Hoonie," you gasp, your hair acting as his anchor as he leans back, driving himself deep into you. "You're hitting me so deep, oh my god."

One of his hands snakes under you to reach your belly and as he presses down you let out your loudest moan of the night. He can feel his cock in your stomach if he puts enough pressure, which drives you both crazy. The feeling of him deep inside you causes his eyes to roll back, wondering whether he can go deeper. Sunghoon lets go of your hair and grabs you by the stomach; the new position allows his shaft to pierce you in places that nobody else has before.

“Shit, I'm gonna cum," You've grown better at not asking if you can cum and have recently started telling him you are. This did not happen overnight, but rather because Sunghoon would stop fucking you if you asked to cum. He wanted you to be able to indulge yourself whenever and however you pleased, without being confined. When he would abruptly stop, it was almost on the point of edging, which you wanted to prevent at all costs, so you began telling him when you were going to climax.

"Such a good girl, Y/N." "Such a good girl, Y/N," he praises, another perk of not asking for permission. Sunghoon always showers you with affectionate words, both inside and outside the bedroom, causing a flutter in your chest every time. It makes your tummy flutter every time; he was so good at it, and it makes you feel seen and valued. There is a nagging feeling inside you that you should tell him to stop because of the things his words do to your heart, but you enjoy it too much, so you keep it off the rules.

He keeps his pace while leaning down to your ear, his chest and torso are sticking to your back with the collective sweat pouring from both of you. His tongue licks the shell of your ear as you clench around him, “Come on, Y/N, cum for me.”

Sunghoon loves to have you come undone before he does, the way your walls closed in on his dick was what sent him spiralling, so as he feels you coat him with your delicious cum, he follows you quickly, shooting ropes into the condom.

Despite his orgasm, he doesn’t stop slamming into you, his shaft throbbing against your g-spot with every stroke, "Hoonie, Hoonie, please," you whimper, completely overwhelmed as stars dance behind your eyelids and your mouth hangs open, a hint of drool threatening.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Sweets, can’t stop fucking you like this.” The last time this happened, Sunghoon fucked you for a good 4 hours nonstop, and as you approach your third hour right now, you wonder if you can go any longer and break your previous record, “You want that? For me to fuck you all night?”

If you had a praise kink, Sunghoon definitely had an ego kink—if such a thing existed. He thrived on hearing how he was the best you've ever had, how massive his cock was, or even just being called pretty. Falling for his bait every time was easy because, let's face it, every compliment you gave him was entirely true. "Uh-huh, can't get enough of your big cock."

"Fuck, of course you can't, Sweets. Look at how perfectly it fits in that pretty pussy of yours," he growls, the last spurts of his release filling the condom as he peppers your back with tender, open-mouthed kisses.

As your climax ebbs away, you collapse on the bed, utterly spent. He sees your exhaustion and despite his readiness to continue, he decides to call it a night.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, his condom-clad shaft is glistening with your essence and your pussy matches, looking delectable. To clean you, he brings his mouth to your hole and licks you clean, sure not to waste a single drop. Normally, he would either get a damp towel, or carry you into the shower to rinse you off, but he doesn’t want to wash away his favourite meal, that would be a waste.

"Sunghoon, fuck," you moan as his tongue delves into you, sending shivers down your spine. You sink deeper into his bed, your toes curling involuntarily. If he doesn't stop soon, another climax is imminent, setting off a delightful yet relentless cycle of pleasure where you cum on his face, and he eagerly laps it up all night.

But your sensitive pussy protests, especially after already being pleasured twice today. With a tally of eight orgasms already, your body begs for a respite.

"Just a minute, Sweets. Almost done," he mutters, though he's far from wanting to be finished. Sensing your sensitivity, he refrains from pushing you over the edge, giving two more gentle swipes of his tongue before reluctantly pulling away. Planting kisses along your ass cheeks and spine, he can't help but praise your perfection, "So damn perfect like this, baby."

"Sunghoon, no pet names," you mumble, reminding him of rule 2: no endearments like baby, princess, or angel, all of which have slipped out of his mouth one of two times. He fought to keep calling you Sweets since he has done so from the beginning. He hasn’t ever told you why he calls you Sweets but he’s attached to it, so you let him have it.

“Sorry,” he says quietly but he isn’t sorry. You know this because he’s smiling like an idiot while he scatters little kisses over your shoulder blades.

Finding energy from somewhere, you turn around as he comes off you to clean himself. You’ll never get over how ethereal he is, his body is perfectly proportioned, and his waist does make you jealous though. Why do some men have slutty little waists and you don’t? 

You reach down beside his bed and pick up the clothes you wore today, although, you’ve spent more time naked than in them, “I better get going.”

He slips into a random pair of boxers before walking over to you, reaching for the bra you’ve been trying to grab, “You know you don’t have to rush away, we could get some food or watch a movie? The new Hunger Games is on Prime, we could rent it?” Sunghoon was trying to find any reason for you to stay. 

Taking your bra from his outstretched fingers, you add it to the pile beside you, still seated there naked. "We can't, Hoonie, you know this," you reply softly. It's a rare occasion for you to linger long after sex, fearing that staying will only unearth the emotions you've been desperately trying to suppress.

Rule number 1: Keep your feelings in check. You couldn’t make the rule ‘don’t develop feelings’ because both of you knew that ship had sailed long ago. You were already attached to one another from the first time you kissed. It was more realistic to tell yourselves to bury your emotions for one another. As time goes on, it’s getting harder and harder, which is why you don’t stay. When it was the first week, sometimes you would stay over if it was late but waking up in Sunghoon's embrace only intensified your feelings for him.

Sunghoon bites his lips thin and nods, placing both his hands on his waist, “I know, but I miss spending time with you.”

“Hoonie, we see one another every day, I see you more than I see my family now,” you say softly. 

It’s true, you’ve spent so much time in Sunghoon’s presence that you rarely make it home at a reasonable hour these days. You do feel guilty about missing Minhee’s practices, but you’re scared if you see him for too long you might get that gut-wrenching guilt bubble back into your heart, and everything is so good right now, that you didn’t want to be the cause of its downfall.

"But when was the last time we did something together?" he asks with a pout, sitting down beside you.

"We went out for dinner three nights ago," you bat back.

Sunghoon knows he's being a bit unreasonable, you guys have been hanging out, just not in the way he wants. He longs for those moments when you're cuddled up watching a movie or when he's playing with your hair while you scroll through TikTok, showing him videos the most unfunny videos. He just wants to do nothing with you.

His dejected expression breaks your heart. You can tell he's getting overly invested in this. Sometimes he’ll look at you like you’re the only girl in the world and that’s dangerous. 

Truthfully, you feel the same way about him, sometimes he is the only person on the planet that matters to you - aside from Minhee, of course. You wouldn't have a problem dating your brother's fiercest rival if you didn't hold Minhee in such high regard, but sadly, you loved Minhee too much to hurt him.

There was something that you have been meaning to ask Sunghoon but you’re scared it’ll blur the lines of your relationship with him. 

Your eyes meet his and you decide to take the leap, “Hey, there was something I wanted to ask you,” Sunghoon takes your hands in his, waiting for you to continue, “You can say no, obviously!” you add quickly, already giving him a way out even though he doesn’t have the slightest clue what you’re on about.

“Ask me and I’ll decide if I want to say no,” The older boy’s smile is slight, encouraging you to ask him your evidently big question.

“Um, do you remember when I was upset and you saw me at the rink?” you ask.

How could he forget, it was the first night he got to taste your lips. Sunghoon nods and you carry on,  "And you know how I'm a top student at my university?" Another nod follows as his thumbs gently caress the back of your hands. "Well, I won an award, I think I told you that. Anyway, there's a ceremony happening on the 23rd of September, and I was wondering if maybe you would come with me? I have to RSVP by Monday."

You rush through the words, avoiding eye contact with Sunghoon. Truth be told, you had initially asked Rina to accompany you, but she has an early exam the next day—her last chance after failing it twice. Obviously, Minhee has a schedule so he and your mum are out of the picture, the only other person you want there with you is Sunghoon.

Taking a moment to process your request, Sunghoon mentally sifts through his schedule, realizing he likely has prior engagements but decides he's going to cancel them. He wouldn't miss the opportunity to be by your side as you accept such a prestigious award. "I would love to come, Y/N," he replies with genuine enthusiasm.

Your head shoots up, eyes widening in surprise. "Wait, really? Don't you want to check if you can make it and get back to me?" you ask, taken aback by his immediate acceptance. He doesn't even glance at his phone or consult a calendar. "You really don't have to come, I know Nationals are like 2 months away."

"Y/N," he soothes, running his fingers through your hair in a comforting gesture, "I will be there."

No one has ever simply said yes to you so readily. You're accustomed to being sidelined as people search for excuses not to commit. You have to admit, Minhee always tried his best to make it to your events, despite your mom often intervening. Sometimes you wonder if she deliberately scheduled things to prevent him from attending.

"It's at 7 pm, is that okay?" you ask sheepishly.

"Of course it is, Sweets," he assures you, planting a gentle kiss on your lips before whispering, "Thank you for letting me be a part of your life like this."

Sunghoon's heart races alongside yours, warmth spreading through his body. He didn't mean to voice his gratitude aloud, but he's overwhelmed by the fact that you're willing to share this part of yourself with him. It’s risky in the whole boundary department, but he’ll figure it out. 

Your heart would be burrowing out of your chest and drowning him in kisses if it had legs. It's unfortunate that you can't truly claim Sunghoon as yours because he was everything you could have ever wanted. This stupid fucking rivalry. If you could go back in time to prevent them from competing against one another, you would.

He notices that your mind is racing when he looks at you, so he does what he always does when you're acting that way: he kisses you with so much intensity that it leaves you thinking only of his lips. 

It works every single time. 

"Hoonie," you mumble his name into his mouth, feeling the effect it has on him, "Thank you so so much. I owe you."

A mischievous smirk spreads across his lips. "You can suck my cock in the car on the drive back to yours?" he teases, earning a playful swat on the arm from you, "Okay, okay! What's the dress code for your big day?"

"It's a black tie event," you reply, focusing on putting on your clothes, "It's fancy."

Humming in acknowledgement, Sunghoon begins pondering his wardrobe options, "What are you wearing, Sweets?" he asks, hoping to coordinate outfits.

"I haven't decided yet. I need to go into the city and buy something nice," you admit. You don't have any fancy clothes, certainly nothing suitable for an award ceremony, so you've been saving up for a nice gown. The only problem is, you have no idea what to wear or what you could possibly get with your measly savings.

"Shopping? I'll come with you," Sunghoon offers.

You give him a doubtful glance. "Why?"  After all, he has plenty of expensive designer suits in his closet; he doesn't need to go shopping with you.

"For the company, duh," he replies, pulling you into an embrace. Sunghoon often cuddles you like this, his long arms enveloping your head as he plays with your hair. It's both comforting and frustrating, making it hard for you to resist him. "Plus, I can help you pick something out and see you in pretty dresses all day. I don't see any cons here."

You consider his offer. Rina, your usual shopping partner, is often too busy with her own try-ons to provide much help, making her a less-than-ideal companion. Maybe having Sunghoon along wouldn't be such a bad idea after all, it would be nice to get some advice.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you mould yourself against him, "Okay, you can come. I was planning to go on Wednesday," you agree, enjoying the warmth of his touch as you nuzzle your nose against his bare chest.

"I'll pick you up from uni," he suggests with a smile.

Sunghoon has memorised your complete schedule so he could quickly figure out when he could see you, and more significantly, what parts of his own schedule he could change to accommodate yours. You took classes all summer, which was unusual, but apparently, it counted toward your final degree. With events and marketing being such a saturated field, you must stand out. Sunghoon begins to truly understand why you're receiving this award the more he learns about you.

“Are you sure? Yonsei is aeons away, and don't you have a photoshoot for Prada's winter collection in the morning?" you ask, reminding him of his commitments.

It's easy to forget that Sunghoon is a famous ice skater, probably because he's always 7 inches deep inside you and when he isn't, he's the most regular 20-year-old you know.

“It’s all good, with a face like mine, the photoshoot will be done in an hour,” his lips press themselves against yours as he lays tiny smooches on the same spot, his smile growing bigger and bigger as he does so.

Feeling his hands slide under your top and nails scraping your back lightly, you know what he’s going to ask you, so you jump the gun, “I can’t stay, Hoonie. I need to get going.”

"Don't. There's nothing for you out there, and it's cold," he pleads, pouting like a kid.

"It's 23 degrees," you laugh at his feeble excuses. "I'll see you tomorrow like always."

Sunghoon mumbles something in protest, but you know it's probably his way of expressing his reluctance to spend a day apart from you. You and Sunghoon are practically inseparable, constantly calling or texting when you're not together.

He lets you step back and goes to get changed so he can drive you home.

Both of you learned your lesson from the last time Minhee caught you getting out of his enemy's car, so now Sunghoon drops you off at the end of the street to maintain appearances and keep him out of sight.

As he fixes his shoes and grabs his car keys and a hoodie, he turns to you with a mischievous grin. "So about that blow job in the car I was talking about earlier…"

He's an animal

But you’re the one tying up your hair and loosening your jaw as you push him out the door.

__________

Wednesday comes faster than you think and you’ve just received a text from Mr. Ice Prince himself

No.1 Ice Skater 🧊🤍:

1:43pm: I’m waiting at Centennial Hall

1:43pm: 🤍 x

You and Rina are walking together after leaving your joint B2B marketing lesson. Despite being in different majors—she studies fashion and business—Rina failed this class last semester and needs to make it up. You joked that she flunked on purpose so she could retake the class with you, but when you laughed, she got serious. In reality, she did fail on purpose, but not for the flattering reason you joked about; rather, to copy your answers and coax you into study sessions that often devolved into gossip about other students on campus. Despite the ulterior motive, you enjoy your time together, so you don’t mind at all.

She’s in the middle of talking when she pauses, looking down at your phone in disgust, “You’re texting him again? I don’t even text Allen this much.” That’s a brazen lie, she’s just more sneaky about it. 

“He’s picking me up,” you reply back to Sunghoon’s text with a simple ‘Okay <3’ and put your phone in your back pocket, “We’re going into the city.” 

"What for?" Her eyes are fixed on yours as if she's trying to read your mind. You haven’t led an interesting life, most of it studying and being Minhee’s cheerleader, so now that you have Sunghoon as your fuck buddy, Rina laps up every little detail. You leave the sex details to a minimum because, at the end of the day, that’s no one’s business but yours and Sunghoon’s, but you tell her enough to keep her entertained.

Looking at Rina, you realise you can't tell her he's accompanying you on a shopping trip because it would hurt her the most. Fashion is her entire existence, it is who she is, so if your best friend discovered you enlisted someone else to help you locate a gown, she would be devastated. 

“Just lunch,” you lie, which you’re getting better at. Not the best trait to have but it’s been helping you out the past 5 weeks.

“Isn’t that against your rules?” She questions, eyebrows raised.

You frantically try to think, “Uhm, yeah I suppose, but he was insistent.” You forgot you told her the list of boundaries and rules that are keeping this ‘friends with benefits’ deal exactly that, so she pulls you up every chance she gets.

“He’s so annoying. I still can’t believe he had the audacity to speak to me like that at Yeonjun’s party, and in front of all those people!” Her arms flail in frustration, “Like he hasn’t even apologised either. He’s a colossal cunt, I hope he knows how lucky he is he has you to protect him because I would destroy him if I had a chance.”

Rina really couldn’t let it go. You’ve pleaded with Sunghoon to text her and say sorry to her and Allen but he doesn’t think he should apologise for being honest. 

Ahead of you, you observe Sunghoon standing by his car, as gorgeous as ever. He had just returned from a photoshoot, so his hair and makeup have been done and his clothes are flashy yet simple. He’s wearing a brown suede jacket over his white Prada-encrusted t-shirt, and the black dress trousers highlight his snatched waist. He's a vision, and you find yourself admiring him as always. Truth be told, you like him in anything - or even nothing at all - because Sunghoon is so effortlessly beautiful, he can pull off anything.

Waving, you gain his attention and he smiles at you, his eyes turning into crescent moons. Rina looks between you both with a bewildered look on her face, “Oh. My. God. You like him. Like, really like him.” Was it that obvious? “And he likes you!” Apparently so.

You shush Rina, urging her to keep it down. "It's not like that, we're just messing around. You know this, Rina," you insist, hoping to deflect any further probing into your relationship with Sunghoon.

Before she can say anything else or coax you into admitting something you're not ready to, you reach Sunghoon, who instinctively pulls you into a hug and plants a kiss on your forehead. "Hey, Sweets," he greets you warmly.

Your best friend scowls at him, scrutinizing the situation before her. Rina is a smart girl; she calls a spade a spade, and in her eyes, there's no way you both don't have feelings for each other. She understands why you won't just admit it and date officially, but in her mind, you're already together, just not acknowledging it to assuage your guilty conscience.

Sunghoon smiles down at you as you cling to him, but Rina's presence brings him back to reality. "Bring her back to mine once you're done with your lunch," she instructs, her demeanour guarded. Her words prompt Sunghoon to acknowledge her, though he can sense her disdain.

He knows she hates him, quite honestly the feeling is semi-mutual - he isn’t the biggest fan of hers, but she treats you well, that’s all that matters. He does, however, plan on winning her over because he senses how uncomfortable you get when they have to be in the same room together, “I will. I brought you something from my shoot this morning,” he says, attempting to extend an olive branch.

Drawing back, you stare at Sunghoon in confusion, but he shakes his head and heads to the trunk of his car. Rina's interest is piqued; she heard from you that he was working with Prada, and her fashionista instincts can't help but be a little excited. Regardless of whether it's from Sunghoon or not, she loves presents.

There are three Prada-branded boxes laid out in front of him, all of which are for Rina. Was it a bribe to get her to back off and potentially win her approval? Maybe, but judging by the look on her face, his plan might just work. "These are all from the Winter 24' season. I guessed you were a sample size," he says, aiming to flatter her.

Rina squeals with delight and grabs the boxes eagerly, tearing them open as fast as she can, just in case it's some kind of prank. Inside, she finds a sheer grey blouse with a red and brown collar accent, a long pleated white skirt, and a matching handbag. Sunghoon even went the extra mile to include the new Paradoxe Intense perfume, just to sweeten the deal.

She holds the clothing up to her body, exclaiming, "I am going to look so good in these! Thanks, Hoon!" Sunghoon can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the use of the nickname.

Glancing over at you, he sees your knowing expression. You understand exactly what he's up to, and while you may not agree with his methods, you appreciate the sentiment. He's trying to make amends, and that's more than most men would do.

Hugging Sunghoon tightly, Rina sways him from side to side, a stark contrast to her demeanour just moments ago. Sunghoon laughs and pats her head, promising to keep her in mind for any future shoots.

"Do you happen to be modelling for Gucci anytime soon?" she asks cheekily, causing you to shoot her a disapproving look, "What? I want the new purse they're bringing out," she shrugs, picking up her presents and sauntering away from the car, "Thanks again. I'll leave my favourite lovebirds to it."

It's astounding how easily swayed she is by a few items of fabric, a fact you make a mental note of for future reference. Once she's happily on her way, you and Sunghoon are left in silence.

Sunghoon shuts the trunk of his car before lifting you up in a sudden move, "Hoonie!" you squeal, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. Despite the suddenness, you wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him as he kisses you passionately. He sets you down on the back of his car and cradles your head, deepening the kiss. His lips feel softer than usual, gliding over yours like butter, possibly due to the lip oil he applied earlier in the day

His tongue playfully teases your lips, poking out ever so slightly to give you a taste, but when you chase it with your own, he retracts. You let out a whine of annoyance and lust, a sound Sunghoon is all too familiar with. He loves it; how you draw it out depends on how much you crave him. It makes him feel some sort of way that he can’t quite put into words.

You take hold of his jacket and bring him forward, taking control of the situation. The world seems to vanish around you with every caress, to the point where you miss the stares of passers-by and their disapproving glances as you and Sunghoon practically devour each other's faces. You can taste the warmth and passion between you every time your tongues touch. He's intoxicating.

But you really need to get a dress, and if you get too caught up in him right now, you'll never make it to the city. Instead, you'll end up with your legs spread in the backseat of his car.

"Hoonie, we better stop," you say, trying to sound serious, but your breathless whisper betrays your true feelings.

"Why?" He asks as he nips at your neck, too preoccupied with kissing you to remember the objective of today's outing, or even that he's on your campus practically dry-humping you out in the open.

"You know why," you whisper into his ear, trying to regain some composure.

His head falls in defeat on your shoulder, and he nuzzles into you, tickling the base of your neck. A smile spreads across his face, "I missed you, that's all," he admits, his voice filled with sincerity.

Rolling your eyes, you lift his head with your hand. "I saw you just two days ago."

"But I always miss you, doesn't matter if it's two days or two minutes," he says innocently, knowing exactly the effect those words will have on you. And it works; your heart swells with happiness, making you momentarily forget your resolve.

Pushing him away gently, you jump off the back of his car, ignoring the fluttering in your chest. Sunghoon simply shakes his head and gets into the seat beside you. Turning on the radio, he switches it back to your favourite station and buckles up. "Where to first?"

"There's a dress I saw online that's in Reeta's. They have one in my size just as you get into the city centre," you reply, going to put the address into his car’s navigation system. As you do, you notice that your home address is his favourite route, followed by your work address and then your college.

Sunghoon notices your pause and furrows his brows, "Do you know the address? I can google it if you want," he offers, glancing at his navigation system and realising what has caught your attention. He knows his way to all those locations by now, but seeing them saved under 'Y/N’s House', 'Y/N’s Work', and 'Y/N’s Uni' brings him a sense of comfort and belonging. To him, it's like having pieces of you scattered over every part of his life, even while driving. He never planned for you to see it, but now that you have, he hopes it's not a big deal to you.

You quickly type in Reeta’s postcode and hit okay, “It says it’s 25 minutes if we take the motorway,” you inform him.

He salutes playfully and drives off to your first destination, a smile playing on his lips.

___

4 shops, and 3 boutiques later, you’ve lost all hope. Not one of the dresses gave you the ‘wow’ factor you needed. It’s not often you go to events like this so you need your outfit to be spectacular. 

Right now, you're in a random shop you spotted on the high street. It's not exactly the most inviting place – dark and kind of dreary, with clothes that look like they belong in a period drama rather than on a modern-day street.

Sunghoon is also browsing the dresses. Bless him, he's been dragged around every shop, and while you're about to have a mental breakdown, he's always the optimist, finding dresses that meet the criteria you gave him. You're looking for an emerald green or navy blue dress that reaches your knees, preferably longer. It also needs to have a spaghetti strap or be off the shoulders. You knew what suited you, plus, those were the sort of dresses you imagined yourself wearing as soon as you received the letter about the ceremony.

He finds a ribbed green dress with gold accents, “What about this? It’s kind of emerald, and it would sit comfortably.” 

It’s the most hideous gown you’ve seen today, but his little smiley face stops you from being so brutally honest, “It’s not really my style.”

Putting it back, he walks to where you are looking and sighs in your ear, hugging you from behind. He can see you losing patience and will to find a dress and if you’re anything like his girl friends, specifically Wonyoung, you would start ranting about how you aren’t going any second now, "We've still got the Square to check out," he says, trying to lift your spirits. "Maybe we'll get lucky there."

You widen your eyes, “Hoonie, that’s Designer Square. There is no way they’ll have anything within my budget, not even on the sale rack.” the Square was your town’s equivalent to Rodeo Drive, each street was lined with branded stores like Armani, Gucci, Burberry, basically every shop out of your league. You don’t even recall a time you dared to walk near it. 

"Worth having a look, right?" Sunghoon's optimism is charming, but you can't help but feel a pang of doubt. With the amount of money you have, you're not even sure you could afford a keychain from one of these stores. Despite saving up a bit from your extra shifts, your bank account is far from flush. £200 might buy you a small accessory or a one-way ticket home on the bus if you're lucky.

Sunghoon doesn’t give you time to argue, his hands on your shoulders pushing you out the door and into the car.

As he drove up to the high-end part of the city, you were in awe, even the street lamps looked prettier here. The people gracing the streets are all dripping in designer clothes, making you feel a bit out of place. It was okay for Sunghoon, he was still wearing his exclusive Prada outfit that would be the envy of everyone here, whether as you are clad in an a-line denim skirt with a purple cardigan you’re pretty sure you got from ASOS. It’s a whole different world here.

He pulls up at the end of the street, parking his Puegoet next to an array of Land Rovers and BMWs. This was definitely not a place made for you, but it seemed to fit Sunghoon perfectly - the clean-cut aesthetic, the expensiveness, it was all him. 

“Do you come here a lot?” You only ask because he seems to be guiding you to a specific shop as if he visits frequently.

He intertwines his fingers with yours and swings it idly, "No, not really, but sometimes I get invited to galas and sponsor events. There's a store up to the right that sells dress trousers that actually fit."

You hum in acknowledgement, wondering if Minhee ever gets invited to such events. He's just as talented as Sunghoon when it comes to skating, yet he doesn’t seem to live as lavishly. Granted, Sunghoon has won nationals and even went to the Youth Olympics, while Minhee didn’t. Maybe that has something to do with it.

"Is that where you’re taking me now? To your suit guy?" you ask.

Sunghoon squeezes your hand and stops, "No, we’re going here," he points to the store beside you, and you gasp.

"No way, Sunghoon. I can’t even afford to even breathe in a Versace store." But it’s too late; he's already walking in, ignoring your protests. He holds the door open, gesturing for you to come in. Despite your reluctance, he waits patiently, still smiling. The people in the store stare, wondering why he’s just standing there looking at you. With a groan and a stomp of your feet, you cave and walk inside.

The store is bright and vibrant. Glass panels showcase handbags and other accessories on the right, while an extensive row of shoes lines the left. The shopkeepers and other customers all look straight out of an upper-class drama. Actually, now that you think about it, you feel a little like you’re in a K-drama, with the big CEO as the male lead and you as the poor girl whose family owns a chicken restaurant.

With his arm on your back, Sunghoon guides you past the onlookers and to the dresses. "Look through these, and I’ll be right back," he says.

"But Hoonie, I can’t afford these," you whisper embarrassed as you twist the £2,000 tag from a random dress and shove it in his face to emphasize your point.

"Appease me, yeah?" He pinches your cheek before he walks away, leaving you to scour for a gown.

Each one of them is beautiful and elegant, the detailing and colours blowing your mind. You could never find anything as stunning in your local boutiques. There's one in particular that catches your eye, a sleek ivory dress with gold chains cascading down the sides. It’s not what you would normally wear, but it is stunning.

As you continue to look through, you find yourself unable to choose. Not because they're not right, but because they're all too nice now, and about £1,000 over your budget. In defeat, you go to find Sunghoon when you suddenly see the most beautiful dress you have ever laid your eyes on. It’s nothing like what you imagined, everything about it is the opposite of what you wanted, but it is flawlessly ethereal in every way. It’s a black halter neck dress with an open back, lace detailing throughout, and frills that are the main attraction. If you could fall in love and marry a piece of clothing, it might just be with this. It’s classy, elegant, and perfect for the ceremony.

There's just one tiny problem. It's £1,800.

You’re scared to touch it, but you have to, you need to know what something this pretty feels like. Tentatively, you pinch the top frill and feel it between your fingertips. That was your first mistake because now no other dress is going to compare.

“You like that one?” you were so busy admiring the dress that you failed to notice Sunghoon coming up beside you. Nodding, you don’t take your eyes off the garment, too in love with it. “Try it on then.”

“I can’t. It’s too expensive,” you say wistfully, your heart sinking.

Sunghoon leans in, his voice barely a whisper next to your ear. “Exactly. When else will you have a chance to rock something like this? Let yourself indulge a little, Sweets.”

He’s right, you won’t get an opportunity like this again, and what harm has a little delusion ever brought anyone? You smile brightly and nod, “Okay, yeah, maybe just for a minute.” Sunghoon smiles at your response and looks at one of the workers, pointing with his eyes to get you it in your size.

In a flash, the shop assistants have you in the changing room, which resembles a whole wedding boutique. The gold and white decor only elevates the classiness of the place. How could this be a dressing room? The assistant ushers you into one of the stalls which is bigger than your bedroom. Sunghoon waits outside for you to change, taking a seat on the plump suite. 

As you shed your clothes and slip into the dress, you're struck by its perfect fit. The delicate zip glides effortlessly, cinching your waist and accentuating your curves. As you pull up the top half of the dress and tie the bow at the back, although it proves a task because you can’t see it properly, you take one final look at yourself. You haven't felt this stunning in a long time; it's almost overwhelming.

Stepping out, everyone else is gone but Sunghoon who is scrolling on his phone. You straighten yourself and clear your throat to gather his attention.

“Holy fucking shit,” he whispers, eyes widening in disbelief.

His reaction is exactly what you hoped for. Sunghoon rises from the sofa, taking measured steps towards you, arms outstretched in front of him to take your hands, which you happily oblige, “You’re a dream. You have to be,” he isn’t speaking to you but projecting his inner monologue subconsciously.

As he takes in every detail, he smiles tenderly, almost reverently. It's as if the dress has unveiled a new layer of your beauty, leaving him spellbound. Emotion wells up in his chest, and he is completely in awe of you.

Your face glows with happiness. "It's nice, right?"

"Baby, you're otherworldly." Sunghoon threads his fingers with yours and opens your arms so he can get a proper look at you. At that moment, he sees you poised with a grace that can only be described as radiant, bewitching, whatever other word comes under 'transcendental' in the thesaurus. "I mean, look at you." Of all the routines he's done, no matter how challenging, he thinks this is the moment he becomes the most out of breath he has ever been.

You note the affectionate name he's uttered and should scold him, but who cares right now? "Yeah? Really?"

"What? You don't think so?" He asks, bewildered at the thought that you don't think you look like the most ethereal creature to walk this earth. Swiftly, he turns you to face the mirror in the middle of the waiting area. "Look at yourself, Sweets. You're a fucking vision."

Though you do feel beautiful, the longer you gaze at yourself, the more you wrestle with a hint of impostor syndrome. This dress feels like it belongs to another world, one far beyond your own, meant for the Rinas of the world.

As Sunghoon rubs your shoulders, he senses the tension building within you, "No," he murmurs.

You shift your face to look at him, "What do you mean, 'no'?"

He presses his mouth to your exposed shoulder, kissing it tenderly.,"No, as in, no to whatever you're thinking about. You look unreal, and I'm not leaving here until you say that you do." His kisses trail along your shoulders and back as he gently rubs your arms.

"I do feel pretty, I know I do, but do you think it suits me?" Sunghoon's hands untie the bow at the top, and you look at him with a shocked expression. "Park Sunghoon, don't you dare."

Laughing, he shakes his head. "You've got such a filthy mind," he teases. When the neckline tightens against your throat, you realize what he's doing. "And you have terrible bow-tying skills." Closing your eyes and lowering your head, embarrassed at where your mind went to first.

"I mean... I could bend you over and..." His words trail off suggestively, and you feel his hands slide down your arms as he kisses down your spine.

"Sunghoon," you warn, but it doesn't deter him. He continues to glide his fingers up under the dress, ready to pull your underwear down.

"I'm serious, Sunghoon. Don't," you insist as your face flushes a deep shade of red.

He steps back, his presence behind you providing some distance. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and despite the feebleness of your warning, he wanted you to know he would stop whenever you asked, especially after what you’d been through.

Scrunching your hair, he holds it in an updo and brings two pieces of your hair to cascade down your face, “Picture it with your hair and makeup done, your bangs blown out a little like Sabrina Carpenter, I think you’d be the prettiest in the place - but I’m biased because you’re always the prettiest to me.” How did he know what hairstyle Sabrina Carpenter had?

A shop assistant enters and catches sight of you through the mirror, gasping out an almost silent "wow." Sunghoon's smug grin grows wider; he knew your beauty in this dress would be undeniable. The girl fetches two of her colleagues who have the same reaction.

The man behind you turns to them, "I think we need some shoes, don’t you think?" All of them nod in agreement as you swish around, locking eyes with Sunghoon. You’ve lived out your fantasy; it’s time to go. Yet, he’s already dashing to the front of the store, quickly returning with a pair of Medusa '95 slingback pumps adorned with the Versace logo on the buckle. The stiletto is about 4 and a half inches, smaller than what you’re used to, but Sunghoon knows your style and that you’ll manage just fine.

The eager assistants gather around to help you put the classic shoes on and they fit just right. The combination of the heels and the dress was just perfect, like something picked for a celebrity going to the Oscars.

As you stand there in front of everyone once again, you feel a little like Mia in the Princess Diaries with the way their eyes are on you after your big transformation. Sunghoon was right, with your hair and makeup done, you’d be the talk of the event.

Your new makeshift stylist stands there as if he’s assessing you from head to toe. His middle finger rubs his bottom lip as he saunters over to you, his eyes carrying affection and deep thought, “We’ll take them.” 

Is he out of his mind? 

“Hoonie, I can’t,” your eyes watch as the people in the shop scurry to get everything prepared for you, their eyes lighting up. They must work on commission because no one in shops like Primark would ever work so fast.

“Go get changed, no arguing. Let me do this,” he mutters into your lips, kissing you tenderly.

“I can’t, it is way too expensive and this goes way beyond breaching our rules,” you protest.

Sunghoon sighs and tries to think. You’re getting that dress whether you like it or not, he just has to convince you to let him buy it for you, “Don’t see it as a gift from me but for me. I want to see you accept your award in that dress, so I’m buying it for myself to give to you. Completely selfish of me if you think about it.” 

Accepting an almost £2000 gown wasn’t within your capabilities, no matter how gorgeous you looked in it. Your tiny savings couldn’t even pay for the buckles on the shoes the staff were slowly taking off your feet.

“I’m serious, Hoonie. I can’t accept it,” you cross your arms over in a huff, standing your ground as Sunghoon frustratingly runs his hands through his hair.

“Okay, how about this? I will buy it today and you will pay me back. Then it’s not a gift but a loan. See? problem solved.” He was adamant for sure. It might take you forever to pay him back but it seemed like the best option for your scenario. 

Nodding, you relax your body, “fine, deal,” you grab his hand and shake it, “I’ll pay back every penny.” You’re going to have to work some serious overtime but it’ll be worth it., you’ll be belle of the ball or whatever the saying is.

As you walk away and get changed back into your ordinary clothes, Sunghoon speaks up, “Oh, and I only accept repayment in kisses. No cash.” He smirks and swiftly heads out to the payment desk.

“Park Sunghoon! That’s not happening!” You shout at him.

“Sorry, Sweets, we shook on it.” The smug man doesn’t even glance back at you. 

That son of a bitch. 

___________

It’s the night of the ceremony and you are beyond nervous. The idea of being acknowledged in front of a room full of people makes you sick to your stomach. Sure, you won’t be the only one there accepting an award since it’s for all the top students throughout the city, but all eyes will be on you at some point or other and that is what is causing the knots in your tummy. 

Was it a bad idea to go tonight? It’s not as if you wouldn’t get the award, they would hand it into the Uni for you if you suddenly decided not to show up. You pace around your room, shaking your hands and breathing out to calm down. It’s not that big of a deal, get over it, you tell yourself, but nothing is stopping your thoughts. What if you fall? What if you got the date wrong? What if it’s a prank?

All these what-ifs circle in your head. 

You throw yourself in front of your vanity mirror to look at yourself and assess whether you really can do this. The makeup and hair you've chosen for yourself make you appear to have it all together; the light eyeliner and gold shimmer eye shadow subtly make your eyes appear larger, and the Bardot fringe framing your face, as Sunghoon had suggested, it all ties together beautifully. 

Maybe you can do this. Maybe, the reason you’re feeling so nervous is that you aren’t used to any sort of fuss being made about you, the spotlight always shining on your brother, Rina, or literally anyone else but you. When you got the letter through, you cried over not getting attention and recognition for it, and now here you are sweating over the fact you are getting what you wanted. 

“Y/N, can I come in?” Minhee asks through the door. He hadn’t left for his shoot yet and honestly, you didn’t think you’d see him tonight. 

You nod and then remember he can’t see you through the wooden door, “Oh, yeah come in.” You hadn’t begun to get ready in your dress yet, most of your time spent on the lashes you eventually decided to leave behind after a 30-minute dispute with yourself and some glue.

Standing up to greet him, Minhee comes in and closes the door behind him and when he sees you all dolled up, he scrunches his face, “Since when did my little sister become so grown up?” He inspects you, walking around you to look at your hair, “You’ve got a bit sticking out the back, by the way.”

Running back over to your mirror you examine your hair, looking for the imperfection but you don’t see it. With Minhee’s snort, you realise he’s joking, “Fuck off, Mini, don’t say shit like that!” you complain, going over your hair anyway.

“Sorry, Y/N, I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you so dolled up before.” He says.

"Yeah, well, it's a big night." You don't mean to say it snarkily, but Minhee seems to interpret it that way, his head dropping to look at the floor. He wanted nothing more than to be there for you, and it hurt him that you might think he didn't care. 

Of course, you knew he cared; he told you he tried to reschedule this commercial shoot the night you found out; you can't blame him for not attending this ceremony because he at least tried to be there. 

Minhee puts his hands in his pockets, “I can see if we can finish early. I might be able to make some of it?” 

Your eyes widen in panic, thinking about what would happen if he showed up only to see Sunghoon sitting beside you, “No, no, really it’s okay. Just have fun at your shoot.”

“You think I will have fun knowing I’m missing my baby sister's first life achievement?” He’s angry but not at you, at himself and the situation he’s in because the more he speaks, the more he hates himself for not just throwing this schedule to the wind so he could come with you. But there’s more to it than you know.

Facing him, you try to offer him an empathetic expression: "Mini, I didn't mean it that way. Plus, my first major life achievement was high school graduation, and you came to that." 

Smiling, you recall how he made such a fuss about something so insignificant in your view. Minhee created a banner that read 'Y/N, You Rock!' on it. It was cheesy and unusual to bring to graduation, but because you had always crafted signs to bring with you when you cheered him on at contests, he thought it was not only hilarious but also appropriate, “Plus, I’ll just win it again next year so you can come with me then.”

He smiles slightly and finds some comfort in your words. It amazed him how you managed to make everyone else feel better about themselves even when they shouldn’t. Gently, he attempts to fix your bangs, “Take lots of pictures, yeah? So many that I don’t think I missed it at all.”

“I will,” You stick your hand up in the air and he laughs, high-fiving you.

Before he leaves you for his schedule, he asks one more dreaded question, “Who are you taking anyway?” 

It was the one question you hadn’t prepped for and now suddenly you’re back in school being given a pop quiz on a book you forgot to read.

“R-Rina! You know she would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t bring her along.” It was quick thinking and a plausible answer. He didn’t know she was stuck inside, studying for tomorrow’s exam.

“I figured, just wondering since you’re wearing that perfume you only wear for dates.” He smirks.

You sprayed a little Crystal Noir on your pulse points once you finished your hair to give it time to die down before you had to leave, “Excuse me, I use it for all special occasions.” Crossing your arms, you stand defensively. If he caught a whiff of a guy coming with you to this event, he wouldn’t let it go, and you couldn’t exactly blurt out that it was Sunghoon you were taking.

“Whatever. Have a good time, okay? If anything happens or Rina gets out of hand, give me a call, yeah?” Minhee stands half out of your room, holding the door as if he wants to say something else, “I’m proud of you, Bubs.”

Don’t fucking cry, this foundation is so expensive.

“Thanks, Mini. Love you,” you utter in a low voice, appreciative of his words.

Minhee closes the door behind him and you check your phone for the time. You have an hour to finish getting dressed, plenty of time to fit in a few more what-ifs, and learn to tie the bow of your dress correctly.

_____

Brushing off any dust or hair from your dress, you take a glance at yourself in the mirror. You look good like you’re prepared for this. Your phone pings with a new message.

No.1 Ice Skater 🧊🤍:

6:14pm: Hey Sweets, are you ready?

6:14pm: Yeah! Are you nearly here?

Just as your message was sent, the doorbell rings. Sunghoon didn’t wait about, you thought you had at least another 10 minutes before he showed up.

Running down the stairs, almost as if you’re gliding, you swing the door open, not even looking at Sunghoon properly, “Come in! I’m just going to get my stuff from upstairs.” 

You’re like a mist, coming as fast as you go and Sunghoon bewilderingly helps himself into your home. This is the first time he dared to step foot in the Kang residence, giving him a strange feeling. 

Glancing around, his eyes grew with curiosity as he took in the intricacies that made up the place. His gaze lingered on the framed images on the walls, which captured different parts of your life from young until now. It was as if each image represented a chapter, and he was turning the pages. 

However, he did notice how there was only one of you solely on your own, you were 14, leaning on a tree on an evidently hot summer day in your sundress. He remembers you so clearly at that age, it’s strange considering he didn’t get to speak more than 3 words to you back then. The smile on his face grows as his gratitude for the time he can spend with you now seeps into his heart. 

The padding of your feet down the carpeted stairs pulls his eyes away, looking at the now 19-year-old you. You’re fighting to put a pair of earrings in as you hold the Versace shoes by their strap on one of your free fingers and your handbag swings from your left shoulder. 

Once you win your battle with the small gold hoops, you place the shoes and bag down, “Sorry, I’ll be two minutes, let me just put these on and we’re good to go.”

But before you can sit on the last step of the staircase to buckle your shoes, Sunghoon unbuttons his jacket and kneels, grabbing the shoes and sliding them on your feet. You finally stop for a minute and take in the scene in front of you - he’s so sweet you could melt. 

Sunghoon carefully buckles your heels, trying not to nip your skin. "Are they alright?" he asks, looking up at you. You confirm with a nod, eliciting a slight smile on his face. As he slides his hands over the outside of your legs, he gently kisses the inner area of your calves. He doesn’t know why he does it, it just feels natural to kiss every inch of your body.

He gets back on his feet and leans back to look at you. Even though he had previously seen the dress on you, seeing you in it again with your hair and makeup done and the accessories you selected was a completely other experience, “Wow.”

It’s not what he wanted to say exactly, but it’s all he could at the moment. You had completely blown him away.

Blushing, you push him playfully, taking in his outfit of choice as you do so. He’s wearing a simple black suit with silk trimmings, his lace-up derby shoes match the shininess of yours, and his tie is adorned with a gold Prada tie bar. He did the simplest things to match you without being too obvious about it, and the attention to detail erupted butterflies in your chest.

“You look amazing, Hoonie,” you compliment.

“Don’t I always?” he replies cockily, doing a showman spin so you can see all of his outfit. He’s so silly sometimes it cancels out his arrogance. Buttoning his jacket back up, he holds out his arm for you to take, “Shall we?” 

You take his arm and grin vibrantly at him, shaking your head in agreement. Locking the door behind you, and double checking your purse, you make your way to the venue.

Arriving at the event makes you even more overwhelmed than you thought you would be. It’s just an award ceremony for some uni kids but it looks like the Met Gala. Everyone is dressed to the nines, the atmosphere is filled with excitement and amazement, and you begin to wonder just what it’s like on the inside. 

Sunghoon places his hand on your shoulder to gain your attention, “Are you sure you’re not winning a Grammy or something?” He jokes, unintentionally easing your mind. 

“I know, I can’t believe the city would do this for a couple of students that got high grades.”

In a dubious yet playful tone, he quirked his mouth to the side and asked, "Is that all you are? A student with high grades?" The mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his lips showed his scepticism over your self-deprecation. Did you truly think that’s all you were? “I’d say to be the most exceptional student of the whole of Yonsei, it would go further than just your grades, right?” He massages your shoulder, thumb circling lightly. 

When you look at him, he’s waiting for you to agree with him. You know you’re downplaying it right now, but it’s the only way you might be able to get through the ceremony without vomiting, “Yeah okay, maybe it’s more than that.”

“No, you’re more than that, Sweets.” Why was it even when he was disgustingly cheesy, it made your heart do summersaults, “C’mon, let’s go.” He gets out of the car and rushes to your side to open the door for you. The place had a valet so Sunghoon reluctantly handed the boy his keys, scared for his poor baby.

Walking into the Cathedral was daunting yet exhilarating. The buzz in the air and loud chatter meant your senses didn’t know what to settle on. The inside was beautiful, the architecture old and filled with history, and now you were adding to it in a way, which helps you smile. 

A waiter comes over with champagne on a tray and offers you and Sunghoon one each which you gladly take. You take a sip and savour the fruity taste, Normally, you’re content with a £6 bottle of Echo Falls which doesn’t even truly count as wine never mind champagne, so this is a new experience for you. The drink glides down your throat as you take another swig.

Your date pushes his glass to you, “Here, take this one.”

“Why? Aren’t you having it?” 

“Nah, I don’t drink. Plus, I drove us here.” Sunghoon shrugs and takes the empty glass from your hand, deciding not to comment on how you downed a probably £15 glass of champagne in record time.

You forgot he didn’t drink, so used to everyone around you necking bottles like they were going out of fashion, you are a bit like that too to be fair so you can’t judge them. Even Minhee drank like a fish when he didn’t have training the next morning.

Speaking of Minhee.

“Hey, can you take a picture of me next to the sign?” you point your head towards the grand sign that says ‘25th Annual Crowning Achievement Gala’ in gold writing, weirdly matching your attire.

Sunghoon agrees, stretching out his hand to take your phone, “Does Rina want to see your outfit?”

“No, I promised Mini I would take lots of pictures,” you say nonchalantly, not seeing the way Sunghoon’s expression turns sour. It’s been easy to forget they hate each other since you don’t really bring them up in front of one another.

Adding to his bitterness is the text that conveniently popped up from your brother the exact moment he took your phone. Even his name triggered Sunghoon, not only from their past but because he should be here with you, regardless of circumstances. Sunghoon couldn’t wrap his head around why he wouldn’t just drop everything for you, how his career took prestige over his own little sister. The idea that you aren’t everyone’s first priority makes him sick. He made a vow you would never feel like a second option when you’re with him.

If you could hear the torrent of names and accusations swirling in Sunghoon's mind, it would undoubtedly spark an argument. However, while you couldn't read his thoughts, his facial expressions spoke volumes. “Sunghoon, please. He asked for a picture,” you plead, hoping to diffuse the tension.

“He should have fucking been here,” he seethes, his frustration bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Was he really going to make a scene here and now? Catching the disbelief on your face, he deflates, realizing that this isn’t the appropriate time or place for his outburst. “Sorry, Sweets,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with remorse.

You offer a sarcastic thank you and dutifully pose next to the sign. Sunghoon snaps about 10 different pictures, determined to capture the perfect shot. In his eyes, you look stunning in every single one, but he knows he may be a bit biased.

The bell rings to signal the ceremony is starting and you make your way to the assigned seat. You’re both placed at a round table, big enough to fit 12 people, and in the middle of the table there is a candelabra with flowers at the base and three ice buckets with red and white wine. 

“This is way too fancy for a school award,” The girl beside you whispers, to which you just nod.  As everyone takes their seats, you see Sunghoon pull out your chair for you before sitting on his own. The girl next to you hits her partner and mutters, “Why didn’t you do that for me?”

Sunghoon was a high standard to meet, you knew that. Despite his flaws, he was always gentle with you, raising the bar for your needs more and more. When you eventually find a boy you can be with, he’ll never be on Sunghoon’s level, no one could ever be.

The pain deepens each time you realise that Sunghoon may never be someone you can call yours. 

He reaches over and pours you a white wine, smiling as he does so. One thing you’ve learned about Sunghoon is that he loves to do simple acts of service, and right now he is in his element. Being able to look after you, even in the most simple ways is all he has ever wanted. And since it’s your big night, you’re being more lenient with your rules. He wonders just how far he could push it.

Taking your left hand in his, he intertwines your fingers and brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it softly, “Do you think there’s an overall award? Like, is one of you better than anyone else?” he asks.

“Nah, it would be cruel to make someone an overall winner of a winner. It would take away from the feeling of achievement everyone has,” you look around and see what must be about 90 people. You hadn’t known there were so many universities around the place.

"Yeah, imagine people winning a tournament but still needing to compete again to be the best of the best. I couldn't think of anything worse." Sunghoon gives you a look that asks, ‘Are you aware of who you are speaking to?’ and you realise who you are talking with, Mr. Ice Prince, who is about to compete in Nationals before going on to compete in the Olympics.

The irony was evident, as the person you were expressing this to was thoroughly entrenched in the world of competitive figure skating, which was based on the very idea you found so frustrating. Not that you’re all kumbaya or anything, but it’s a shame that everything in life seems to be a competition.

“How has training been for Nationals?” you ask, focusing on his nose freckle.

“Sweets you come to nearly all my practices, you know it’s going okay,” he eyes you suspiciously, “Wait, was I right the first day I saw you lurking around the ring? Have you made this grand plan to get me whipped for you so you can spy on me?” Sunghoon’s eyebrow raised playfully, “Now you want to sike me out?”

“What? NO!” you proclaim, laughing in disbelief.

“It’s all coming out now, baby, you can’t hide it anymore,” both of you laugh at the thought of an elaborate scheme being the reason he’s sitting beside you right now.

You kiss his hand that’s still tangled with yours, “Hand in hand, I promise I have relayed absolutely nothing to my brother.” 

“Want to tell me what he’s planning then? A flying camel spin? Quad jumps?” Wiggling his brows you let go of his hand a roll your eyes. To be honest, you haven’t seen Minhee’s practice in a while.

Come to think of it, your mum hasn’t pestered you to be there like she normally does. The first few times you missed his practices she reprimanded you, telling you how much missing the training lowers Minhee’s confidence. It’s not that you wanted to miss them, and you tried your hardest to be there, it’s just…you were always with Sunghoon.

The tapping of a mic diverts your attention from your worries to the stage, “Thank you, everyone, for coming. I’m so happy to see so many young talents within our universities, it fills me with pride for this city.” The Chancellor of Education beams with pride.

He continues to ramble on about a bunch of stuff that you couldn't care less about. Your mind is preoccupied with thoughts of the three steps leading up to the stage and how easily you could trip and faceplant in front of everyone here.

A person dressed in an all-black suit comes over and speaks to your table, “Anyone who is receiving an award, please follow me.” Shit. Here you go. 

You look to Sunghoon who smiles reassuringly, “Go get 'em’, Sweets.” his words are less encouraging than you need them to be at this moment, but the pride in his eyes is enough to get you up off your chair and follow the man to the side of the stage.

Sunghoon watches on as you take your place in line. He can tell you’re shitting a brick but he knows you’ll be fine, you always are - you’re tough like that. A proud smile appeared on his face, showing his admiration for you. As you got closer to the stage, the world around him melted away, leaving only the view of you, poised for recognition.

“Your girl is a looker,” One of the guys at the table says, and the others agree, but Sunghoon doesn’t take his eyes off you, scared he’ll miss any part of this.

“She is, isn’t she?” Sunghoon musters up a reply. If he wasn’t so infatuated with you right now he might have told the boy to keep his eyes off you, but he spares him for now.

Unaware of the compliments being whispered about you at the table, you find yourself sweating a little. If this were any other scenario, you would make a joke about how your palms are sweaty, mom’s spaghetti, but this isn’t a laughing matter. 

As tension mounts, you silently reassure yourself that you won't stumble, that everything will be fine, and that it’s just a fleeting moment.

As the chancellor says the names of each student, you’re getting closer and closer to the stage and you start to think how you should have had way more wine to calm you, but then again, more wine equals drunk you, and she isn’t exactly steady on her feet at the best of times.

“Y/N Kang.” 

Oh, that’s me. You think, smiling idly. Oh, fuck that’s me.

Centring yourself, you gracefully make it up the stairs, no accident in sight, and walk to the chancellor and thank him as you accept your award.

“WOO!” 

Turning to glance at your table, you notice Sunghoon standing up, clapping and smiling broadly, his canines on full display as he makes a fuss over you and shouts your name. He begins to fist-pump the air, and everyone laughs, including you. As you place a hand over your mouth, your cheeks turn crimson not only from embarrassment but also from happiness. 

The warm glow of the stage lights framed you, creating an illuminating aura around your body. Sunghoon couldn't help but congratulate himself on tricking you into allowing him to buy you the dress you're currently wearing.

You bow to the committee and hurry down the stairs, ready for the spotlight to be off you and on literally anyone else but that isn’t the case. All eyes are on you, happy faces greet you from every table as if they have known you for years, and all you can do is thank them in passing, desperate to get to Sunghoon.

Approaching the table, Sunghoon holds his hand out to stop you, and you pause in place, confused. He picks your phone up and swipes open the camera app, “Pose with your prize, Sweets.”

Obliging, you do a multitude of poses, some silly and some you could actually put on your Instagram. Once he’s satisfied, Sunghoon ushers you towards him, picking you up and spinning you around a few times, “So, so proud of you, Y/N.” Gently, his mouth meets yours as he sets you down, “So fucking proud of you, you have no idea.” his whispered affirmations of pride bring a few tears to your eyes but you blink them back. 

Just like before, he pulls your seat out for you as you sit back down and congratulate the other winners at your table. You miss the way he gazed at you with a softness in his eyes that spoke volumes, an unspoken language of affection and warmth. His gaze followed the contours of your face, fixating on every detail as though he were memorising it. 

He passes you the phone so you can take more pictures of your award to send to Minhee. Sunghoon doesn’t mean to read the messages between you both but he can see how he misjudged Minhee a little.

Mini &lt;3

8:23pm Look! It’s so pretty

3 images attached

8:24pm: Bubs you look amazing?!? 

8:24pm: When did my sister get so pretty?

8:24pm: I wish I was there :( 

8:24pm: I know :( Me too

8:24pm: Better come next time!

8:25pm: Never missing anything again

8:25pm: Love you, I couldn’t be prouder.

8:25pm: Keep me updated!

“Hoonie, let’s get a picture together, hmm?” You haven’t ever taken a picture with him before, possibly because it’s an unspoken rule, but you can’t pass the opportunity up - not when you both look so good.

Shuffling his chair a little so he can be behind you, he leans forward, almost resting his chin on your shoulder before you snap a pic. You take a few, most of them just smiling from a different angle, that is before Sunghoon presses his lips to your cheek and closes his eyes. Closing your eyes with him, you take the picture quickly.

“Ah! It’s so pretty.” You squeal, reviewing the pictures. A serene moment filled with the tenderness of your connection unfolds as his lips find the slope of your shoulder. Sunghoon puckers his mouth and gives you a delicate kiss while his eyes focus on the photo you’re showing him, “Do you like it?”

He turns your face to look at him and whispers, "I love it." Sunghoon's gaze expressed a language deeper than the words, a confession he knows he can't make out loud, not yet, He encloses your lips in his, pouring his feelings into you the best he can. 

It was as if this award ceremony wasn’t happening because you don’t even realise all the awards have been handed out and there’s a band making their way to the stage, both of you are too engrossed in one another. The band plays songs typical of these kinds of events, renditions of pop songs, and some classics to get people dancing. 

As the night progresses, the table you're at empties, but you and Sunghoon remain seated, immersed in conversation about everything and anything. He's removed his jacket and hung it over the chair; his sleeves are rolled up and his tie is loose, reflecting how long you've been getting familiar with each other. You didn’t think there was anything left you could know about him after spending almost 2 months with him, but you were wrong.

As you nurse your second glass of wine, you ask him the most important question of the evening.

“Do you think aliens will come and take over the world?”

Sunghoon laughs out loud, looking at you dotingly, “What? Like right now?” he twirls a piece of your hair framing your face.

“Nah not now, but like in the future. Like some War of the Worlds shit.”

“Oh so not like little green dudes?” He asks and you shake your head assuringly, “Good, because it was hard enough batting every guy at this table tonight off of you, never mind Martians with superpowers. I don’t stand a chance there.”

You laugh for the nth time, “None of them were even looking at me.”

“Yeah, because I gave them all my signature death stare to stop looking at my girl,” he points two fingers to his eyes and imitates a stern expression. 

“Ah, but see, I’m not your girl,” you lean back in your chair and cross one leg over the other, “You’re forgetting that.”

His expression shifted, becoming more earnest, "You could be..." he replied, his gaze holding a sincerity that belied the playfulness of the banter. The words are spoken with true intent, leaving a pause in the air as he looks for any response on your face.

“Hoonie-”

“I know - Minhee, and your devoted loyalty to him - but you know this is more than what we’re calling it, so why don’t we just call it like it is?” he pleads, slouching forward to take your hands in his, “We can still keep it a secret, we don’t have to tell him.”

“But he said no dating, that’s the whole point of us being in this sort of relationship,” you remind him of the loophole he had found in Minhee’s words that eased your guilt.

“Sweets, no offence but if you don’t feel guilty now, you won’t if I call you my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. 

He skipped the whole dating idea and just jumped straight to relationship status. But he’s right because technically you have been dating for almost 2 months, just never calling it that for your own peace of mind. You never intended to fall headfirst for Sunghoon, or maybe you did. 

You can’t deny the gravitational pull you both have towards one another, that instant connection from the night he kissed you for the first time. Of course, it’s complicated, what with Minhee’s feelings involved, but maybe you should give in and see what happens.

You suck in a breath, your inner turmoil threatening to overwhelm you, "If we’re still keeping it a secret, and everything is still the same between us, why do we need to label it?"

He kisses your hands tenderly, his touch soothing, "Well, we can finally get rid of those fucking rules that neither of us cared about in the first place. I can take you out and proudly call it a date, and shower you with gifts as your man," Sunghoon's gaze shifts from your hands to your eyes, his expression earnest, "And I get to proudly call you mine, for as long as you’ll have me."

The sensation of his lips against your skin sends tingles down your spine, and his words ease the weight of your unspoken desires. It would be a relief to just be with him, but could your mind ever silence the guilt?

“Y/N, listen to me,” he turns deadly serious, a little annoyed at how much Minhee is having a say in this without even uttering a word, “Minhee is a grown man, he will get over it. He won’t hate you, he loves you too much for that. Will he be a little angry at the beginning? Sure, but that won’t last, okay? He does not own you, nor can he tell you who you can and cannot date,” he begs you to see his point of view, “Please just be with me.”

You feel the weight of his words in your chest. Sunghoon hasn’t ever led you wrong so far, so why would he now? Minhee would get over it because, at the end of the day, that’s your brother, the same brother that used to plat your hair when it got in your way, and the same brother who protected you from any hurt when your parents split, hugging you through the shouting. He wouldn’t abandon you so easily.

Sunghoon watches as his words calm you down, and a glimmer of hope punches his heart.

“We still keep it a secret, I can’t tell him just yet. We’ll do it after Nationals.” You tell him a matter of fact.

Nodding understandingly, he reaches for your face, “Yeah, anything you want, Sweets. We’ll do it all at your pace.” This is everything he’s ever wanted, the opportunity to call you his girl, and now that it’s finally here, he feels like he’s the one who won something tonight, “So?”

“So?” You repeat.

“Are you mine? Officially?” he knows the answer, he just wants to hear you say it out loud.

“I’m yours, Hoonie.” 

Dramatically, he lets go of you and sinks into his chair, face etched in glee and relief, it’s a dream come true to have you say those words and he thinks he might pass out. Placing one hand over his heart he breathes out a quiet ‘thank fuck for that’, making you giggle.

A teasing smile tugged at the edges of your lips, and your eyes twinkled with affection, “You’re so silly.” you grab his hand from his heart and replace it with yours, patting it softly. The simple gesture has his face splitting with a grin and his eyes closing.

“My girlfriend,” he whispers to himself but you hear it, your brain dizzying at the thought. He starts to sit up, “My princess, my baby, my angel.” Grabbing your face he kisses you all over like he’s leaving little sprinkles of affection anywhere he can, “Fuck those stupid rules, I’m calling you whatever I want, buying you whatever I want, having sex with you wherever I want.”

“Uh, didn’t you do that anyway?” you say between titters.

“Yeah, but now I don’t have to have your beautiful, perfect, eyes glaring at me every time I do.” Maybe you were a little harsh on him, considering you broke a lot of them multiple times too, “Promise me you won’t back out of this, baby.”

The petname falls just as easily as his nickname for you. Secretly, you hope he doesn’t stop calling you Sweets because even though you don’t know why he does it, it’s his thing for you and you love it, “I promise. And if I feel myself doubting or thinking about how Minhee will feel, I’ll talk to you about it first,” you say this because Sunghoon is the only one that can get you out of your previous mindset, he proved that tonight.

Resting his forehead against yours, Sunghoon looks directly into your eyes, “Good. Because I’m yours and I won’t let him ruin this for us. I don’t care.”

“Me either.” And you truly mean it.

The sound of glasses being collected and chairs stacked upon one another makes you retreat from him and look up. The event had been over for a hot minute, only you, Sunghoon, and a few drunken mothers who can’t get up off the dance floor are left in the grand hall.

You check your phone and see it’s almost 3am, “Shit, we better go.” 

Sunghoon peers at the clock on his watch and a pout forms on his lips, “We didn’t even get to dance.”

“Eh, whatever, we can do that whenever we like now.” You cheekily remark, turning his sullen expression into one of amazement. You can tell he still doesn’t really believe it.

“Please tell me you don’t have to go home tonight?” He asks.

Shaking your head you stand up, putting things back into your bag, “No, I told Minhee and Mum I would be staying at Rina’s so I don’t wake them up.”

“Great.” He slings your bag over his shoulder and grabs your award before he lifts you up, earning a yelp from you but he doesn’t acknowledge it, instead opting to squeeze your ass with his free hand and keep his grip there to ensure you don’t fall.

“Hoonie, what are you doing?” You laugh, securing your legs and arms around him.

“What does it look like? I’m going home so I can fuck my award-winning girlfriend.” 

______

Sunghoon pushes you into his flat as he kisses you passionately, his mouth never leaving yours even when he unlocks the door and slams it shut behind him. You’re just as needy for him, pulling at his tie to drag him into the bedroom that you know your way to oh, so well.

Despite the urgency in both of your bodies, he places your award gently on his desk, sure to not break it. You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less, you need him more than a glass trophy. You begin to practically climb his tall figure, seeking any sort of sexual relief. 

He knew you couldn’t wait for him when you were kissing him at every traffic light and had his belt unbuckled before he even made it out of the car. He was honestly surprised you didn’t try to suck him off while he was driving. 

You began to strip him of his tie and shirt, fumbling with his buttons all the way down, “Easy, baby, you have me.” He reassures you, but there isn’t any stopping you tonight, you’re on a high like no other. You just got a boyfriend, got acknowledged for all your hard work in uni, and now you’re going to fuck until the sun comes up, what’s not to love about your life right now? 

Without you even noticing, he unties the bow behind your neck and pulls it down, exposing your erect nipples. Sleeking his hands down from your neck to your tits, he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, pinching every so often to send a jolt through your body and down to your sex.

Pushing, you guide him to the bed until he collapses on it, a quiet ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the force. Sunghoon wasn’t necessarily prepared for you to be so in control but he won’t complain, how could he when you were climbing onto him, tits dangling in front of him like tempting raindrops and he’s been in the desert, thirsty for them. 

He sits up, chest at eye level as he licks up the curve of your right breast, teasing you. You’re hands run through his hair, pushing his bangs back so you can get a good look at his face. He has the same bright look he always does when he gets to play with your tits, it would actually be quite sweet if you both weren’t about to perform a sinful act.

Flickering his eyes up to you, he smirks, taking your nipple into his mouth finally twirling his tongue around it hungrily. The way he keeps staring into your eyes as he sucks your tit has you breathing out slowly and your chest moving heavily. 

Once his teeth sink into you, your eyes shut and your head falls back. His sharp teeth gently tug at your nub, then licking it softly - he alternates between the nip and pleasure his mouth is giving you.

Deciding enough is enough, you pull his face away, watching as he goes to go right back to it; if it wasn’t for the grip you had on him, he would have, “Please don’t stop me,” He whines, his eyes looking at you, a drip of begging splashing around in his iris.

“Do you want to suck my tits, or fuck me?” You pose.

Sunghoon doesn’t have to think about it, he knows exactly what the answer is. Curling his arms behind you, he zips down your dress as it sits at the bottom of your spine, using the opportunity to kiss the valley of your breasts. He bunches up the material and lifts it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

His jaw nearly hits the floor as he sees the white mesh thong tilted on your waist, “Fuck,” He can’t believe you had that under the dress the whole time and he’s only getting to see it now.

You wouldn’t normally wear white with a black dress but it’s his favourite colour on you which you discovered recently. One night you wore his white t-shirt to bed and he couldn’t stop looking at you, his hands all over you the second he saw you adorned in it. 

“They’re cute, right?” You were proud of your purchase before but now seeing his reaction, you were more than pleased with yourself.

“Baby, did you buy them for me?” He licks his lips, the corners of his lips tugging up as he runs his middle finger along your clothed slit, dipping it to pull the underwear closer to him. It gives him the chance to see just how wet you are, the patch darkening the material.

Nodding your head, you reply, “All for you, Hoonie” Your voice comes out more seductive than you mean to but it only fuels his fire more. 

You bite your finger and smile down, acting bashful but he sees right through it, knowing you’re enjoying how he’s reacting to you, “I’ve hit the fucking jackpot with you,” He confesses, still eyeing your cunt.

It makes you giddy how easily he says things like that, as if it comes so naturally to him to compliment you or make you feel like you’re the only girl he’s ever looked at. 

To Sunghoon, you might as well be the only woman on the planet, he doesn’t care about any of the others, not when you’re here gracing this earth. Your laugh, your smile, your body, your ability to inject him with a new lease of life, why would he ever need to look at anyone else?

“Are you just going to stare?” You lean down to his ear, “Or are you going to fuck your girlfriend?” 

He almost cums, your words shooting down to his dick and making it throb. You’re his girlfriend. He won’t ever get used to it, dreaming about it so long he thought that’s all it would be, a distant dream. When you said you would be his, his heart could have vomited.

Grabbing your waist, he flips you over, his expression is menacing which means you’re in for the time of your life. Your boyfriend captures your lips with his, hands roughly grabbing at your sides and hips. 

With whatever of your concentration isn’t on his tongue in your mouth, you undo his trousers and push them down with your feet, dragging his boxers down in the process. All that’s left on him is his white shirt but you don’t want to get rid of that just yet. The way it’s lazily hanging off his shoulders makes him look like those slutty little white tunics in period dramas. 

Sunghoon’s mouth moves from your lips to your jaw and down your neck, suckling the base of your neck which he knows gets you a moaning mess. 

True to his knowledge, you mewl out, tilting your head to encourage him more. 

His hands slither down to your thong, playing with it a little to tease you and fill you with anticipation. As he pushes the material away, exposing your folds, he looks down, “You’re so ready for me, Sweets, don’t you think?” He slides two of his fingers in between your pussy, quickly dipping them in and out with ease before offering them to your lips/

Without hesitation, you accept his silent invitation, sucking his fingers clean, never stopping your intense gaze into his eyes. 

The way you know what he wants without him having to vocalise it just makes him even more desperate for you. He presses his fingers against your tongue, causing you to open your mouth, “Stick it out for me,” Sunghoon asks, eyes clouded with lust.

As you stick your tongue out, he retracts his fingers, delving to lick your tongue, “You taste so good, baby,” he licks your tongue once more before committing to the kiss you’ve been craving.

Desperately, you grab his cock and pump him, your hand inadvertently skimming past your clit in the prosses due to how close his body is to yours. 

The sudden touch from you shocks Sunghoon but what really sends him reeling is your thumb rubbing over his head, circling the tip with pressure, “Jesus Christ,” he huffs out breathlessly, his hips bucking into your palm, hoping for more delicious release from your grip. 

His hot breath hits your face as he pants, only making you more eager to please him. Bringing your hips up, you trap his cock between your slit and palm, rubbing both against his shaft, the heat of your pussy contradicts the coldness of your hand, making Sunghoon’s brain fry.

Your fingers push him to sit neatly in your folds, however, when you thrust your hips up again, the pressure makes the head of his cock dip into your entrance, causing you both to moan loudly.

“Sweets, let me put on a condom,” he swallows, managing to choke out the words amidst his desire. He shakes his head trying to bring himself to a rational state but as you dip him in again, he can only groan, “Fuck.”

“We don’t need one,” you assert, shallowly fucking yourself on the first 2 inches of his cock, “I want to feel my boyfriend.”

Your words hang in the air but none of you stop your actions, not even pretending to think about it. Sunghoon nudges your nose with his, “You sure?”

“I’m positive, baby,” you whisper into his mouth, sharing your wants with him. You’re both too far gone into one another that none of you have the common sense to say no.

The man above you nods, placing two tiny kisses on your lips while his hips move with the pressure of your hand, “I’ll pull out, I promise,” he has never given you a reason to distrust his promises and you won't start now.

He captures your lips in a searing kiss with a low growl as you push more of him inside you. To be fair, the feeling isn’t that much different from when he wears condoms, the thin feel condoms he buys, he buys for a reason.

But this wasn’t about feeling his cock raw, it was about connecting with him just that little bit more, about showing your trust in him. 

The head of his cock slowly hits you deeper, each time he jerks his hips into you, he penetrates deeper inside. The feel of your naked walls on his bell feels unreal, the way each bump scrapes his tender tip makes him groan, his head buried into your neck to muffle his sounds.

“You feel so good, Hoonie,” With his cock now fully inside you, your fingertips graze up his tensing toned stomach and around to his back, caressing him gently, “Faster, please,” you ask as your hands slide to his ass, pushing down rhymically to set him at a new pace.

Sunghoon loves when you subtly take control, still letting him be the one to fuck you so good you see stars while telling him how to get you there. He can read your body so well but that doesn’t mean you can’t tell him what else you need from him.

Lifting your bottom half, he holds your hips and pounds into you the way you want, the velocity of his thrusts sends your eyes to the back of your head. You can’t help but moan his name loudly, chanting it like you’re possessed, “Sunghoon, shit, don’t stop.”

He chuckles, looking down at you, “You’re mad if you think I ever would.”

Shuffling so your butt is balancing on his thighs, he bucks up into you with the same speed but now he’s using one of his free hands to rub your clit, adding a new layer of intensity, “Holy fuck,” You thrash under him as your nub tingles at his touch.

Your words provide him with all the encouragement he needs to give you even more, “You’re so good at taking me, Sweets. Look how good you are,” He entices you to look down but you stop as you finally look at his face; the sweat dripping from his forehead, some of it collected in the creases of his brows as he scrunches his face, focused only on fucking you into heaven. His mouth is hanging open, pushing out short breaths to mirror the movement of his hips.

He’s so deliciously hot.

If your pussy could actually purr, it would be, but instead, it’s clenching to show that you’re close. The tightness doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who smirks, looking at you with hooded eyes, “You gonna cum, baby?” 

Sunghoon’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he flicks your clit faster, trying to get you closer to the edge. This will be the first time he’s experiencing you cumming on his raw cock, so he’s a little impatient, desperate to know what your core feels like as it grips him naked.

“Hoon..Hoonie..” your heartbeat is rapidly increasing in your chest but your breathing is slowing down, a clear indicator that you’re coming undone, “I’m cumming, fuck, I’m cumming.”

“Yeah, you are, sweetheart” Sunghoon has to control himself but it’s painfully difficult as he feels your walls clamp down and contract on his member. He’s so engrossed in the feeling of you that he keeps going, pressing your stomach down with his arm to stop you from escaping and slipping off him.

His thumb goes hard at your swollen bud, the fast sensation causing you to try and pull away. It feels like you’re on fire but Sunghoon has no desire to stop. He physically can’t, you feel too good, the squirming of your hips mixed in with your walls hugging him, there was no way he could give it up just yet.

You choke on the air you're actively trying to get into your lungs as your boyfriend overstimulates you.  It’s painful, yet, you’re begging for it not to stop.

“Oh my god, Hoon.” your voice is sore from all the moaning and dry mouth you have.

“I’m nearly there, Sweets. Fuck, I’m so close.” Now that he’s seeking his own release, he switches his position, opting to have you as close to him as possible. With the little strength he has left, he hugs your body and scoops you to sit fully on his cock, tits bouncing in his face as he guides you up and down his shaft, “Y/N, can you keep it clenched for me? Please?” The please comes out as a whispered beg.

Nodding, you gather your focus to your pussy and squeeze him and it’s like you’re suddenly seeing stars, his cock sloppily hitting your g-spot over and over thanks to the newfound tightness.

Shutting his eyes to truly envelope himself in the feel of you, his stomach tightens, balls throbbing as he stops himself from cumming, “Fuck, wait,” he abruptly lifts you off him, the last drag of his head against your squeezed hole has ropes of his cum shooting up as high as your breasts, “Y/N, shit, Jesus.”

You stare at his cock as it keeps unloading between you both, creating a sticky mess on both of your bodies. It’s always so beautiful to see him cum like this, although usually it’s on your face after you’ve given him a blow job. 

Both of you are equally spent, panting filling the otherwise silent room. You revel in the aftermath of the ecstasy, the air thick with the scent of your combined essence.

As the waves of pleasure gradually ebb away, you feel contentment wash over your body and mind, eliciting a smile from you. This was truly the best night of your life.

Sunghoon’s eyes drag up your body as he notices the cum splattered on your tits, “Fucking hell, look at you,” his tone is saturated in awe and delight as he drinks you in. Honestly, he didn’t know he could shoot that far; he’ll have to give himself a pat on the back later for creating the masterpiece in front of him.

Swiftly, he brings his mouth back to your tit, licking the cum from you and your eyes widen in shock. Guys don’t tend to even want to kiss you if you’ve swallowed their cum, never mind cleaning it off your body. 

Truthfully, Sunghoon isn’t in his right mind just yet, still clouded with lust, aching for any sort of contact with you. Your tits are all he sees.

“Sunghoon?” you try to bring him back but it doesn’t work, you’ll need to physically drag him away from your chest. Cupping his face, you bring him to level with you again, “You okay?”

“I need you so fucking much,” he whispers, his lips seeking yours in a tender kiss.

Your laughter dances between you, "You just had me," you tease, the warmth of his lips against yours sparking a playful energy between you.

But his next words sober the moment, revealing a depth of feeling that leaves you breathless. "No, like in every sense, I fucking need you. I can't imagine even breathing without you," he admits, his vulnerability laid bare in the afterglow of the moment.

Moved by Sunghoon's heartfelt confession, you feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. With an adoring smile, you caress his cheek, your touch a silent reassurance of your love for him.

"I need you too, Sunghoon," you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath against his lips. "More than anything.” It’s a simple mirror of his words, but you hope he knows you truly mean it.

To be frank, even if you had just said ‘ditto’ back, he would have been content. There are feelings for you so deep routed into his soul that he’s terrified and excited all at once.

And you’re all his.

“My girlfriend,” he beams, finally coming out of his lust coma, “You’re mine.”

His words strike a chord deep inside you, creating an overwhelming feeling of belonging and security that wraps around your heart like a warm embrace. With a delicate grin, you return his adoration, your fingers tracing soft patterns along his jawline as you enjoy the tenderness of his affection for you.

"I'm yours, Hoonie," you say quietly your voice full of reverence, "Until you want to get rid of me."

Kissing your palm, he smirks, trailing all the way up your arm and along your shoulder, “I’m literally never letting you go, I’m sorry,” his eyes shine a playful glint as he peppers kisses along your face, “That also means right now.”

He quickly pushes you back into the mattress, both of you laughing as he softly kisses your nose; nevertheless, you know the gentleness will fade as soon as he realises he hasn't even eaten you yet. It’s not in him not to devour your pussy.

You can only sigh in satisfaction as he runs his lips down your stomach.

This is everything you’ve ever wanted. He is everything you’ve ever wanted.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

[thecameronchronicles]

Collateral

TW: DarkRafe! Rough Sex. Dominance. Degrading Language. Public sex. Language. Smut. 

SUMMARY: Following the events of Rafe getting scorched by Barry after he’d taken his bike as collateral for an unpaid debt, he sets his sights on you to get even in the only way he knows how…

WORD COUNT: 1600

*Requested*

Collateral

Love was messy. Sex was fun. This is all you needed to know and it was exactly what Barry gave you. You always got exactly what you were looking for when coming to him, leaving as a satisfied customer, parting with a kiss and a lingering promise of a return. Without strings or expectations, it was perfect to rival the existence of your otherwise tainted heart. 

Finishing yet another exchange of afternoon delight, coming down from a high first intercepted when you’d arrived by his generous use of marijuana you were granted from his attempts at being chivalrous, you prepared to leave his trailer before feeling him take hold of your wrist. 

“Always here when you need another hit, Prada-” This was the name he had given you due to having first met draped in the designer brand; everything from your perfume to your shoes, and it simply stuck. You grinned at how it offered a bit of sweetness to your exchange, just the right amount of being personal without actual emotion complicating what this was; drugs with benefits. You leaned upwards, offering one final kiss before turning to leave. 

“Hey…” A voice pulled your focus from the collection of keys tangled in their multitude of one too many keychains. As your eyes pulled upwards to meet with none other than Rafe Cameron. His identity was anything but a mystery as you'd seen him linger for his own fix every so often as you would be wrapped around Barry. But you’d never spoken more than a glance to one another, and even that was fleeting as you only ever saw him as a mindless, trust fund kid working out his cocaine frustrations one line at a time-dare you say, even timid.

How wrong you were…

“Can I-uh, give you a ride?” He offered, motioning to the bike set at his back, its recently charged engine still humming as you held up your keys, hoping this would serve as your polite rejection. But in your attempts to move to the car stationed just off center of the front of the trailer, he’d collect your wrist. 

“Wasn’t a request…”

“Let go of me-” 

“You see, your boyfriend decided to take something of mine,” There was something almost erotic in the flames behind his eyes as he spoke to you, you couldn’t help but admire it as you knew the same burned behind yours on occasion. And yet, you knew where Barry was inconsequential, someone like Rafe Cameron was anything but. 

“And now I intend to take what’s his-”

“Sorry to disappoint you, But I’m nobody’s-” He took a step closer, taking your jaw within his hand before walking you to the hood of your own car, pushing you down against it as you’d made note of the burn mark, still fresh, on his left wrist. You recalled Barry telling you about this and how it was debt paid with interest still waiting to be received, but you never imagined it would ever involve you., 

“Wrong again. Right now, you’re my whore-” You were turned against the hood, bent over, with his leg between your own to keep you from running away while he forced you down by a hand to the back of your neck, fingers eating painfully so into your skin as you grunted. 

“Got a pretty smart mouth…Be good and it’ll get to stay pretty,” He threatened, leaving a sense of ambiguity if this meant disfigurement or using it for his cock, but either way, frightening you enough to stay silent. 

“Did you let him come inside of you?” You kept silent, not wanting to endorse his actions while also not wanting to anger him as you were well aware he was able to use you as he saw fit, something validated in how you were unable to move less than five seconds after an unofficial first interaction.

“That’s fine, I’ll find out for myself-” He removed his knee to investigate your core, allowing you the chance to take your body weight upwards and slip from his grasp. 

But he was swift, managing to take you back under his thrall, with a chuckle of mischief no less, before taking you back towards the car. But without the ability to pin you against anything, he was left struggling to keep you behaved, not that he had expected you to be. Because of this, he’d decide to surprise you into submission, taking you against him with a passionate kiss that made you temporarily breathless. 

As much as you wanted to hate him and curse him from beneath his actions, you couldn’t deny how this brazen action was arousing to a fault. For just a moment, you’d reciprocated, the full need behind his kiss keeping you there, as it was all he needed to use it against you. 

“I knew it…No way he could fuck you like I could…” He scoffed, lifting you off of your feet by wrapping you against him and moving you back to the hood of the car. 

“He wants to take my bike, I’m gonna fuck his girl-fair’s fair…” He seemed to speak more to himself than to you, either way, a comment which would be left lingering in the air, before you were undressed, more willing than not, which was infuriating for your morality. But what you expected to find in trembling fingers and a novice lover was rivaled with possession and necessity brought to you in such a way that you never knew you needed until now. It was noted by him in the flickers of excitement behind your gaze and weakening reservation-all he needed to continue. 

“You gonna take my cock like a good fucking slut and go back to him dripping with me and MAYBE I’ll let you come-” He explained, bringing a slap to your ass as you winced, half aroused and half in pain as he was cruel, compassion existing only in a distant regret of having not done this when he’d seen you sooner. 

“You’re gonna be so fucking sore-” He muttered, unlatching his belt and sheathing himself in to you, enough lubrication to keep you from belting out in pain from his initial actions, but his thrusts bottoming out inside leaving you clawing at the hood of your car. 

“Fuck, baby-he’s not taking care of you, is he? You’re so desperate for it and you don’t even know me…” He laughed. 

“But you’ll know my cock by the time I’m done with you-” Another slap to your ass brought another gasp as he took your chin and bent you backwards until he could tower over you. 

“Open-” He spoke quickly, winded from his own thrusts as you obliged, too overtaken with lust to care. After all, you belonged to nobody but yourself and Rafe was another distraction you could allow from your own trials and tribulations. A very BIG and thorough distraction at that…

“Tongue out, bitch, come on.” A spurt of saliva was projected into your mouth once you’d obeyed, his grip pulling even tighter in your acquiescence. 

“Swallow. I want him to taste ME on EVERY part of you-” He grunted, releasing your hair and altering his focus to your neck, cutting off your oxygen as he saw you smile in the glass before you. 

“Yeah, you like being fucked like this, don’t you? You like that anyone can see how good you take it?” You felt him choke you even sharper, enough to bring stars behind your eyes as you nodded. 

“Dirty whore…” He shook his own head, returning to his thrusts before quickening them, making you tremble before withdrawing. 

“I want you to see how good you take it…” You were taken on your back, legs pulled to his waist as he aligned himself inside of you once again. But he wasn’t quick in these plummets. Instead, he’d thrust once and pull back everything but the tip as his other hand took your hair to guide you upwards. 

“See how fucking wet you are! See how badly you needed me?” Your mouth came open in silent moans, the sensations, the eroticims, the borderline exhibitionsim having left you on the verge of your own high. 

“Watch it!” He ordered as your eyes sprung open, fluttering against the fight to close from how deep he had been inside of you. Your nails reached to his stomach, leaving claw marks behind as he’d now resume his pace.

“He bigger than me, baby? Huh? He make you arch your back and cry like this?” He questioned, weighing himself down onto your torso as you shook your head.

“Don’t tell me-Tell him! Fuckin’ tell him!” 

“YOU!”

“Not my name, baby-come on, you aren’t THAT stupid…”

“Rafe!”

“Who?!”

“YOU RAFE, GOD, YOU!” He chuckled before fading into an expression of pleasure, your clenching having been too much for him to endure without expulsion, his warm excess in spurts as he finalized these motions before releasing your hair, turning back to find Barry standing in the threshold of his screen door. 

“Now we’re even-” Without a word, you were left suddenly parted from Rafe, your body in need of a release he refused to give as you watched him leave the scene with a sinister smirk, a signature of sorts before taking his departure. 

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost

[itstimetodrew]

ohhhh in that case please tell me about ur fav poke gen and why :)

Predictably it’s Hoenn!!!

Ironically I completely missed Gen 3 when it was current though. (I was too busy with Yugioh and Tokyo Mew Mew as a kid but came right back to Pokemon as Drew let the door hit him on the way out and DP started, go figure 😔)

I think overall it just hits a perfect stride of building and improving upon the earlier generations but still having a strong sense of identity to it. For the games and the anime! For me, the Pokémon designs are a sweet spot of being creative and recognizable without being too simplistic or overdesigned. The region overall has a charming and laidback atmosphere to it that just fills me with love for the Nature and Possibilities.

And the battle frontier! Berries! contests! (Personally, I think Hoenn had a benefit in introducing contests because they just come off as an exciting new challenge For Everyone, where I feel some other gens contest-like things come across as a lesser, “girly” side quests. I guess like the vibe of a dog show vs a beauty pageant? It’s hard to explain. But knowing both forms of competition take skill and practice but there’s a big divide in how they’re marketed and perceived idk)

That sort of blends into why I like the AG characters too, May has such an amazing arc and is treated as a solid co-protagonist! Her rivals are all so interesting and surprisingly fleshed out in hindsight too! (but that could be the years of picking apart dialogue and individual frames talking lol) Overall I love the dynamic of May and Max and Ash and Brock. They’re a bit of a mess but so genuine and likable as a group 😭

Lots of truth in the trend that whatever gen you like best is probably the one when you were 8-11 years old but oh well! Hoenn has so much going for it, it’s always the top choice in my soul

[meltwonu]

21. “First one to make a noise loses.”

62. “I think that’s the first time i’ve heard you moan…it was like a fucking melody.”

notes; actor!scoups, actress!reader, cocky!scoups, dirty talk, degradation, rivals/enemies!au, cockwarming, lots of banter hehehe~ HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!! ✨💕❤️‍🔥🌸💐 I forgot to post my updated schedule so that’s gonna go up tomorrow instead kjdkjs sorry 😭 I always get busy when I least expect it and that’s been so often lately lol… ☠️ bUT ANYWAY who else to write about except the biggest dick man himself mr seungcheol for valentines day heh~ 🥳😗 Thank you so much for requesting, as always! Enjoy! 💕 

*queued post.

“There is not a kissing scene in this.”

“There is. Four of them to be precise.” Seungcheol grins.

You grit your teeth - eyes on your manager and Seungcheol’s as they both gulp.

“And the two of you agreed?” They nod shakily - both Seungkwan and Seokmin sharing a quick, nervous glance before they both open their mouths at the same time.

“We t-thought it’d be good for your careers!” They reply at the same time.

Seungcheol laughs, head thrown back against the sofa as you brood alone.

You had tons of kissing scenes in movies and tv shows, but none of them ever included Seungcheol; someone who you considered your rival in the industry.

He was good at what he did and so were you - which is why you sometimes found yourself losing gigs and deals to him when the production staff would pick him over you. But it was a two way street and Seungcheol would sometimes also find himself in the same position when you’d get selected instead of him.

“I–we, um, y’know, because the two of you are–are really up on top of it right now,” Seungkwan starts, “The two of you are booked and busy and–and really, just, y’know, it would just benefit the two of you so much!”

Seokmin nods feverishly as he agrees, “The biggest fan bases and the best reception from the media, it’d be a hit just having the two of you in the same show!”

You grit your teeth again - they were right even if you hated to admit it.

“Can you give us some time to discuss this? Alone.” Sighing, you run a hand through your hair as Seungcheol nods.

“How about you get us some lunch, Seungkwan? Put it on my card. It’s the least I can do for the ‘lil princess here~”

The two get up before they hear anything else; both of them just glad to be out of the room before the two of you potentially start arguing.

And once the door clicks shut, it’s only a matter of seconds before you’re climbing into Seungcheol’s lap - hands at the collar of his shirt as he grins up at your flustered face.

“Ah, well, we should get to discussing then, huh?”

“We’re supposed to only have a kissing scene, yet look at you~”

Your jaw clenches as you sit atop Seungcheol’s lap - his cock already sheathed inside your warmth as you sit and cockwarm him. “You can pretend to hate me all you want, but every time I’ve fucked you, it’s always the best fuck you ever get, isn’t it?”

“S–shut up, asshole…”

You bite down on your bottom lip, holding in your noises but you can’t help but let out a small, airy moan when the head of his cock nudges your sweet spot when you shift slightly.

“Oh? I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you moan… It was like a fucking melody~ You’re always too fuckin’ busy complaining or keeping in those noises, baby~ Let them out, I wanna hear how cute you sound when you’re getting my cock.”

“F–fuck you, I–I rather go f-fuck your manager…”

The shit-eating grin on Seungcheol’s face leaves and is replaced with a scowl; his grip on your waist tightening as he slowly readjusts and jostles you slightly.

“Oh? You think Seungkwan can fuck you this good, huh? He’s too soft, baby. We both know how rough you like it~ You like it when I treat you like my ‘lil fucktoy, don’t you? You’ll never beg but I know just how you like being under me~”

He uses his strength to lift your body up slightly - guiding you and thrusting up into you while simultaneously tugging you down towards himself.

“Fuh–fuck…!”

The head of his cock slams into your g-spot with each thrust and you can’t help but bite down harder onto your bottom lip as Seungcheol laughs.

“Awww, you’re so cute. You really don’t wanna give in, do you? You’re always the same~ You should switch it up, baby~ How else are you gonna grow in your career, hmm?”

The slight dig at your career makes you growl - walls clamping down onto Seungcheol’s cock hard as he grits his teeth.

“Much like how you had to do a lot of growing, yourself, huh, ‘Cheol? You would know~” You lick your lips, head thrown back as he tugs you down and halts his movements. 

“I’d watch my tongue if I were–”

KNOCK KNOCK

“Seungcheol, I got lunch! Are you guys okay?” 

Seungkwan’s voice is muffled through the door; the doorknob rattling before Seokmin’s voice joins in. “You guys a-aren’t arguing, right?” 

You peer down at Seungcheol - the lust in your eyes just as obvious as Seungcheol’s as he licks his lips and smirks up at you.

“We’re fine. Just discussing some of the scenes before we agree to it. It’ll be, like, 15 more minutes? Can you leave the food in the other room and we’ll be there soon?” 

“Okay! Don’t take too long!”

You hear their footsteps getting quieter and quieter and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

“And? Now what? You think you can get me to cum in that short of time? I’ll probably have to finish the job myself, to be honest.” You retort - already trying to pry his hands off of your waist to get dressed instead of finishing.

“Who says I can’t?”

He lifts your body once again; slamming you down onto his cock as you let out a surprised mewl.

“I would’ve said, ‘first one to make a noise, loses.’ but, ah, with the way I’m about to fuck you I already know it’s going to be you, baby~ So why don’t you start making up an excuse to our managers for the screams they’re about to hear, hmm?” 

Seungcheol watches as your lips form an ‘o’ shape - eyebrows furrowed with the way his cock fills you up perfectly. 

“You’re such a talented actress after all, aren’t you? You should be able to make something up~” He quips.

���Fuh–fuck you, Seungcheol...!”

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for a Fic

~*~

1.  For your next 'in the mood for' post, could y'all recommend some fics where Wei Wuxian asks Jiang Cheng's permission for the golden core transfer? I've always thought that would be an interesting premise for a fic, but I haven't been able to find any like that. Thanks so much for all the work you do in this fandom! @prans-micellar-water

Drowning in the Sun by Zelos (T, 8k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Transfer, Canon-Typical Violence, Brotherly Love, Sunshot Campaign, Family Dynamics, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, [Podfic] Drowning in the Sun by flamingwell) For 1, Drowning in the Sun is a *wonderful* work, but does not include WWX asking Jiang Cheng's permission. In fact, rather the opposite. The premise of that fic is that Jiang Cheng is aware but paralyzed during the surgery and the fact that he did not consent is a major plot point

To a fault by apathyinreverie (T, 7k, WIP, Yunmeng Siblings, WangXian, Family, Siblings, the Jiang siblings having each other's backs, no matter what, LWJ approves, Romance, Canon Divergence, Fluff)

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2. I wanted to express my gratitude for all the hard work you put in for this fandom! I am also in the mood for a novel canon divergence, where eveything is the same (including all the Wangxian scenes) but the confession at guanyin temple doesn't happen and they have to deal with their feelings after everything has calmed down. Bonus for more pining afterwards/them continuing being oblivious idiots.

Operation Barking Dog by RoseThorne (T, 6k, WIP, WangXian, Family, Mutual Pining, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Repaying Debt, Regret, Phobias, Trauma, Memories, Tree Climbing, There Was Only One Bed, Travel, JC in Seclusion, Cynophobia, POV Third Person, POV LWJ, Pining, Flowers)

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3. Hi mods! Thanks for your amazing work❤️ recently my new obsession is maffia au, can you hit me your best recommendations or a list with them? Every tag is okay, but the main couple please be wangxian 😊 Thank you so much🥰

🧡Rule Number One: Never get attached. by KizuKatana (E, 130k, wangxian, criminal underworld au, dark LWJ, ABO, note all tags) has recently become a favorite I can not recommend it enough!

You & Me Baby, We'll Eclipse The Sun Series by 2501987 (M/E, 130k, WangXian, XiCheng, MIND THE TAGS, Modern AU, Mafia, Murder husbands, Torture, Possessive Behavior, Blood and Violence, Older JC, Younger WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Dark)

Say What's In This Drink? by nana_banana (E, 2k, WangXian, Established Relationship, Gun Violence, Violence, Mild Blood, Dark LWJ, Organized Crime, Murder, Crime Boss LWJ)

Miscalculated Misreckoning by LadyVamp (E, 5k, WangXian, Crimes & Criminals, Organized Crime, Assassins & Hitmen, Attempted Kidnapping, Murder, Murder Husbands, Blood and Violence, Violent Sex, Married WangXian, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX, YL WWX, Modern AU, Hair-pulling, Office Sex, Desk Sex, Dark LWJ, Protective LWJ, Dark WWX, Partners in Crime, Smut, Gun Violence, Gun Kink, Crime Syndicate Qíshān Wēn Sect, Arranged Marriage, Crime Lord LWJ, Crime Lord WWX)

LAOZU (1989) by Machinebender (E, 5k, WIP, WangXian, GonDrey, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Modern AU, Organized Crime, Enemies to Lovers, Rivals With Benefits, Canon-Typical Major Character Death, 1980s Shanghai Triads AU) Just wanted you to know that the sudden revival of interest in the lost Martin Scorsese subtext-laden gangster epic “Goncharov” is already inspiring fusion AUs

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4. Hello! May I request some warprize fics? Either of them as one is fine :)

Our War Prize Collection is right up your alley

~*~

5. Good morning/afternoon/evening dear mods! For the next I'm in the mood for fic do you think you can find any fic where Jiang Yanli is the one to go back in time? She's such an interesting character and I would love to see what she would prioritize with her slightly limited knowledge of the events of canon

💖 Sail Away Sweet Sister by sami (M, 73k, WangXian, MingLi, YZY/Mdm Lan/CS, Time Travel, EXTREME Canon Divergence, Family, Wide Focus Narrative, Some People Live/Not Everyone Dies, Most Named/Canon Characters Lives, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Families of Choice, Parenthood, Fluff, Angst, Underage Sex, PTSD, Unforeseeable consequences, The butterfly effect, Slightly Dark JYL) though it is her ghost that travels back, which witnessed all of post canon so she does not have the limited knowledge

from the top, this time with personality by thunderwear (G, 15k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, time travel, JYL stands up for herself, family feels, WIP)

the taming of wild rivers by colorfullysarah (T, 7k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, time travel fix-it, everyone lives au, BAMF JYL, falling in love, found families, WCZ lives, WIP)

Between the sinners and the saints by Moonlit_dewdrops (T, 16k, wangxian, JC & WWX & JYL, JYL/JZX, time travel fix-it, JYL centric, canon divergence, JYL pov, found family, protective JYL)

Keeping Our Promises Unbroken by ColdBloodedReptile (M, 72k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, JC/WQ, time travel fix-it of sorts, not everyone dies au, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, family feels, JYL pov, sibling bonding, protective siblings, WIP)

Hear The Flute, Alone In Its Melancholy by effugi (M, 18k, JYL/JZX/WQ, wangxian, time travel, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, PTSD, first time, eventual romance & smut, WIP)

System user Jiang Yanli by Sassylittlebean (M, 1k, WIP, XuanLi, WangXian, Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Plot changing, JYL Lives, JYL badass, Fix-It) freshly posted today (8/21/2022)

Rise of the Peacock by JustAWanderingBabbit (Not Rated, 65k, WIP, JZX & MY, XuanLi, 3Zun, Canon Divergence, Re:Birth/Transmigration, Drabble to Full Story, Attempted Sexual Assault, unwanted sexual touching) Jin Zixuan is sent back in time to his first fight with WWX, and seeks to set things right from there; along the way, he discovers that (SPOILER) so has Jiang Yanli

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6. i'm wondering if there are any fics ppl can recommend where wwx is blind? preferably finished works but i'd love to see whatever is out there!

🧡close your eyes, feel my heartbeat by ThatDesiGirl (T, 11k, WangXian, blind!WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rewriting Canon, not a fix-it but a what-if, Golden Core Transfer)

The Warmest Hands by AvoOwO (M, 46k, wangxian, JC & WWX, WWX & LSZ & LWJ, major character injury, hurt WWX, blood & gore, heavy angst w/ happy ending, blindness, PTSD, alcoholism, fights, JC & WWX reconciliation, non-sexual intimacy, tenderness, WIP) is a blind wwx fic. It’s rlly good but rlly intense!

The Darkness Before Dawn by PsycheStellata707 (M, 113k, WIP, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX, Time Travel, Attempt at Humor, PTSD, Oblivious WWX, WWX-centric, Blind WWX, Sentient Burial Mounds, Self-Indulgent, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Except Those Who Deserves to Die, Oblivious Pining, Not Canon Compliant)

🧡Bright Enough to Shine by Dreaming_Days (G, 12k, WangXian, Blind WWX)

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7. hello any fics that sunshot Champlain donghua wwx meets post canon cql lwj??? i saw a fanart like that and i was intrigued to see if there where anyfics like it ^^

The Young, the Horny, the Jaded and the Jade: Partners in Time by Admiranda (M, 35k, WangXian, WIP, Established couple, Crossover, road trip with your older selves, teasing your younger selves about their obvious crushes, yin iron does yin iron things, mdzs/cql crossover, adult wangxian, Teenage Wangxian) is a stepping through time fic where young CQL wangxian meet older MDZS wangxian. It’s sooo well written and rlly fun. Updates take some time but it’s still active

Once upon in a dream... by Clarissa_23 (G, 1k, WangXian, WYB & XZ, Canon Divergence, Crack, Bratty WYB, Accidental matchmaking)

11 of this post

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8. Hello! I'm in the mood for fics where someone else becomes a sentient fierce corpse! I don't mind if they're not wangxian fics.

Over the Rotted Bridge by vailkagami (T, 314k, wangxian, major character death, temporary character death, angst, hurt/comfort, canon divergence, non-consensual resurrection, YLLZ WWX, hurt LWJ, slow burn, plague, PTSD, survivor’s guilt)

We Are the Afterlife Series by NevillesGran (G/M, 187k, WIP, Yunmeng Siblings, WangXian, JYL & JL, Major Character Undeath, Canon Divergence, Fierce Corpse!JYL, Canon-Typical Needles In Heads, Yúnmèng Jiāng Siblings, JYL-centric, Canon-Typical Fierce Corpse Body Horror, Extended Junior Ensemble (ft. OCs) ) is a sentient fierce corpse!JYL AU

monsters cannot break her stride by Stratisphyre (G, 3k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, JYL Lives, outsider pov)

a bird in your teeth by Eevee (ChaosBitch) (E, 61k, YangLi, WangXian, All of the sex in this fic is consensual, But one of the participants IS a fierce corpse, JYL POV, Minor Character Death, (you probably won't be sad about it), I feel like this fic turned out surprisingly soft, but XY still does some onscreen murders, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mention of JGS's canon behavior, Mentions of XY's canon behavior, Angst, Hopeful Ending)

Of The Sun, by Enigmatree (M, 43k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, The Wen Sect, Worldbuilding, No Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF WN, Cinnamon Roll WN, BAMF WQ, Temporary Character Death, BAMF JYL, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending)

There Are More Than One Reason Undead Raise Series by Storyboradinventor (M/T, XuanLi, WangXian, JC & WWX, Undead!WWX, Angst, Canon Divergence, Undead!Yiling Patriarch, Sunshot Campaign, Bittersweet Ending, Some Humor) WWX emerges from the Burial Mounds as a sapient fierce corpse

blue skies forever Series by rikke (M, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, major character death in a necromantic way, necrophilia also in a necromantic way, canon divergence with the bad ending route, lwj is wwx's corpse boyfriend) LWJ dies and WWX brings him back as a fierce corpse. Mind all the tags, and be forewarned that this one turns up frequently in angst and sad ending requests.

Waiting On The Night Hunt by JustAWanderingBabbit (G, 50k, Grudging Respect Friendship, Inappropriate use of lightning storms)

and

Pieces of Us by JustAWanderingBabbit (Not Rated, 32k, dead characters being dead, Mostly Canon Compliant, Snark, Implied Violence, Happy ending.) these two stories are simultaneous and intertwined) ; post-canon; case fic; JGY and NMJ are running around as sapient fierce corpses, and XY has been possessing a series of undead backup bodies

House on Haunted Hill by JustAWanderingBabbit (T, 6k, MY & NMJ, SongXiao, Original Character, Communication is hard when you're dead, We ain't afraid of no ghosts, We've been dead for years, Bad jokes because writer is in a mood, NaNoWriMo Breaktime, ghost hunt, mystery haunting, Undead Investigation Team) takes place in the same universe as Pieces of Us and Waiting on the Night Hunt; post-canon; case fic; sapient fierce corpses SL and NMJ, demi-undead JGY, and ghosts XXC and AQ are a wandering night-hunting team

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9. Hello dear mods and thank you. Im itm for fics that are kinda specific. They would consist of wwx’s archery skills and basically ppl being impressed of him. Thank you

nothing is safe. by eeriemedusa (M, 2k, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Horror, POV Original Character, bad ending (?), depending on who you are, very lightly implied wangxian, that being said: battle couple wangxian, Blood and Violence, Gore, Canon-Typical Fierce Corpses, this is inspired by a clipping. song) if “terrified shitless” counts as “impressed”; Sunshot-Era, from the POV of Wen soldiers being picked off by WWX; a rare portrayal of WWX as a combat archer/sniper.

shot thru the heart by huxiyi (G, 7k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Archery, Getting Together, Feelings Realization, wwx's canonically bad memory)

best to start by testing him by deepestbluesky (T, 1k, WangXian, The Odyssey fusion, Identity Reveal, Archery, Non-Graphic Violence, some light murder, (well okay it's kind of a lot of murder actually), Reunions, brief but inspirational cameo by MXY) Odyssey fusion, with Odysseus’ homecoming enacted by WWX as Odysseus, LWJ as Penelope, LSZ as Telemachus, and the cultivator mob as the suitors

#1a on this wangxianficrecs post may have what you’re looking for

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10. I was wondering if anyone knew of any fics where the “XianXian is three!” joke isn’t so much a joke than it is a coping mechanism for Wei Wuxian’s time on the streets? I don’t mean those DD/LL/Caregiver/little or whatever it’s called type of fics (no shame to those type of fics! It’s just not what I am looking for) but a fic that kind of delves into the kind of trauma that a toddler living alone on the streets might develop? I just really want to read a fic that actually has Wei Wuxian confront his past as a little kid on the streets. Thanks!

Three by AmyNChan (G, 913) 10 inspired me to write a fic for them. I hope they enjoy.

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11. Hi hi! For the next itmf can i get fics with nhs and wwx being good friends!!

You, Clouds, Rain by PaPaYa_Bites (E, 32k, wangxian, JC & WWX, WWX & LSZ, modern, found family, accidental baby acquisation, adoption but more like kidnapping, past child abuse, implied/referenced drug use, fluff & angst, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, depression, implied/referenced self-harm, guilt, family fluff, eventual smut, WIP)

a grain of millet drifting by RoseThorne (T, 7k, NHS & WWX, Assassination Attempt(s), Introspection, Regret, Travel, Post-Canon, POV Third Person, POV WWX, Ghosts, Reconciliation, Exhaustion, Pining, Pre-WangXian)

5 of this post

your problem as a mountain. by cupofwater (E, 30k, WangXian, NHS & WWX, Epistolary, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, Getting Together, Misunderstandings, Pen Pals, Erotica, Pen Pal Book Club, Sexual Fantasy, sexual self-discovery, Smut, Letters, POV Alternating, Elements from the MDZS Novel)

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, NHS & WWX, WangXian, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, NHS needs a new hobby, And apparently that's spoiling his Wei-Xiong, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh)

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12. hi mods! i hope youre all doing well!! for the next iitmf, i'm hunting for coffee shop aus that actually have a healthy side of angst and/or hurt/comfort! preferably longer fics but i'll take what i can get - can anyone point me in some interesting directions?

7 of this post

Pan - The Smell of Home by IBurbick (E, 27k, WIP, WangXian, 3Zun, Modern AU, Coffee Shops & Cafés, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone lives, Food Porn, autistic characters, Trans Characters, Disabled Characters, pansexual characters, Asexual Characters, Lesbians, non-binary characters, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Heterosexual Characters, Threesome, Homophobia (sorry), Slow Burn, Smut, Mentions of violence/beating, Past Child Abuse, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Panic Attacks) LXC’s cafe is a beloved queer community hub, but also a target for homophobes

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13. Hey! May I please request some fics where wwx is loaded?

Teacher's Pet by anobtra (animeobsessedtrash) (E, 43k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, dark LWJ, age difference, professor WWX, student LWJ, smut, bottom LWJ, check all the smut tags before reading!, possessive LWJ) this has rich wwx but warning: wangxian has a large age diff and student/teacher stuff...

The Fault in Our Stars by Vamillepudding (T, 17k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Romantic Comedy, Comedy of Errors, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings)

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, WangXian, NieLan, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, Found Family, Modern AU, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, PTSD, Blood and Injury, Dissociation, So much trauma, Angst with a Happy Ending, Musicals, POV Alternating, Baking, Yunmeng reconciliation (eventually), Friend Zoning, Literal Sleeping Together, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks) WWX is sort of stealth rich, but it does make for some great plot moments

forget-me-not by mellowflicker (E, 22k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Sugar Daddy WWX, Sugar Baby LWJ, Professor WWX, Student LWJ, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Secret Relationship, Age Difference, Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain, JZX & LWJ Friendship, Family Issues, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs) WIP however author is actively updating

His Priceless Jade by bluegrass (T, 2k, WIP, WangXian, Sugar Baby LWJ, Sugar Daddy WWX, Fluff, Light Angst, Forehead ribbon: No, Silk chokers: Yes, Music Student LWJ) WIP however the chapter reads like a one shot

together, we're just enough by lulu_kitty (E, 134k, WangXian, Bartender LWJ, single dad wwx, Kid fic (sort of), Excessive Fluff, Yearning, barely there plot, neurodivergent wangxian, canonical parental issues, lwj in jewelry, accidental sugar gege wwx, fluff and eventual smut, Bottom LWJ, Service Top WWX, Bisexual WWX, Rich WWX, a-yuan is a wei but still also a wen wwx is a-yuan's biological baba, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Slow-ish burn, Light Dom/sub)

tangled by cryptenhope (T, 12k, wangxian, post-canon, established relationship, WWX has curly hair, yunmeng siblings, soft LWJ) WWX, since he inhabits MXY’s body, is the sole remaining heir to the Mo family fortune.

Our Small Steps by tokaku (T, 9k, wangxian, post-canon) WWX, since he inhabits MXY’s body, is the sole remaining heir to the Mo family fortune.

~*~

14. Hi!!! For your next in the mood for, could you guys rec some fics where any canonically dead character comes back to life post canon?

To be Lost and Found by sanaaf (T, 9k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Family Dynamics, Canon-Typical Violence, its about the found family but like literally, JYL comes back from the dead and has a lot to say actually, Protective JYL, LWJ is actually another one of JL's uncles, Case Fic, but barely, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, JYL Resurrection)

#5 of this post

I Call For You to Come Back by T98 (M, 18k, WIP, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, XuanLi, Post-Canon, Resurrection, JC Bashing, Jiāng Family Bashing)

Dream of the Gold Chamber by JustAWanderingBabbit (T, 8k, 3Zun, Canon Divergence, Referenced canonical incest canon violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Dream a Little Dream, XY is a turd, He might still be redeemable, JGS is not redeemable.) WWX is reconstituted from within the Stygian Tiger Seal (it’s complicated) and JYL, JZX, and JGY are resurrected in magically-constructed bodies; a lot of canon deaths are also averted

~*~

15. hello <3 could i ask for fics where jc can tell somehow that the new core isn't his? or maybe where the core transfer links him to wwx somehow (like idk he can sense his emotions or something)? also, i'd love to read fics where they mention wwx having such a strong (or even immortal level) core. thank you!

Side Effects May Include by vibishan (T, 3k, WIP, JC & WWX, ChengNing, WangXian, Golden Core Reveal, Like Immediately, Telepathic Bond, Canon Divergence, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending)

when the stars don't line (i'll be forever by your side) by estel_willow, mandsangelfox (G, 12k, WIP, JC & WWX, WangXian, Yunmeng brothers, Sibling Bonding, JC finds out about his golden core earlier, Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Violence, Canon deaths, Canon Temporary Character Death)

A single soul (no more) by Lysdance1 (G, 983, JC & WWX, Sunshot Campaign, Canon Divergence, Reconciliation, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Character Study)

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16. Hello! This is my first ask so sorry if I do anything wrong, this is for the I'm in the mood for post. I was wondering if you know any fics that A. Have a big reveal scene in them, like the golden core transfer, someone being sick, or wangxians relationship being revealed anything like that I just want to see a scene where it's like "and everyone gasped or was shocked" it can be long or short i just really want some drama, and B. Where they're dealing with an argument, like at a conference and everything is just wild, again just want that drama.

Thank you so much for the work you do and I hope you have a good day. @05142003-blog-blog

By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal, Polski Translation Pod każdym innym imieniem by tehanu, [PODFIC] By Any Other Name by sakizar) has some crazy conference drama and reveals at the end

In the circle around broken glass by Cycliph (E, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Bottom LWJ/TOP WWX, Omega LWJ, Alpha WWX, A/B/O Dynamics, Pregnant LWJ)

Spectacular by Moominmammashandbag (G, 2k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Everyone Lives)

A Little Bit of Helpful Advice by pupeez4eva (T, 2k, JC & WWX, WangXian, Time Travel, Humor, Crack, Yunmeng Bros)

The Nie Sect Discussion Conference That No One, Ever, Will Discuss Again. by mondengel (Not Rated, 1k, WangXian, Humor) you have to be logged into the archive to read this I think?

Wei Wuxian’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good First Meeting With His Future by Enigmatree (T, 3k, WangXian, Time Travel, Cloud Recesses, YL WWX, POV Outsider) not a discussion conference, but a class however I think it fits the drama and big reveal bill!

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17. Hi mods! Thanks for all the work you do. So, I came across the I'm in the mood for ask where op had asked for funny jiang cheng centric fics. I went through your list of the angsty fics (they were really good btw) and i was wondering if you had any more fics like "for what, for all but myself" by not_rude_ginger? Basically, jc-centric, angsty, long, hurt comfort. Also, no wwx/jc or jc/lwj or jc/juniors. Thanks!!

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[lexiawrittings]

The Compromise. I

PAIRING.

Dark!CEO!Steve Rogers x Reader.

SUMMARY.

Wealthy CEO, Steve Rogers is a businessman before everything. All he ever wanted is to be the best, richest and smartest, owning all the finest companies. His priority: be better in affairs than his father.

But when a huge opportunity is offered to him, Steve would do anything in his power to seize it. And he’s ready to make a sweet and dangerous deal with you. Even though you are not willing to make a compromise with him.

A/N.

Political Relationship/Marriage? AU. Dark AU.

This is DARK. ANGST (i’m sorry) & SMUT (explicit sexual content) +18. Breeding Kink - sort of... Non-Con & Dub-Con. Mentions of Political Marriage. Mentions of Relationship/Marriage of Convenience. Swearing.

Here it is. One of my favorite story. Hopefully you will enjoyed it too. As always, thank you very much for reading! Don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts, comments, and feedback. (sorry for the layout at then, bugs from Tumblr)

A lots of Love! Lex!xxx

P.S: Gif is not mine, credits to the owner and maker.

WORDS.2942ish.

°°°

Being the assistant of the wealthy, arrogant, sexy Steve Rogers has its perks. Your income was very high so you could buy anything you ever wanted. You could use his name anytime you wished to impress your relatives, or friends when they were visiting you for booking the best tables in the greatest and luxurious restaurants in Manhattan. And, one of the greatest benefits of them all was that you could have the best sex you ever had with this gorgeous man. It was one of his “arrangements“ with you. Every once in a while, Steve Rogers, solemn and clever, needed a release from his stressful business life. He was the one who decided the when and where without any confirmation on your part. He just scheduled the meeting in your daily calendar like it was one of his business luncheon. And you showed up.

That’s why, on this Saturday evening you were, naked, sweaty, and panting hard under his muscular chest. Steve was thrusting into you, again and again, hitting the soft delicious spot inside your pussy. You clenched his thick cock once, biting your lips watching him grunted.

“ Baby! “ Steve moaned, still moving above you. He descended one hand caressing your skin stopping between your thighs. The blond man started to stroke your clit with his fingers, urgently. “ Come for me. ” He whispered his red mouth still wet from your previous orgasm. “ Come all around me.“

The bed was creaking with your movement in his darkroom. You were pressed into the mattress, feeling your climax coming once again deep inside your core. Steve pushed harder inside of you, feeling you were almost there. You grazed his smooth back with your nails arching your back as you reached your peak, deliciously hot and blissful. You whimpered, squeezing him hard. Steve swore under his breath, putting his head into the crook of your neck, he came in a low and deep groan, his hips jerking at each spasm, his cock throbbing inside of you. You breathed hard under him, softly kissing his shoulder. Your eyelids were heavy from tiredness but you felt euphoric. His hot breath was fanning your neck, his sweaty chest was against your naked breast. Steve swallowed as he braced himself from you, one hand next to your head the other stroking softly your clit making you shiver. He took himself out, looking at you, he frowned, concentrating.

“ Did you send the fiscal papers to the Financial Department? “ He asked a bit out of breath. His head was clear and turned into business mode.  

You nodded once. You didn't know how after all of the sex, he could still think about work.

“ And did you send the e-mail to Stark? The one with the new numbers? “ He continued his voice hoarse.

You nodded again, confused. Because his voice was CEOish but his hand on your stomach was gentle.

“ Good. “ Steve replied.

He licked his lips humming his approval as he tasted your sweet juice on his tongue. He smirked seeing your eyes darkened from the sight closely watching him, but he pushed his body away from you and get up on the steady ground of his bedroom’s floor. He started to walked toward his bathroom, naked like the day he was born.

“ Monday I have a meeting with Wilson & Barnes, don’t forget to buy the beverage, Miss Smith. “ He informed you, his back, turned to you. You could saw the long scratch of your nails on his skin.  

You sighed, watching him closed the door of the bathroom. It was back to Miss Smith again. It wasn’t your last name, but Steve Rogers wasn’t the greatest of the boss. And if he used this name it meant that your night together was over and it was the time for you to go home. It was your deal between the two of you since you started to work at Rogers Inc. You were the best assistant ever, he was a jerk and arrogant boss, and sometimes the two of you will meet, preferably in his apartment, and had sex. Just wild and sensual sex, with no feeling and attachment. For him for sure. But for you, it was difficult each day to fool you that you haven’t any feelings, for him. You were lost, one part of you liked the tender man, he was sometimes. And another part of you was scared of how harsh, brutal, and dark he could be when he wanted something.

°°°

“ I heard Rumlow is on the market again, trying to buy Stark Industries. “ James Buchanan Barnes stated, smiling behind his hand, watching his best friend getting angrier at the information. “ Even though he filed for bankruptcy last year, the word in the street is that a private investor gave him the money to buy one of the biggest companies in the world.” “ I don’t believe this lie, Buck’. “ Steve told him completely annoyed that his oldest rival/enemy was back in the game. “ I am the one who will buy Stark’s company. Tony trusts me. “ He continued, turning his chair back to the men to watch the biggest and tallest skyscrapers of New York City through the huge windows of his office. “ The only thing Tony trusts, my man, “ Sam smiled, raising himself from the white couch buttoning his jacket. “ Is money. “ He finally revealed, pointing at the glass door at his associate, he left the room a grin on his lips.

It was barely 10 a.m and Steve Rogers was already mad. The week had just begun.

“ Contact your father, Steve. I’m sure he will have a solution.“ Bucky raised himself from his seat his eyes following Sam leaning against the main desk in the waiting area. The dark-haired man sighed frowning at his colleague who was currently flirting with Steve’s assistant. The CEO couldn’t see them but he could hear them giggling in the lobby. His irritation was going up reaching a new level of anger. “ My father will blackmail me or worse bully me into something I don’t want to, for me to get the money. ” Steve replied without turning his back from the beautiful skyline of the city. “ Yes. “ Bucky admitted walking toward the door. “ But, in the end, you would possess the most important industrial firm in the world. “ He explained, his eyes watching the head of his friend, over his shoulder. He shook his head, before leaving the office closing the door behind him.

Steve knew that Bucky was right. He had to ask his father for the money or he could say goodbye to one of his biggest dream for his career: merging Stark company with his own. He turned around, turning his computer on to make a deal with the devil. Without turning his head from the screen, Steve hit one button on his telephone.

“ Miss Smith, I need you for a moment. “ He talks directly to the interphone set on the device and pushed his finger away.

You entered the office, less than a minute later. A pen and a notepad in your hand already ready to write his orders. He didn’t acknowledge you, still taping on the flat and white keyboard. A couple of minutes later, Steve finished his e-mail. He pressed send then he raised himself from his chair, tucking his tie and buttoning his expensive jacket. He walked around his desk finally looking at you. You had waited for him for the exactitude of two minutes and thirty seconds, but it wasn’t the first time he was a complete asshole to you. It won’t be the last time either.

" Follow me to the Financial Department, I need to know the exact numbers we could pull out for Stark Industries. " He informed you, still walking. " What ordered do I make to the kitchen for your lunch, sir? " You asked, nodding but also preparing your pen to write his answer. " Nothing. I’m going out for lunch and will remain out for the most part of this afternoon too.” He informed you, as he stopped in front of your frame. “Cancelled my appointments.”

You paused for a nanosecond at the new information settle in before putting your pen and small notepad in your skirt pocket. Steve was about to walk around you but he suddenly took your wrist into a firm grip in his hand. His eyes were darker and full of promising threats. You gasped surprised by his sudden movement. And then you felt it, the burning feeling from his tight hold, you winced under his angry face. He pulled on your wrist making you collided into his chest, with his other hand he raised your head, one finger under your chin. Your eyes met his cold blue one.

" It’s the first and last time I hear you flirting with one of my friends, sweetheart. Do you understand? " He asked his voice grave and low, his lips barely moving.

You nodded biting your lips under his glare. Steve leaned his mouth to yours, put a simple kiss on your lips. One. Tender. Then, he released you from his grip, stepping beside you to open the door. You let a quiet gasp escape your lips as you stroked the tender flesh of your wrist.

" Let’s go, Miss Smith, we haven’t all day. " He cried out without turning around, striding into the lobby toward the elevator.

Confused you followed him, tears in your eyes. You paused next to him, waiting for the elevator. Discomfort growing inside your chore.

" Miss Smith, you will do a quick reckon on Mr. Brock Rumlow while I’m away. I need to know everything. From the professors he had in preschool to the girls he's currently banging. " Steve commanded you as the metal doors open up in front of you. " Yes, sir. " You sniffed, quickly wiping away a tear from your cheek taking your small notepad and pen from your pocket you took notes.

Steve step inside. You followed him but pushed yourself at the back in one of the four corners, putting as much distance as possible between the two of you, making yourself small. The elevator closed the doors and start his descent to the floors below. Steve turned around his back to you. " Stop crying, baby. You know how much it makes me hard. " Steve said to you, his voice low. He took his phone from inside his jacket and started scrolling "And, I don’t have the time to fuck you, right now. “

With a trembling hand, you wiped away the remaining tears on your skin. You bite your lips your sighted set on his long fingers tapping the screen. Sometimes Steve Rogers could be much worse than a simple asshole. He could be frightening.

°°°

It  turned out to be a horrible and awful Monday as the day goes on and on. Steve was angry at everything. Pushing the bag, harder with his fists, he didn’t hear you walk into the gym room of the building. The night had felt in New York City, and almost every employee had returned home. Except you. You couldn’t leave until he did. Steve was wearing his sports clothes, a white t-shirt with sweat pants. His forehead and face were coated in sweat. He had returned to the office two hours ago without telling you anything. He just took his gym bag and went straight to this room. The space was large and clear with numerous sports machines. You leaned your side against the wall, a big folder in your hands.

Finally, Steve stopped hitting the punching ball. Panting, he put his hair away from his eyes.

" Did you finished what I asked you about Rumlow? " Steve asked, starting to take away the white bandage from his hand.                                                        " Yes. " You answered, clearing your voice. " I searched and classified every single information I could find on him. " You waved the folder to him. " From birth to present day. "

But Steve didn’t look at you. His thought turned on what his father had told him over their lunch earlier. “ Find a sweet wife, and makes an heir. I don’t want to see my name tainted and ending with you. “ Sweet words. His father was the worst but he had accepted to give him enough money to gather with what his financial team could bring from his company. It would be more than enough to beat Brock and buy Stark Industries but he still had to look for a wife and make a damn baby. He wasn’t the romantic kind of guy. Steve didn’t believe in love and all the other bullshit the media was brainwashing the world with. He loved sex and was pretty damn good at it. But what drove him was to grow his business and be the best. To be better than his father. And he was one step away from it and nobody or anyone will stop him.

" That’s great, Miss Smith. " He nodded taking the last bit of the bandage from his left hand before taking off the bandage from the right one. " Will you marry me, Y/N? " Steve asked not once raising his head from his fingers.

You froze feeling that you haven’t heard him well. You frowned taken aback by the words that came out of his mouth. You didn’t know if you should be more shocked at him for using your real name in three years or by his proposal. You swallowed hard waiting for him to laugh at you. And announced that all of it was a joke. A bad joke. Steve finally turned his blue sight toward you, raising an eyebrow, waiting for a reply.

" Well? " He asked impatiently, finishing with his bandage.                                    " Oh, you are serious! " You exclaimed your mouth wide open, and almost dropping the huge folder on the floor.                                                                                         " Of course, I’m serious. " Steve replied annoyed throwing his stuff in his large sports bag.

Surprise, you dropped your gaze on the ground. Marriage? Marriage was such a big thing, celebrating and vowing in front of your friends and family to love each other for the rest of your life until death comes to break us apart. For you, it was something to do when you were in love but it wasn’t what Steve had in mind.

" You are great at your job, sexy and I like to have sex with you. " He enumerated looking at you and putting his hands on his hips. " I’m not taking no for an answer. So when we should get married, the sooner the better. " He continued his face dead serious looking at you.

You were so confused and baffled by all this, looking at him like a second head had grown on his neck. What the fuck was happening? You shook your head, making a step back to the door. He was insane. Seeing you moving back, Steve took two long strides to reach you before you could escape from him. Extracting the folder from your hold, he threw it across the gym room, papers flying around felt on the ground. Steve put his hands on both of your cheeks. He raised your head pulling it closer to his own. Scared, you look at his eyes. The word dangerous flashing around your mind.

" I told you, I won’t take no for answer. " He murmured his lips brushing yours. "When we will get married I will offer you everything that you desire. I’m filthy rich it’s almost indecent, sweetheart. You will have everything and more." He explained to you stroking your cheek, his dark eyes looking at your teary and fearful one. " A house, cars, clothes anything you want. All I asked in return is a couple of kids. " Steve whispered low against your lips. He brushed his hard-on in his pants against your lower stomach emphasizing his thought. " It will be your kids, I will send them to the best schools, they will have everything they want." He dry-humped your stomach, wiping a few tears on your cheeks with his thumbs, excited watching you frightened. 

Steve was certainly insane selling this dream life to you. You needed to think alone, away from his pushy behavior. Closing your eyes, you tried to shrink away from his grasps but he was holding you tightly. You opened your eyes more tears falling on your cheeks, scared you shook your head once again.

" I-I… " You stuttered, choking a sob as you watched him smirked in front of you.                                                                                                                                     " I told you, baby. I won’t take no for an answer. " He said quietly and pressed a kiss on your lips. He took one of your trembling hands from your side, pulled on it, and guided it inside his sweat pants and underwear. You gasped breaking away from him. You felt his hand forcing yours to pump his thick cock in his clothing. " I already told you, seeing you cried makes me horny, baby. " He mumbled in a low voice. " Horny and hard, just for you. " Steve reminded you, groaning at your touch.

He put his forehead against yours, feeling your hand all around him. He guided you to stroke him as he liked you too. You whimpered sobbing, not knowing what to do. Watching the tears falling on your cheeks, his cock throbbed inside of both of your hands. He darkly smiled at you before putting his lips on yours, pushing his tongue inside your mouth.

You will be his perfect little wife.

°°°

Two. Thee. Four. Five.

[roanniom]

The Night That Follows

Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 8,000~ 

Summary: While celebrating a successful mission, you and Poe accidently ingest a mysterious beverage that makes it hard to resist one another, helping you forget the stress that weighs you down and the friendship that you’ve been holding between you two as a shield. 

Note: This is my first ever non-ADCU fic and it is dedicated to the ever lovely and supportive @paper-n-ashes who urged me to get out of my comfort zone and cheered me on.  

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, sex pollen, drugged drink (it’s drugged with the sex pollen by a 3rd party and not with malicious intent but it still might be triggering), masturbation (f/m), PIV sex, unprotected sex, war-related angst 

When people talk about war, they often discuss the paralyzing fear, the numbing depression. Hopelessness that spreads through your veins like cold water as you face immeasurable odds and stare death in the face day after day. And you can attest to these feelings. You experience them with each dawn that breaks, muddy in the sky regardless of the atmosphere shrouding whatever planet you find yourself waking on each morning. Your life is transient, full of ships and bases and camps. The constants are the clothes on your back, the friends in your squadron (those who survive), and the x-wing you hop in each time danger calls.

The other constant is the part of war that people do not discuss. The rush of adrenaline every time you make it out of a tough scrape. Adrenaline that burns your veins, evaporating the icy hopelessness that had flooded you up until the minute your boots hit turf and your jellied knees catch up to the reality that you are still very much alive. The euphoria that crackles in your brain when you spy your best mate zooming down from above, finally landing and throwing themselves into your arms in the hug you never thought you’d experience again after their coms had gone down in a fire fight. The absolute debauchery of a night of celebration after such a fire fight. Because nobody needs to live quite as much as those who may die.

Which is how you find yourself here, on this non-descript jungle planet, the name of which you didn’t catch during your descent because honestly there have been so many jungle planets and they have all become little more than coordinates on a screen to you at this point. You and your squad have been set up with a mini-festival by the resistance-sympathizing locals as a thank you for your recent decimation of their First Order oppressors. The operation had been pretty seamless, thanks in no small part to the excellent teamwork between you and a one Poe Dameron.

Your flying today had rivaled some of his best, which is certainly saying something since Poe prides himself on being the best pilot in the resistance. You certainly gave him a run for his money, outflying TIE fighters and swiveling shuttle cannons in a perfectly choreographed tandem maneuver wherein the two of you manipulated your assailants to ultimately destroy themselves.

As you knock back a burning shot of the local alcoholic beverage, the liquid tingling and warming you all the way down, you search the triumphant crowd for the cocky pilot who had helped you set the stage for this celebration. You wouldn’t dwell on the earlier events of the day much more tonight. Wouldn’t think much of the comrades you’d lost in the struggle. That was an ache that would throb back to life tomorrow. Tonight, the priority is living.

It is then that you lock eyes with Poe Dameron through the throngs of semi-drunken revelers. His handsome face splits into a wide, cocky grin, so you adopt an exasperated smirk in response as he pushes his way towards you. Such is the game you play. A dance, if you will. Poe plays the role of the self-assured, overly confident golden boy while you, his long suffering partner, humble him with your good-natured criticism and ever rolling eyes.

“Alright there, Sweets?” Poe practically drawls as he reaches you, the nickname both a term of endearment and a teasing reference to the sweet tooth that keeps you hoarding candies of all kinds in your bunk, much to Poe’s own benefit. You beam up at him and upend your little glass to demonstrate its emptiness.

“On my way there, Fly Boy.”

“Looks like you’re falling behind, rookie. Like you did on that triple barrel twist today.”

You throw a punch that lands a little too lightly on his shoulder to produce the grunt and showy flail that he graces you with.

“First of all, you’re not allowed to call me rookie anymore. Your dumb ass might need to be constantly reassured that you’re ‘best pilot in the resistance,’ but by now I am, at worst, second best.” Your gut warms and you’re not sure if it’s the drink or Poe’s deep, full-bodied laugh in response. “And second of all, we don’t talk about the day if we make it to the night.”

Poe almost seems to sober at your words, a phrase of his tossed back at him. The smile remains, though, and he tosses an arm around you before dragging you over to the table that’s been set up with refreshments.

“Right you are, Sweets,” Poe agrees quietly. Louder now and injecting you two into the crowd surrounding the cluster of bottles, he continues, “as for you being second best pilot, I’d rather let the squad decide before you go getting a head too big to fit in your helmet.”

This receives a laugh from the crowd as well as another smattering of slaps thrown towards Poe’s chest.

“Dameron, we all know you already have your own helmet custom made so you can stuff that massive ego in there,” your friend Myrna.

“And those curls,” you add, reaching up and ruffling your hand through his hair in that way that always makes his nose scrunch up in mock anger.

“If you must know, there’s something else they also have to custom make me…” Poe says, grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand to slide down his chest towards the bottom of his flight suit zipper and wiggling his eyebrows. You shriek and yank your hand away.

“In your dreams, Dameron.” Poe leans down toward you so that his face is close enough for you to feel his breath fan across your cheeks.

“Or perhaps in yours?”

Suddenly a small, wrinkled face appears between you. It’s an elderly female member of the local alien race and she’s beaming up at you, holding two steaming mugs and smiling around a garbled statement in a language you don’t recognize.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m not sure I…” you interrupt her, glancing awkwardly between her massive eyes and Poe’s confused ones.

“I might be able to translate!” Myrna cries out, stumbling forward with a newly refilled glass in her hand.

“You sure that’s not just the liquor talking?” Poe asks with a chuckle. Myrna waves him off and kneels unsteadily to listen to the old woman. More garbled speech issues forward as the woman gestures between you and Poe with her mugs. Myrna nods several times and gives little hums of agreement and affirmation. You and Poe trade glances of amusement during the interaction, but you have to look away when the upturned corner of Poe’s mouth begins to distract you.

“Alright alright,” Myrna pipes up. You turn back in time to see Myrna standing back up to her full height, now holding the two mugs, while the woman waddles back into the crowd.

“What’s the deal?” Poe asks, slinging his arm back around your shoulders. You resist the knee jerk actions that come to mind, both to slap his touch away and to lean into it, standing rigid instead.

“She said these are for you,” Myrna says, pushing the steaming mugs into your hands and Poe’s.

“Did she say why?” You peer at the milky, opalescent contents curiously. Myrna has already moved on, however, turning back to the pilot she’d been hanging on before you and Poe had approached. You look to Poe but he shrugs.

“I don’t know, something about you guys deserving it.” Myrna waves her hand dismissively, obviously ready to get back to her own evening. You look up at Poe, unsure, but he’s nodding and smiling.

“Hear that, Sweets? Seems like word travels fast that we’re the top two pilots,” Poe says cheekily, clinking his mug to yours before throwing back his head and downing its contents in one gulp. Your insides ignite at his acknowledgment, as well as the bob of his adam’s apple, but your eyes still flit warily to your beverage.

“We don’t even know what it is and you’re drinking it?”

“Honey, I’m pretty sure that liquor we were taking shots of earlier was actually jet fuel, I don’t think we need to be too worried about this.” Poe smacks his lips and runs his finger around the inside of the mug. “And besides, it’s really kriffing good.”

Watching the way his cheeks hollow out as he sucks the last dregs of his drink from his finger makes a heat boil in the pit of the stomach. You decide you actually are quite thirsty, and since your curiosity is stronger than your apprehension, you knock the liquid back yourself.

“Atta girl!” Poe cheers you on, nudging you. The drink is sweet and thick on your tongue like a melted version of the ice cream you’d tasted once, many years ago. You can still remember the creamy texture, very much worth the credits paid to the traveling vendor who’d brought it to your village during the hottest summer of your childhood. As you swallow this liquid down, however, its cold temperature changes into a burn, similar to alcohol, though smoother than any liquor you’d ever had.

“Good, right?” Poe asks, eyebrows raised. You nod and lick your lips, sure that you’re imagining things when Poe’s eyes flicker down to your darting tongue.

“That was actually pretty good,” you concede with a grin.

“So what have we learned tonight?” Poe prompts, grabbing your mug from your hands and placing it next to his on a nearby table. You shake your head.

“Your cockiness extends to believing locals on a miniscule planet find you special?”

“The correct answer was ‘always give things a chance,’ Sweets, but you can continue being closeminded if you want,” Poe responds with a chuckle. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes to walk away.

“Fine!” You reach out and grab his arm before he can leave. When he rounds back on you with a wide smile you roll your eyes and refuse eye contact. “And just so you know, I’m a lot more open minded than you think, Dameron.”

“Is that so, rookie?” You bristle but as the glee raises in his eyes at your reaction you do your best to tamp it down.

“I’m…flexible,” you say, your grin begrudging. A hubbub breaks out beyond you in the crowd as the makeshift band that had assembled to play party music transitions to a particularly festive song, causing both you and Poe to watch as people begin forming an impromptu dance floor. When Poe turns back at you and raises his eyebrows, expectant, you throw up your hands defensively.

“No. Don’t look at me like that, Fly Boy,” you’re quick to say, but Poe’s even quicker, having already grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to him. Your body collides with his and his other hand finds the dip of your waist.

“Oh I’m sorry, what was that I just heard someone say about being open minded?” Poe asks. In a sudden fluid motion he dips you, bending you over so that your back is parallel to the ground and his face hovers over yours. “Being flexible?”

You let him pull you back up and steady yourself with a hand on his chest to catch your balance, dizzy now, most likely from the suddenness of the motion. You’re about to toss back a witty retort, possibly something that will knock him down a few pegs, but then you catch the glint in his eye and a smile spreads across your lips unbidden.

“You get one dance, Dameron.”

~*~

One dance turned into many, as it turns out. The band, upon realizing their audience’s appetite for raucous music, had begun a steady rotation of upbeat tunes. The dance floor had expanded, spilling out of its original confines in the center of the town square and into the concession areas on the perimeter. Resistance members danced and drank, their bodies jumping and moving to the beat in one chaotic mass of excess energy and euphoria. Bodies writhe against one another in all directions as people seek out friction that can confirm to them that they did indeed survive the day’s trials.

You’re experiencing friction of your own in your little portion of the dance floor. Where things had started out innocently – energetic bouncing to the beat and moving in unison – the tone had long changed. At this point Poe is behind you, arms slung dangerously low on your hips to hold you against him, hands pressed right above your pelvis. The feeling of his chest pressing against your back, his hips bracketing your ass – you’ve lost yourself in the sensations. The rhythm of the music shakes through your muscles but instead of tense and tired, they’re loose and buzzing.

Though truth be told, they aren’t the only thing buzzing. The proximity of Poe’s hands to your lower body feels charged like a magnet. Without thinking you press your hands over the backs of his, encouraging pressure on your lower abdomen. You swear you hear Poe growl behind you has his hands pull you further to him, but it could also be the roar of the crowd. Your hips move in sync, your ass grinding against him in time with the music. Escapism in its purest form is what you’re experiencing in Poe’s arms, held against Poe’s body, matching Poe’s motions. It’s heady and distracting and everything you could ask for to make living feel like living, especially in the aftermath of a day centered on death. You’re content to let this moment last as long as the universe allows.

That is until you realize that the increasing beat you’d thought was a shift in the music is actually the rapid crescendo of your own heartbeat.

Swallowing you find your throat is thick, saliva pooling in your mouth inexplicably. You take a deep breath and allow your mind to reel. How long had you been feeling like this? Why hadn’t you noticed these feelings coming on?

One of the large hands at your hip begins sliding up along the plane of your side and you get your answer. The weight of his touch lights your skin on fire as it drags up and across your collar bone. Your breath feels ragged, rattling around in lungs that can’t seem to take in oxygen no matter how high your chest rises and falls. Poe’s hand lingers on your throat for a second so you swallow again, with even less luck than before. His hand reaches up to grip your jaw which he uses to turn your head back toward him.

Oh.

Poe continues to move behind you, his motions controlling you both on the floor, but his face is strained. Sweat dots his temples, gleaming in his curls, and his teeth seem gritted, making his jaw set at a striking angle. His eyes pin you down, however, and they keep your attention as you gaze back, wide-eyed.

“You okay, rookie?” Poe’s voice is deeper than normal, huskier. The way it reverberates through your body makes a rumbling bubble up deep inside your chest. The beginnings of a moan, perhaps? You’re quick to gasp a response before such a sound has a chance to make its way into the air between you.

“I’m…feeling quite strange.”

The hand still at your waist tightens its grip while the other rejoins on the opposite side. You have to gasp again to keep from moaning. Suddenly you’re being maneuvered forward, Poe’s guidance weaving you through the crowd with ease despite the congested revelry.

Neither of you see the way Myrna is watching you both with a knowing smirk from her place draped around her own handsome pilot beau. Or the way the little old woman who’d gifted you the beverage hovers on the outskirts of the dance floor, a proud look on her wrinkled face as she eyes your retreating figures.

~*~

You’re not really able to follow where Poe is directing you, mainly because of how the imprint of his hands on your body seems to be searing into your skin through your flight suit. While your accelerated heart rate was the thing you had been most worried about, now you are equally worried about the dull ache that has seated itself in the pit of your stomach. You bite down hard on your lip to keep the moan from spilling out, the one you’ve been suppressing since the moment you became conscious to your current discomfort.

When Poe’s stride finally slows to a stop only then are you able to take in your surroundings. Blinking, you’re surprised to find that you’re now outside of the town, far from the lights and bustle of the party, walking into the silent clearing that contains the squadron’s parked aircrafts.

“Why are we all the way out here?” you ask, unsettled by how deep your voice sounds in the darkness.

“Needed to get away from the crowd.” You’re even more unsettled by how breathless Poe’s voice is as he says his first words since the dance floor. So unsettled that you turn in his arms so you can finally take in his disheveled appearance fully.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, it’s the weirdest thing. One minute everything was fine and the next…”

“You can’t catch your breath,” you finish for him and he nods gravely. Both of your chests are practically heaving, pressing into each other with each exhale. When you become aware of this, it also brings awareness of the way his chest pressed up against yours is also adding pressure to your nipples. Since when were your nipples hard? The night is balmy, a cool breeze barely able to disturb the moist warmth that settles in the jungle terrain. You feel sweat begin to collect on the back of your neck and your hairline, much like the sweat causing Poe to shine a bit in the moonlight. And yet your nipples are hard and a shudder runs through your body, nerve endings clearly ten steps ahead of you, taking in some experience to which you’d yet to catch up.

“Wait a minute, look at me,” Poe suddenly orders, his fingers wrapping around your chin to lift your face toward his. You freeze as he stares down at you, eyes widening at whatever he sees.

“What is it?” you ask, voice urgent, almost frightened.

“Your pupils are wide as planets,” he mutters, distracted fingers drawing up the side of your jaw to press to the pulse point at your throat. “Your heartbeat is out of control.”

“I haven’t been able to calm down,” you say, nodding but getting more worried by the second. “Why can’t I calm down? Are you feeling the same way?”

Poe’s mouth presses into a hard line and he turns away abruptly, head tilting down.

“Oh fuck.”

“What?” You try to pull him back toward you but he doesn’t budge.

“I think…we’ve been drugged.”

Your blood runs cold and a hand flies to cover your mouth. You’d known tonight was too good to be true. Your mind races, making connections out of thin air, trying to place when and where you could have possibly come in close enough proximity to First Order agents to be compromised.

“But what – how – what can we do? What is it? Is it deadly?” You’re cut off by a sound issuing from Poe’s now curved body. You wonder at first if it’s a sob, which makes sense because you’re about ready to cry yourself. But then you realize it’s a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t say deadly. Just exceedingly inconvenient.”

“So you know what it is then?” you prompt, tugging at his shoulder some more to try and see his face. “Tell me!”

“Well for starters I’m pretty sure it was that drink the old woman gave us.”

Fuck.

Of course. What was the one suspicious thing you’d ingested all day? The fact that you hadn’t thought about it sooner makes you want to kick yourself, but you press on instead, anxious to have the matter dealt with.

“What does it do?” You hate the tremor that colors your voice. At that Poe finally turns around and you take him in all at once, trying to assess what he could have been hiding. His tall, wide-legged stance makes it easy to notice after a few seconds. As your gaze moves lower on his body you finally see the massive tent forming below the zipper line of his flight suit.

Without even being able to mentally process what you’re looking at your body responds immediately. A rush of warmth and wetness floods the apex of your thighs and the moan that you’d so far been able to hold in finally makes it way out of your throat. Poe’s eyes, which had recently gone hooded, widen in response to the lewd sound. You clap a hand over your mouth and snap your eyes back up to his face, away from the rigid shape that had made the muscles inside you contract wantonly around nothing.

“It’s made from a plant that’s meant to accelerate sex drive,” Poe says matter-of-factly.

You almost don’t hear him because your eyes have already slid back down his body, feasting on the sight of his impressive bulge. You’d heard stories of Poe’s sexual prowess, many from the man’s own loud mouth. You knew he’d satisfied many members of the Resistance, male and female alike. But you had never truly let yourself consider what he’d be like. What he’d look like. What he’d feel like…

“Why would she possibly give that to us of all people?” You feel like you’re going to cry. The feelings coursing through your body are overwhelming.

“Maybe she went around spiking many people at the party. Maybe she just thought you and I would look hot together? You can’t blame her for that one.” Poe winks at you and it diffuses some of your angst. You let out a tense laugh and shake your head.

“How do we make it stop?” you force yourself to ask, just as you force yourself yet again to look back up in his eyes. Poe averts his own, a sheepish look overtaking his face. When he doesn’t answer you step forward and grab his arm in alarm, trying not to consider the way his bicep bulges under his sleeve. “Poe?!”

“We have to…take care of it.”

You’re launching yourself away from him before he can finish the sentence. You probably knew the answer before you’d even asked the question, but his words still sent electricity through your spine.

“We can’t. That’s…that’s crazy – you’re crazy, Dameron!”

“Hey, you think I like this? Standing here like an idiot with my dick so hard I can barely see straight?”

The sexual nature of his words, spoken so plainly and without euphemism for the first time, makes a new wave of wetness pool between your legs against your will.

“Don’t….talk about it,” you say through gritted teeth, closing your eyes in an attempt to center yourself.

“What? Don’t talk about my aching cock?” he asks, almost as a challenge. He’s frustrated now, egged on by your attitude.

“Stop it.”

“Are you about to tell me you aren’t wet right now?”

You turn your back on him in a childish and fruitless attempt at blocking out his words. When you don’t reply you hear his footsteps as he approaches from behind.

“If we’re both having the same reaction, and I’m certain we are, then I’d imagine you’re practically dripping right now.”

His words would have made your eyes cross if you didn’t have them shut so tightly. A hand molds around your hip while the other grasps at the side of your neck, both working in tandem to pull your back flush against his front. The impact, though gentle, knocks the wind out of you. Or whatever wind had been in you in the first place. His lips are at your ear then and you melt into his touch.

“If we take care of this together we’ll go back to normal.”

“…back to normal?” you ask, simply repeating and not really aware of your words.

“Exactly.”

“I…I don’t know.” Poe’s hardened length is pressing into your ass now, insistent and firm behind you. The hand on your hip migrates lower to pull you against him. A swivel of his hips causes your own to follow the momentum, gyrating in their own right.

“We can be quick,” Poe coos, his voice vibrating over your earlobe where his lips are making contact with your skin. Another low chuckle sounds. “Or I can take my time if you want. Either way, I can promise you’ll enjoy it.”

There’s your cocky Fly Boy.

You wrench yourself from his grasp and take a few steadying steps away before gaining the wherewithal to turn back and face him once more. He looks supremely disappointed, arms still outstretched in the place where you had just been.

“Does this really have to be a…team effort?” you ask, face screwed up with discomfort. Poe runs a hand through his hair and casts a distracted glance about your surroundings.

“I mean I guess theoretically one could take care of themselves – ”

“Great!” you cut him off and stalk around to the other side of his x-wing. Of course he’d brought you to his ship. You look around for your own but when you can’t find it you plop yourself down on the ground.

“Are you kriffing serious?” comes Poe’s angry voice behind you as he stomps over. “We could bang this out and feel better but you’re just going to – ”

“Oh ‘bang’ this out? Real nice, Dameron.”

“You know what I mean.” You can practically hear his eye roll.

“The other side,” you say simply, lowering the zipper on your flight suit. When you don’t hear the sound of his retreating footsteps, however, you pause. “Stay on the other side of the ship, Dameron.”

He grumbles but does as you say. When you finally hear the sound of him throwing himself to the ground, you lift the tab of your zipper again. However, the loud and sudden ziiiip indicating that he’s yanked open his own garment seems ring out then in the clearing and you’re inundated with mental images of what that must look like. Poe sprawled on the ground with his flight suit open and askew. You imagine the expanse of his chest, the way the muscle would ripple in the shadows of the jungle. You’d seen him without a shirt before, the arms of his flight suit tied at his waist as he reclined beneath his x-wing making repairs. Covered in sweat and grease. The memory and the subsequent lurid thoughts have you dipping your hand down into the small opening you’ve made in your clothes, not fully comfortable enough to expose yourself entirely to the elements. When you reach the place between your thighs you have to swallow the gasp that bursts forth at the realization that Poe had been right. You’re not just wet. You’re dripping.

“Fuck.”

You think you say it quietly but a chuckle from the other side of the ship proves otherwise.

“Need any help over there?”

You ignore him and try to focus in on your own body, closing your eyes. You allow a hand to ghost over your breast as you ease a finger through your folds. You feel the insistent thrumming of your pulse even down below and your breath is shallow in your chest. The images dancing behind your eyelids show you flashes, glimpses of things you try to banish from your mind. The angle of Poe’s jaw. His faint, ever present stubble. The arch of his eyebrow. The curve of his smirk. His ass in those pants.

“Sweets…”

Poe’s voice interrupts a whimper you hadn’t even realized you were releasing.

“Poe.” Your voice is small and it cracks around his name. Your muscles are contracting but nothing you do eases the sensation. It just continues building within you. “It hurts.”

“Just come over here. I don’t even have to touch you. Just let me help you through it.”

You ponder the darkness before you, the way it envelops the other aircrafts in this makeshift parking zone. You hear a shick shick shick behind you and your cunt aches. Completely in response to the siren call of Poe Dameron’s building pleasure. You’re immediately intensely jealous. Jealous of the way that, you assumed, he was having more luck getting himself off than you were, despite the fingers inside you right now. Jealous of the way his voice didn’t crack when he beckoned you over.

But most of all jealous of the fact that he’s the one currently touching his hard cock. Not you.

You will yourself to stand up, pulling your hand out of your flight suit but not bothering to zip it back up. On jelly legs you make your way to the other side of the ship. The far side, facing away from the town square and the distant glow of the party you’ve now forgotten.

As you round the edge of the x-wing you bite your lip at the sight before you. Poe is indeed sprawled out with his suit zipped all the way down. His thick member protrudes from the bottom of the opening, a fist moving up and down rapidly, pulling from root to flushed tip in skilled motions. However the eyes that gaze up at you from under his unruly mop of curly hair are not doused with pleasure and satisfaction as you’d imagined. Instead he looks pained, almost agonized. At the sight of you he sits up a bit and does his best to give you a reassuring smile though it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, rookie.”

“That’s the drink talking,” you dismiss, despite the way your stomach swoops as you move to settle yourself down next to him, careful not to make contact. “And you know I hate you calling me rookie.”

“I’ll call you anything you want, baby, as long as you start touching yourself.”

Your cunt pulses at his words so suddenly that you almost double over. Your breathing, already ragged, speeds up as you feel the overwhelming urge to have something deep inside you. Dropping your hand into the opening in your suit you halt, however, watching Poe warily in your peripheral vision. He catches you looking and reluctantly stills the hand moving on member.

“Would sitting back to back help?” he sighs. You nod, scrambling over so that your back is to his.

This is better. This is much better, you think as you dip your hand back between your legs and into the waiting slick. You drag a finger in tight circles over your clit and do your best to calm the racing thoughts that flit back to images of Poe’s body.

The body that is currently pressed to yours, though not at all in the manner you would prefer.

Poe grunts then, making you lose your rhythm.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted you, you know.”

You cut your answering gasp off at the source, not daring to make a sound lest it interrupt this information that you desperately needed to here. He interprets your silence correctly and continues.

“I’ve thought about you. When I’m in the cockpit on my way to some distant planet. When not even hyper speed can get me there quick enough before thoughts of you creep in.” He almost sounds mad, but you get it. The emotions coursing through your body along with the hormones are driving you wild and you don’t know how to feel.

“What…what are the thoughts about?” you can’t help but ask.

“I’d love to say it’s your smile or your brains or something sweet like that. And I do think about those things too, don’t get me wrong,” he says on a hoarse chuckle. “But it’s mainly your body.”

You slip a third finger inside your cunt as he says this, his words and the feeling mixing to cause you to let out an unchecked moan. You feel Poe’s body shudder against you.

“Shit Sweets you’re killing me.” You feel him tense as his hand begins moving faster. “I think about how you look poured into that flight suit. The way your tits and ass jiggle when you hop into your x-wing – fuck.” Another shudder wracks through his body and you can’t take it anymore. The way you’re touching yourself isn’t the way you usually do it. Not in those rare moments where you’ve got the sleeping quarters to yourself and you’re able to get yourself off in your bunk to images of a chiseled jawline, a clothed bulge, rippling muscles, soft, curly hair…

You abruptly pitch yourself forward to balance yourself on your knees and one hand while the remaining hand redoubles its efforts between your legs. The shift in position ends your physical contact with Poe and he swivels to see.

“What are you – ”

“Don’t turn around,” you gasp out. Your new angle works in your favor as your swollen clit becomes more sensitive, pulled down by gravity so that every swipe of your finger becomes more potent. “But for the love of gods, don’t stop talking.”

Poe is taken aback by your sudden forwardness, but he doesn’t let it faze him for long. Instead you hear his renewed efforts at jerking off as the sound of skin swiping across skin, made smoother by spit and precum, gets louder behind you.

“What do you want me to talk about? How much I wish it was your tight little pussy I was fucking instead of my fist?”

The whimper you release at that statement is unlike any sound you’ve ever made and it only spurs Poe on.

“And I just know you’re tight. I know it. And wet too, just like I guessed you were. I can hear it, baby,” he practically growls and you become intensely away of the slick, creamy sounds coming from the rapid in and out, in and out rhythm of your fingers delving into your cunt. “You’re dripping, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” You close your eyes and hear his words and wish the fingers inside you were harder, thicker, him.

“You wish it was my cock inside you, I know you do. You don’t want to admit it but you wish I was pounding into you, making you feel good. Making the ache go away.”

Your answering whine confirms his beliefs and he lets out a triumphant grunt.

“Fuck, baby. I want it, too. Bury myself deep inside of you and fuck you till that drink wears off and you’re still screaming for me, that’s how good it would be.”

“Oh gods.”

“Tell me who you’re wet for.”

“Y-you.” It comes out small. You’re shocked that you even say it, especially with how much you’ve been fighting all of this. You want it. You want it in your bones and in your blood and in your tight, spasming cunt. But you also want Poe’s friendship. Want him to tousle your hair on the way to the hanger. Want him to keep sending you funny messages over your data pad, constantly trying to outdo your own silly riddles and jokes. Want to tease him and eat dinner with him in the mess hall and slap him when he says something stupid and yell at him when he does something dangerous and cry when he doesn’t come back on time from a mission…

A sob finds its way out of your body, sandwiched between two moans. You’re not sure Poe even heard it until his voice reaches your ears again, this time gentler.

“Sweets? Is this working for you?”

You take a shuddering breath before answering.

“No.”

You practically hear Poe slump in defeat, the rhythm of his hand on his length slowing down. You bite your lip before continuing.

“Take me, Poe.”

“What?” Poe whirls around so fast you feel the air woosh over you as he disturbs it. You jump to your feet, still facing away from him and yank your flight suit over your shoulders and down your body, stepping out so it pools on the ground. He watches as you get back down on your hands and knees before him in your underwear, ass in the air, waiting for him to catch up.

“I need you, Poe. Just…just please get inside me,” you say, reaching back to pull the damp fabric of your panties aside, exposing your glistening, swollen folds for him to see.

You don’t have to ask him a third time. He’s on you so fast that you’re confused by his motions. It takes a few seconds before you realize that he’s taken your discarded flight suit and stretched it out on the ground, positioning you over it so that your hands and knees are protected from the dirt. The sweetness of this considerate action is offset by the way his fingers dig harshly into your hips, maneuvering your ass so that it lines up with his pelvis. You tilt forward, aided by pressure on your lower back which raises your click cunt to the level of his cock.  

“I’m going to make you feel so good – ”

“No more words, Dameron. Just shut up and get your cock inside – FUCK.” He spears you mid-sentence and you immediately fall down onto your elbows. Your ass still in the air, held in place by his hard grip, receives a smack and you cry out, feeling no pain. Only pleasure as the sting ripples through you and into your clenching cunt. He feels it deep inside you and groans.

“Maybe you’re the one who needs to shut up, baby.” His words issue forth from gritted teeth. “Always fucking teasing me with that fucking mouth.” His hips rut into yours, taking up an unforgiving pace, while the rest of his body folds over yours so his chest pressed flush to your back. One hand closes tightly around your chin, wrenching up your head and dragging a finger over your bottom lip which has grown plump from biting. “This beautiful, bossy fucking mouth. Always telling me off, telling me what to do.”

Your tongue darts out to meet his skin and his other fingers caress your chin in response. It’s a stark contrast to the almost feral way he is still clutching your hip and driving into you over and over.

There’s almost no resistance. You’re tight, cunt clutching onto his throbbing cock in an effort to keep him buried inside, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been and it’s making his thrusts effortless. You assume it’s a side effect of the drink. But in some part of your brain you can’t believe that a plant could possibly make a man’s cock feel as good as Poe’s does right now inside you. How a plant could cause you to feel pleasure that is not simply rooted in the way his hand drags down from your jaw to wrench your breasts out of the cups of your bra. How a plant could in any way magnify the surely already intoxicating feeling of Poe’s mouth working at the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder.

“This working, baby? This doing it?” Poe checks in then, not relenting in his thrusts. Never relenting. “You’re squeezing me, so I know your little pussy likes it.”

A shuddering gasp kicks through you before you can answer his question and he laughs. The vibrations go straight from his cock to your clit and you whimper some more.

“Your sounds. I want to record these little sounds you’re making and play them back when I’m flying. Have you fill the space in my x-wing till I can’t take it any more.” Poe presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, nipping and then laving the skin over with his tongue. “I’m going to hear these sounds in my dreams.”

“It’s…just…the drink,” you practically hiccup, barely able to form thoughts from the way your body has focused all energy, all recognitions of nerve endings to the space between your thighs. Poe slaps your ass again and you keen.

“Just listen to yourself, baby. No drink is making you sound this hot. That’s all you, Sweets.”

Before you can argue further you do take a second to listen. To the way your shallow breaths mix with whimpers and whines. The gurgle in the back of your throat when his cock bounces against your cervix. He’s right. It is hot. You are hot. You reach a hand down to your clit, desperate to increase the already mind-blowing stimulation, greedy for more.

“You feel so good. You’re sosososogood,” you barely manage to slur. Despite your inability to fully speak you make the attempt because you assume that if hearing your gasps is egging him on, your words will amplify it. And amplify it they do. Poe’s hips stutter for a second before he drops down heavier on you, thrusting deeper and from a more primal place. A hand savagely kneads at one of your breasts, playing with the nipple.  

“I’ve never been this full. I can’t take it, I can’t…”

“Seems like you’re taking it pretty well, baby,” Poe coos, pressing more kisses to the side of your neck.

“I need m-more,” you gasp, realizing with urgency that the pressure in your core is finally building past the plateau of the last…hour? Half an hour? How long had this been going on? All night? It doesn’t matter because Poe’s inside you and he’s listening to you and suddenly you’re being slammed into with all the force he can muster. He expertly wrings pleasure from your body and you feel yourself careening toward a release that you can’t describe. Just out of reach and full of all the potential energy inherent in an object rocketing toward the moon only to soon plummet back to the depths.

“Poe! I…I…oh fuck…oh gods…I…”

“Go on, baby. Cum.”

“You ha- ahhhh. But you…y-you…” You’re babbling. You’re incoherent, not wanting to leave him behind in the blinding ache that comes before release. Your hands are fisting in the flight suit below you, desperate for something solid, something substantial to hold onto.

“Don’t wait for me, Sweets. Let go.”

And then his hands are closing over yours, fingers interlacing and squeezing down, pinning you to the ground with white knuckles that would hurt if you weren’t squeezing him right back, finally grounded in the way you needed.

And you’re cumming.

And cumming.

You feel every muscle in your body seize and spasm and bliss roils out through you in waves. You shake and stutter under him, feeling fresh wetness gush down around his cock as he fucks you through the feeling. You keep waiting for it to stop but it doesn’t, it only intensifies. It must be a side effect. Of the drink not the man. But when you feel yourself transcending the moment, the way your soul feels like it is literally floating above you, you use the out of body experience to take in the man who is causing this pleasure. The way he cages you in, bracing you through the storm of your orgasm, giving more and more to keep the flame burning as long as possible.

His muscles ultimately seize sometime around when your soul seems to sink back into your body and you’re one again enough with your senses that you can feel him paint your walls with sticky, hot cum. He doesn’t drop his weight on you like other men have after the completion of such exertions. Other men who had focused more on the destination than the journey, leaving you as wanting for release as you were wanting for air under the pressure of their body weight. Instead, Poe pulls you of you and flops to his back in the grass beside you. Without him holding you up you crumble down, face pressing into the fabric of your rumpled flight suit instead of the dirt, thanks to Poe.

A few minutes pass, silent except for the sound of your slowing gasps for air. When your breathing evens Poe sits up on his haunches to guide you back into your flight suit. You’re sticky from sweat and your combined cum, but you couldn’t care less with your bones liquified and your eyelids heavy. Gone is the buzzing ache, in its place a heavy sleepiness. When Poe lays you, now clothed, gingerly back down on the ground you automatically curl into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around your body.

Neither of you shares another word. You don’t have to.

Because shortly after you doze off. And for the first time in a long time your final thoughts before sleep overtakes you are not of the dread the morning will bring, but the solace you found in the night.

~*~

When you wake it’s to a dawn as grey as all the ones before it. Hazy with receding fog and with the promise of all the danger that looms ahead in the hours soon to follow. One of the planet’s suns has already breached the horizon, and you raise a hand to cover your eyes as you peer out from under the x-wing’s protective wing. Looking down you take stock.

Your flight suit is on but fully unzipped, leaving your chest and stomach entirely exposed, all the way down to your lower belly. A large hand covers one of your breasts, fingers twitching against your flesh as the man attached to it continues to dream. You follow the length of his arm to take in his body, tucked close into your own, equally unzipped, his broad torso showing through the gaping fabric. You watch Poe’s abdominal muscles contract with his inhales and exhales for a moment while you check in with your body.

The humming from last night is gone, that much is for certain. This makes you believe that the effects of the drink have worn off. You’re quick to question this hypothesis, however, when Poe stirs in his sleep and his hand squeezes down a bit on your breast. Your breath catches in your throat and fire shoots through your veins. A lingering symptom, you wonder. Or perhaps just a normal, biological reaction to sexual stimuli. You kick yourself mentally because of course it has to be the latter. It couldn’t be the third option which you won’t even allow yourself to fully consider.  

You require a shower urgently, it occurs to you suddenly. And food, a realization that coincides with a rumbling in your empty stomach. Knowing you’ll never have a good enough excuse to extricate yourself from this gorgeous man’s arms you steel your nerves and pull away. When you stand, Poe groans and allows an eye to crack open, his hand flying up to shield his eyes from the rising sun. You’re silhouetted against the dawn and he takes in your outline. The curves of you.

“Morning, Sweets,” he says, voice hoarse with sleep this time instead of sex.

“Morning, Fly Boy,” you reply simply with a small smile. You feel a buzzing in the pocket of your suit then and pull out your mini com unit, even more portable than your usual data pad. The message that blares across the screen and you relay it before Poe can reach his own device which had similarly vibrated.

“We’ve got a new mission. Briefing is in an hour and then we take off.” The information feels stilted as it leaves your lips. How can you feel so entirely, earth-shatteringly changed and yet in many ways everything is still the same. The sun still came up. The war still rages on.

You look down at Poe and his intense expression as he watches you makes you think that he’s wondering the same thing.

Your heart thumps in your chest, this time unaided by any drugged drink or the eyes or hands of a man whose existence seemed both your making and undoing. Routine is the only thing that can calm these nerves. Routine is what is required to survive war. Routine and protocol and boundaries.

You zip up your flight suit with finality.

“See you at the briefing?” you ask, though its more statement than question.

“Of course.” Poe’s response is quiet as he continues to watch you from his reclining position. You’re still above him and at a distance, a position he often associates with you.

You smile and give him a good natured salute before turning and making you way back toward the town where you know the rest of the Resistance members are already bustling about and preparing for the day.

Another day you hope you, and Poe, will be lucky enough to outlive.

~*~

Doing a smaller taglist since it’s a Poe fic and I’m not sure if everyone on my usual taglist is into it (Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed for future work!): @paper-n-ashes @mariesackler @tlcwrites @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess @sacklerscumrag @jynzandtonic @millenialcatlady @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @hopeamarsu @direnightshade @leather-flannel-liquor @fizzywoohoo @aliveandlonely @wayward-rose @safarigirlsp @emeraldsiren20 @finn-ray-nal-beads @maryforyou @maybe-your-left

[gnocchighoul]

The boys (+undateables?) reactions when they discover MC is actually a vampire?

....so I’m a dingus and didn’t realize that this was also for the undateables and just wrote it for the brothers, my bad 😅 Part two maybe? 👀

WARNING: as this is about vampires, it’s a little bit morbid. I strayed away from being too graphic, but y’know. Vampires. There’s death and blood and such. 

Enjoy! :D

~

Lucifer

In hindsight, he really should have figured it out on his own.

But it’s not like he’s been around enough humans lately to know what Normal human behavior is. 

So he just kinda took your... quirks at face value.

So what if you’re far too comfortable with the Devildom’s constant state of nighttime? Solomon doesn’t seem to mind it either, so maybe humans are just more nocturnal now.

And perhaps your Very Strong aversion to garlic is a little odd, but Mammon wouldn't eat it either for the first 600 years of his life, so it’s not that weird.

You’re also not phased by constantly being surrounded by demons and monsters, which is a little strange, but maybe you’re just like the ancient greeks. A monster fucker.

You feeling right at home in the Devildom is auspicious for the exchange program, so he doesn’t bother dwelling on it.

Though maybe he does find it a little bit weird when you really insist that he start drinking cranberry juice.

(It’s just for health benefits of course, totally has nothing to do with you prepping your next meal)

So what, you may ask, triggers his big lightbulb moment?

You fall off the roof.

And you just get right back up.

Now he knows that humans aren’t supposed to be THAT durable, so he stops you from scaling the side of the fucking house with your bare hands, and very eloquently asks you, “What the fuck?” 

You shake him off. “What? Mammon and I are playing roof-ball.” 

Lucifer stares. “You fell. I saw how hard you hit the ground. You should be dead.”

You laugh. “Dead? Just from a little fall like that? Are you serio-ohhh wait. You don’t know, do you?” 

You give him your biggest, cheesiest grin and—oh. 

Fangs.

...And now he understands why you want him to drink cranberry juice.

Mammon

You are, by far, the weirdest human he’s ever met. 

Which is saying something, because Solomon is literally just a few blocks away.

Seriously, despite camping out in your room nearly every single night, Mammon has never seen you sleep, he’s pretty fucking sure that sometimes you don’t even breathe, you won’t step foot into the House of Lamentation unless someone invites you in, and who the hell hates garlic that much?? 

But you’ve also expressed your intense dislike for crosses, so he supposes that you’re not unredeemable. 

Just weird.

But it’s incredibly annoying how you wont sleep. Your tossin’ and turnin’ is killing him, why the fuck can’t you just settle down? You need to just put your DDD down and sleep already, dammit.

He sits up, ready to tear you a new one—and pauses. 

“Um,” his voice is high, somewhat uncertain, and your eyes snap over to look at him. “Why are you looking at coffins for sale?” 

You sigh, a bit wistfully. “I just can’t stand sleeping in a bed anymore. I didn’t want to be rude, so I really did try, but it's been a couple hundred years since I last had one and it’s just murder on my back. I think I’m gonna just have to get a coffin. They’re so much more comfortable.” 

Briefly, Mammon considers running. 

Instead, he says, “What the fuck?” 

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You do know I’m a vampire, right?” 

...What the fuck—

Mammon lays back down—crosses his arms over his chest with a huff and pretends that he isn’t totally freaked the fuck out. “‘Course I do, don’t be stupid. Now go to sleep already.” 

So that he can escape before you try to eat him.

“Mammon,” you sing, leaning over the bed to loom over him. He swallows hard—can’t look away from your sharp, toothy grin. 

You coo, “I can hear the scared little pitter patter of your heart, darling.”

He squeaks.

Levi

Honestly, Levi is so so happy to have another irl friend who’s into video games that he looks past your strangeness.

You like to stay indoors and play games!! That’s something he has in common with you that his brothers don’t, and that’s all that matters!

...Though he does find it a little weird how sometimes you just kinda sniff him. 

The first dozen times he nearly had a heart attack, and when he asked why you were doing it, he Really wasn't expecting you to shrug and say “I dunno, you just smell tasty” 

Seriously. Tasty? Are you Beel or something, what’s that supposed to mean?!

He’s not entirely sure why you’re a bit of a shut in gamer though, because despite your, ah, quirks, you’re still so much cooler than he is, so what’s the deal with that?

When he asks, you just shrug and say, “Old habits die hard, I guess. Real sunshine hurts, but virtual doesn’t, so I just got kinda used to living through games and staying indoors.”

“Oh.” Levi’s a bit surprised, but sympathetic. “So, you sunburn easily?” 

He’s not entirely sure why you’re laughing now, since that wasn’t a joke. He was just trying to be friendly :(

But then you hug him and he’s too flustered to be offended anymore jndcks

So, when does it finally click for Levi that you’re a vampire?

You guys are having a game night in his room.

He accidentally takes a sip of your caprisun and realizes, very quickly, that it is not the refreshing juice of a caprisun pouch.

He throws up a little bit.

And screams.

And maybe blacks out for a few seconds.

But when he finally calms down and lets you explain, he’s pretty damn enchanted, because this is just like Help, My Roommate Is A Vampire And I Didn’t Know Until A Vampire-Hunter Mistook Me For Them And Attacked Me!! :D 

Satan

Satan considers himself to be somewhat of a detective, y’know. His brain is just filled to the brim with Big Smarts

Naturally, he puts that jelly thicc thought tank of his to good use and realizes very quickly that you aren’t totally human. 

At first, he isn’t totally sure what you are.

And then a coffin gets delivered to the house, which upon seeing you cheer “Oh sweet, my new bed!!” aaaand he puts the pieces together.

You become somewhat of a case study to him. You’re the first vampire he’s ever encountered and he just wants to know everything and anything about your life.

He’s so intrigued by you.

But you frustrate him SO much.

He wants to know about how you were turned!! It’s not like he has any other vampires that he can ask about their experience!! And you fucking tell him a different story every day!!

“A cat jumped over my deceased body!”

“I was stabbed and the wound wasn’t treated with boiling water!” 

“On a dark and stormy night, I came across a palace and the owner, a hospitable gentleman, let me take refuge there. But then, I quickly realized that I was actually a hostage, and when I tried to escape, that fucker turned me!”

“Nobody put an obolus in my mouth to pay the toll of the Styx, so Charon the ferryman sent me back! What a great guy.” 

“A chupacabra bit me!”

Needless to say, he considers breaking the wooden leg off one of the dining room chairs and stabbing you with it, but the lecture he would get from Lucifer just isn’t worth the effort. 

He’s gonna pull the truth out of you one of these days.

Asmo

“My my, darling, what sharp teeth you have~” Asmo purrs, lifting a finger to brush against them, doe-eyes wide and curious. “The better to eat me with, hopefully?” 

You smile. “Something like that.”

And you fuckin’ bite his finger.

His scream is fantastic. If you actually draw blood next time, maybe he’ll even shatter the windows! 

He swats your leg sharply with a silk folding fan and cries, “What if you had broken my skin!? Do you have any idea how much time and effort goes into maintaining this soft, supple skin?! What’s wrong with you, you psychopath?”

“Don’t hit me,” you pout, scooting away from him. “I couldn’t help it! You just smell so sweet and I haven’t had any blood in a while, so—”

“Huh?” Asmo blinks, looking a bit confused. Then recovers far too quickly and waggles his eyebrows at you. “Oh, so that’s what you’re into! What a pleasant surprise~” 

You thunk him on the back of the head. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to tease a vampire?”

Asmo’s grin could rival the sun.

“A vampire?! Well why didn’t you say so sooner?” 

He’s already taking off his shirt.

“Get over here already and take a bite out of me~”

Beel

When he finds out that you’re a vampire, his first thought is to worry over if you can eat normal food or not.

He’s very relieved when you tell him that you can, so long as you’ve had enough blood, but that garlic is a very big no-no.

Naturally, you two bond over how both of you never quite feel full. 

It’s not uncommon for the other house members to find you two laying face down on the floor, tummies rumbling, whining about how you’re staaaaarving

You carry around snacks for him, and Beel makes sure that you’ve always got access to blood (whether that means stashing blood bags, letting you feed from him, or a combo of both ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

He’s probably going to be the least weirded out by your ~undead tendencies~

Honestly, he’s a bit relieved by how strong you are. The last thing he ever wants to do is hurt you or see you get hurt, and it gives him peace of mind when he realizes that you’re actually pretty durable!

But it does give him a fucking heart attack the first time he sees you yeet yourself out a second story window to crush poor, poor unassuming Mammon.

He also really loves how your body temperature naturally runs cold. He’s a space heater, you’re an icicle—it just works. Snuggle time is good :)

He totally compares the size of your incisors with his jkdcnkj

He just thinks you’re really neat!!!

But he is very sympathetic about how you cant eat good garlic bread :(

Belphie

Listen.

We all know this emo boy is a vampire fucker, probably even more so than Asmo.

(He read Twilight. He saw all the movies. He had merch.)

(Fuck Edward and Jacob though, he was Team Alice all the way.)

(If he can stay awake long enough, he reads really shitty vampire romance novels.)

He just thinks vampires are hot, okay? He can’t help that his soul longs to be a vampire fucker.

Just accept it into your heart. Belphie already has.

So needless to say, he’s THRILLED when he finds out that you’re a vampire. He tries to play it cool though and pretends that he isn’t immediately trying to jump your bones dfghjkjh

He overheard you telling Satan that you got bitten by a Chupacabra, and they’re known for going after cows right? 

He is a cowboy, y’know, guess you’re just gonna have to go to him now when you’re thirsty, y’know, since you were bitten by a Chupacabra. it just makes sense, really ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(No it doesn’t)

(But let’s be real, are you gonna pass up the chance to snuggle the shit out of him AND get a snack out of it? No. No you’re not.)

(He totally makes you arm wrestle Beel to recreate the “Iconic” twilight scene with Emmett and Bella.)

(When he realizes that you’re strong, he’s gonna make you give him piggyback rides, just like Edward and Bella :) and no he doesn’t care how ridiculous you both look)

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Glass Swords

Summary:  Tovar knew he had bad luck–it came with the curse the witch gave him on his thirteenth birthday. Trapped in a contract by a band of bloodthirsty noblemen who use Tovar for his skill with a sword, he has all but resigned himself to a life of servitude. But then a job shoves him into the path of a princess who almost makes him smile. (Cinderella!AU)

Pairing: Pero Tovar/F!Reader

Warnings: None really. I make an allusion to the events of the movie but you don’t have to have seen it to understand this. 

Word Count: 4.8k

(Banner by my darling @starlight-starwrites​)

Or you can read on Ao3!

Once upon a time, there was a boy who seemed to have remarkably good luck. He was born to a wealthy, aristocratic family, and being the firstborn and a son guaranteed him a title of his own. His horse always came first in races, his opponents were always making simple mistakes in duels. He always had the keen eye to find a forgotten bit of coin on the ground. His first shot always hit its make when he was hunting.

Yes, Pero Tovar was lucky.

Until his luck soured at the hands of a woods witch.

On his thirteenth birthday, on a hunt with his band of friends and loyal servants, he darted into the forest to call for the hunting dog that had gone after gods-knows-what instead of the fowl they’d been hoping for when they set out. Again and again he called for the hound with no luck.

“Your dog has ruined my garden,” came a sudden voice behind him.

Pero turned to see a woman, old and shrouded in tattered grey robes, emerging from the forest shadows. An answering howl soon followed and a muddied hound bounded up to him, remnants of flowers and trampled vegetables hanging from his panting mouth.

And Pero laughed. What else was he supposed to do?

“For too long I have been held at the whim of your family. They have forgotten the treaty they signed when they came here, building your castle on my land and promising that you would provide. That you would never forget. But you have. And then you laugh when my little source of happiness was trampled by a hound.” Words tumbled from her chapped lips in a language he did not recognize and soon felt as if a bucket of icy river water had been dropped over his head.

“What did you do?” He hissed, feeling himself shake like a scared deer.

“I have made sure the world treats you as it treats me.” Her weathered mouth stretched into a smile he could see beneath the cowl. “But I am not cruel. I only want you to learn a lesson. But your lot seem stubborn so I would not be surprised if it took you the rest of your life.” She stepped forward and pulled a blade from the folds of her robes and Pero took an instinctive step back.

Almost instantly, his heel caught on a root and he tumbled to the moss-covered ground, pain zig-zagging up his spine as he landed.

The witch only laughed and continued forward. She twisted the blade in her hand and she held it out to him. And it was not as if he could say no. Not now. The short sword was clear—like glass. As soon as his hand wrapped around the handle, he felt the cold stone form to his grip, imprinting itself to his touch.

“When you’ve pierced the heart of a princess with your glass sword, then and only then will the curse lift.”

“A-a-a princess?” Pero parroted, feeling his stomach drop.

But the witch was gone and all he had was the glass sword.

His bad luck made itself known when he collided with his sister as they both rounded corners and she tumbled down the stone stairs of their home. Sancha was fine, thankfully but Pero would never forget how the blood pooled around her head or the scream she let out as she fell.

That was his fault. He knew it would only get worse as time progressed. He would not endanger his family. And so, Pero left a short note for his mother and father, telling them that he would return once he’d earned his honor on his own. The note he left for his sister told the truth, apologize for her injuring asking for her forgiveness even though he knew he already had it. Sancha was too pure of heart to ever hold any anger.

He set out. At first, trying to find another witch to counteract the curse. Then, to healers who promised anything and everything for the right price. And then, little by little, his hope faded. For a moment, he did consider driving the short blade through the heart of a princess—any princess—to just be rid of the curse. So he could see his family again. So he could live without worrying about bridges, loose bricks, or roots—or the millions of other things that the witch had made unlucky.

But he couldn’t. And in desperation to stay fed, he took up work as a mercenary. Another unlucky decision. It had led him to far flung lands that would have been an adventure to rival any explorer—he had fought creatures from another world!—but he did not enjoy any of it (aside from a few fleeting moments). And he could kill people who were trying to kill him all the time. Pero was good at it, he found. But it did not necessarily give him much opportunity to even know any princesses or be able to pick them out of a crowd so he could…stab them.

His bad luck continued.

When he failed to return to his employers, a group of nefarious noblemen from some country he didn’t care to remember, with the Black Powder they had requested, there were consequences. And now he was stuck in a contract, unable to leave his ‘employment’ because a bottle of ink had spilled across the contract and blotted out a very telling bit of information. He could not leave unless they were all dead. And if he broke that contract, his life would be forfeit.

He never would have signed—obviously—if he had been able to read that line.

But it was done. He was trapped. His bad luck mostly did not endanger his life—and he was sure the witch made sure of that. It would be no fun if it killed him and he was able to rest in death. The closest he had come to death because of his luck was when an ornamental sword fell from its hold on the wall and nearly took his eye.

One of the noblemen who benefitted from his terrible contract said the scar made him look fearsome. But he said it with a curdled milk smirk that rolled Pero’s stomach. It wasn’t a compliment, he knew.

And now he was called in by his ‘employers’ to settle another job. He vaguely listened—something about needing the little kingdom’s valuable port for some trivial reason and the easiest way to acquire the port was for Pero to kill at least the king and his eldest son so the second-born son could become king. Apparently, the noblemen who were employing him had an agreement with the power hungry prince. Pero was sure there were more details but he did not care to commit them to memory. He knew how to kill and his timeline.

That was all that really mattered.

But first, he needed to scout through the dense forest surrounding the castle to find a way in.

He weaved between trees as he started toward the castle. The outer perimeter walls had been easily climbed without drawing attention and while the surrounding grounds were vast, they were not heavily patrolled. As he continued to close the distance to the dark stone of the castle, Pero started to believe that this might the easiest job his contract had ever permitted him. The one solace he had was still being able to learn languages easily so he was able to learn of this mostly-unattended part of the perimeter wall by listening at the nearest market.

The sound of a horse’s hooves on the drying leaves drew his attention, his head whipping to the side, to one of the few bits of sunlight that slipped through the thick trees overhead.

It was a woman—one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, if he was being truthful—sitting atop a horse. She was smiling up at the birds as they sang in the branches. She was dressed in a simple smock and her horse was unsaddled. She was probably a maid from the castle.

But that did not detract from how his throat tightened as he looked at her. She was, after all, beautiful. It was almost embarrassing how he didn’t even realize she had spotted him until it was too late.

“Hello, sir.” Her voice was kind on his ears and he was instantly wondering if she would speak again.

“Hello, my lady.”

“Are you lost? It is not often I see strangers in the kingswood.” She nudged her horse toward him, uncaring of the danger strangers often present. Or maybe she was unknowing. There was a certain sweetness to her that Pero knew could not be feigned.

“I am hunting, my lady. I hope I did not disturb you.”

She shook her head. “I was not aware the king was having a hunting party today. I hope I did not scare away your prey.”

“No, my lady. I have just lost the rest of our party. Do you work at the castle?”

“Yes.” Her smile seemed to be hiding something but Pero thought little of it, instead focusing on how the light made her eyes sparkle.

“Do they treat you well? I am sure I could put in a good word for you,” he said, knowing his roguish smile was starting to cut across his face. He might have the worst luck but he still knew how to make a pretty woman smile.

And it worked because she demurely averted her eyes before biting her lip for a moment. “They treat me much better than they should,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I thank you for the offer.” She cleared her throat before looking at him again. “I can fetch you a bit of water or ale from the kitchens, if you would like? You must be parched.”

“No, no, my lady. But you are kind to offer.”

The sound of someone calling out in the distance had her turning her head with a frown. “I’ve lost track of the hour. I must go.”

And then her dark horse was setting off, galloping between the black-barked trees, and disappearing from sight before he could even ask for her name.

Pero did not find a way into the castle that day. He could have, but he didn’t. His employers allowed him another day of scouting in the woods and he happily took advantage of it and hoped his curse would subside just for a day, or even a few hours, so he might happen upon the maid again.

And his silent plea was heard as he found her at the base of a large tree, a well-worn book settled on her lap.

“Hello again,” she said as she spotted him.

“Hello, my lady.”

She patted the bit of grass beside her and Pero wavered for a moment before taking the offered seat. “Hunting again today?”

“No. I must confess that I was hoping to see you.”

Her answering giggle had something squeezing in the deep recesses of his chest. “Well, you have found me.” She closed the book carefully and turned to face him a little more. “What is your name? I have tried to guess it but I do not think any name I might have conjured would suit you.”

He could have told her his true name. It was not as if she would be able to stop him in his quest. But he knew to never think he could outsmart his curse. “I am Tovar.” And then he quickly added his title that he had not used in decades: “Marquess Tovar.” As if that would somehow make his lie about hunting with the royals more believable.

She gave him her name in return and then started to gently, simply pull him into conversation about anything and everything—from the animals he was unfamiliar with in the forest, to learning how the she grew up inside the castle and still got lost in its twisting, turning halls and rooms.

He knew he should be committing the hints she was giving to him about the castle’s layout to memory but didn’t want to. He only want to continue to hear her speak. She would ask him questions too, about how he was finding her homeland and if he still “did not require a bit of drink to slake his thirst from the kitchens.”

She was…sunlight. And such a sharp contrast to the darkness of the kingdom she resided in with its masses of dark stone, fog, and black wood trees. She did not deserve such darkness. Sunlight. She should have been bathed in sunlight, in warmth, in all things light and lovely. Not here. Not in the dark and cold. Even if it was her home—even if she called it home with a tilt of her beautiful lips.

“Tell me, Tovar. Are you coming to the Masque tomorrow night? I would like to see you again.”

“There is a Masque tomorrow?”

She nodded with another smile and stood, brushing the moss and dirt from her little dress and apron. “The King is celebrating his birthday and his daughter has finally returned from her time abroad.”

“A princess?”

She laughed and held out a hand toward him, helping him to his feet. “Yes. I thought the king would have told you about her when you were hunting.”

“I’ve only heard of his sons,” he said, not entirely lying.

“Either way, will you come to the Masque tomorrow?” She looked so hopeful, so happy. He could not tell her no. And it was with a soft kiss to his cheek that she bid him goodbye and he was left in the dark of the forest, watching her disappear again.

A Royal Masque. And a princess. Perhaps his luck was turning on its own.

This would provide the perfect opportunity for him—kill the princess and be able to dance with the woman whose lips pleasantly burned his skin.

**

It had been easy to procure an invitation to the Masque. It had been harder to find an outfit that would not gain him unwanted attention. The shops were nearly all too busy or too empty but he did eventually find a decent enough ensemble and matching mask without emptying his coffers too much. His employers had been pleased to know he had found a way into the castle without too much fanfare and seemed to approve of his plan to carry out their plot at the masque. (And if another royal died that night, who would think that it was not part of a larger plan instead of a desperate man trying to break a curse?)

Pero handed over his invitation to the major-domo standing in front of the black and gold doors and was finally ushered inside—even after a few of the knights eyed the short sword sheathed at his hip. The halls were filled with more shining dark stone and gilded suits of armor from centuries past. Paintings and tapestries were hung along the walls, depicting the kingdom’s fabled rise to power. Blooms of white flowers were littered about, a sharp contrast to the darkness that seemed to permeate each corner of this little kingdom.

No couples had already to the floor to dance yet but he did spot a few practicing an almost-familiar set of measured steps away from onlookers. The raised dais filled with a few ornately carved chairs—thrones, he supposed—was empty. His targets were not here yet.

But perhaps she was.

He scanned the crowd but did not spot her—even with everyone wearing masks, he was sure he would recognize her from leagues away.

Music suddenly blared, announcing the arrival of someone important. He turned with the rest of the crowd and listened as the royals were announced. There was the youngest son, the next, and then the eldest. The king was escorted by his daughter, but the answering applause and cheer drowned out her name and Pero could only crane his neck too much to try and get a look before he started to look suspicious.

The first official song was called and the heir apparent took the dance with his betrothed before other couples were allowed to join them on the gleaming wooden floor.

Pero continued to scan the crowd, briefly touching the small vials he’d hidden within his doublet, and found the servant in charge of bringing goblets of wine to the king without much trouble.

It was easy.

But then a woman dressed in fine clothes of the kingdom’s sigil was striding toward him, uncaring of the masses of people bowing and curtseying in her wake and she only slowed to a stop when she was right in front of him. This must be the princess. A mask of gold covered most of her features but her eyes sparkled in such a way that Pero could have sworn he had seen them before. They were alight with recognition and mischief.

“Dance with me,” she whispered.

“Your highness, I-”

The princess tilted her mask up and…

And that was when he realized, the girl from the forest and the princess…were the same person.

His fleeting moment of happiness had actually been another stroke of bad luck. How cruel.

She looked just as beautiful in her finery and jewels as she did in the smock she had donned in the forest. Her grip was gentle as she carefully started to lead him in the dance and didn’t laugh when he stumbled over her gilded shoes. Eventually, thankfully, he righted himself and was able to properly dance with her, letting the music guide his steps with her gentle corrections whenever he missed one or two.

“You’re a princess,” he said, hating the moment they left his lips.

“I am. Very astute of you, Tovar.” She laughed and stepped back from him as the song ended with a flourish and clapped for the minstrels. But then she turned back to him “Come with me,” she murmured, just low enough for him to hear. The princess didn’t wait for his answer and grasped his hands, quickly leading him through the crowd, some of whom tried to stop them, asking for his name, for a moment of the princess’ time, on and on it went. But she did not falter. Her grip did not loosen.

Not until they were out of the humid air of the ballroom and in the beautiful, cooled night air did she finally stop. Her smile was still wide and his face hurt as he felt himself trying to, unconsciously, mirror her expression. His face was not used to the movement. “What are you up to, princess?”

“I have something to show you.” She squeezed his hands once. “Do you have somewhere else you’d rather be? I don’t mean to steal you away if you have someone else waiting for you.”

Pero shook his head. “No. No, princess. I am happy to know you want my time as much as I desire yours.”

She bit her lip with a soft giggle. “Well, I do hope you like it.” She stepped back to link her arm through his, and continued to guide him down the shining palace steps and into the lush, green gardens. It was as easy for her to pull little bits of information from him as she tossed her golden mask into a bush without a care.

“Tell me of your homeland.”

“It is beautiful, your highness. Filled with sunlight and…” he drifted off, finally allowing himself to think of his home and family for the first time in years. “I miss it very much.”

She was quiet as he thought and did not seem to mind as he came back to himself—a familiar, gentle smile on her lips as she looked at him. “You do not strike me as a man who would leave someone or someplace you love so fiercely without cause. What pushed you to do so, if I may be so bold?”

“Bad luck,” he answered simply. “But tell me, why were you in the forest? Not once, but twice and without an escort or lady’s maid.”

Her face twisted into a pout for a moment. “I must admit that I do not care for every bit of royal life. It can all be so…tedious.”

“So, you snuck away?”

She nodded. “Donned my maid’s dress and took my horse from the stables while the hand was busy tending to my brother’s mare. It took hours for them to even notice I’d missed luncheon.”

“Did you not just return from abroad? I would have assumed that they would scarcely let you out of their sights.”

She shook her head with a laugh as they slowed to a stop in front of rusted gate she opened and waved him through. A secret garden greeted them, filled with all the color that the rest of the kingdom seemed to lack. Even in the moonlight, he could see the vibrant yellow, pink, red, and orange hues of the flowers that were growing haphazardly and unkempt by practiced hands. It reminded him, achingly, of the gardens his mother and Sancha would tend to on their own at home. They had always liked the free-roaming blooms over the careful structure of the manicured grounds.

“They like having me close, true. But underfoot is nothing but annoyance for everyone involved.”

“What is this place?” He asked, letting her pull him onto a simply carved bench in the center of the garden.

She turned to him with another smile—she seemed so fond of smiling. “This was my mother’s secret place. Free from the confines of my father’s kingdom and his advisor’s disapproving eyes. She would bring me here when I was little and teach me the names of all the flowers and how to care for them.”

It did not take long for Tovar to recognize the hurt in her tone.

He wondered if she heard it in his voice when he spoke of home. Of his beautiful family in Spain. Perhaps that was why he rarely spoke of them. But he wanted to tell her. Wanted to tell her everything. So, he tried. He told her of the gardens his mother grew and refused to let their servants touch. Told her of how the fields around his home smelled sweet in the spring. Told her of all the colors he had seen on his adventures—even if he had to omit some bits of information to not reveal his true profession. And she listened keenly, asking questions and always seeming to think whatever he had said was interesting. In turn, she told him of her brief time in her mother’s ancestral kingdom, learning all she could and feeling torn when she knew she had to return to her home kingdom.

He was hardly aware of time passing, or how close they had grown on the bench until he heard a crier announcing the time—it was nearing midnight. He turned at the sudden noise and his hand slid across the bench—and quickly earned himself a handful of thorns to the webbing between his fingers. He hissed but hurriedly stopped himself as her gentle, soft hands cradled his and started to remove the thorns one by one. “Bad luck indeed,” she said, teasing. “I had trimmed those blooms back.”

Bad luck.

Bad luck.

Bad luck.

The sword at his hip grew heavier.

He could do it. He could run the blade through her chest and pierce her heart and be done with this wretched curse. But her eyes were shining in the moonlight and she smiled at him and he…couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Seeming to sense his distress, her smile faded. “Tovar? What ails you?” She reached out toward him and the moment her soft hand touched his cheek…he fled.

Decades of running toward dangers left him in an instant and he ran like a coward. Out of the garden, through the crowded ballroom where people shouted for him to stop, and out into the courtyard.

He fled. He ran until his legs gave out.

And it was only then that he noticed his sword was missing.

**

Hiding in the woods was not the most comfortable of living quarters but it was not the worst he had used since he had run from home.

He would not face his employers’ wrath. Another job left unfinished would cost him his head, he knew it. To survive, he hunted and forged, only moving into the outskirts of the market when he truly needed to buy something—like healing herbs for when he cut open his arm on a low hanging branch, or new boots after his toe caught on a sharp stone and tore the sole clean off.

Perhaps it was his need to survive and not be noticed, but it took Pero weeks to realize that the kingdom was in a tizzy.

The King had nearly been murdered as the masque and his second son was implicated in the plot. A band of foreign nobles had been arrested and their heads now sat on spikes outside the castle.

But that was not all.

Apparently, the princess had been scouring the kingdom looking for the man she had danced with at the masque—who had left behind a very peculiar short sword; its handle seeming to fit only one man’s hand.

It felt silly to let himself hope.

Could he? Should he let her find him? The curse still loomed. He would not subject her to the danger that seemed to follow him. He could not-

“There you are.”

Apparently he had been ruminating too long and had not noticed the small band of people approaching him at the edge of the market. The princess—and he was loathed to admit that he had momentarily let himself refer to her as His Princess—was standing in front of him with her familiar, beautiful smile on her lips and his sword in her hand. She turned it over, holding the hilt toward him as he hastily bowed.

“This is yours, yes?”

He nodded and reached out for it, feeling the familiar hand fit into his hand like it had for decades. But soon a gentle warmth bloomed up his hand until he could feel it burrowing in his chest. Something had changed.

**

When the king learned of Tovar’s true identity, he was able to grant his daughter’s wish of allowing their betrothal. A son of duke of a wealthy kingdom was a worthy match—and the king liked to make his daughter smile, too, even if it was at the side of a foreign duke who came into palace looking slovenly.

But Pero was still nervous. Even if he no longer tripped on stairs, bricks did not fall and nearly crush his skull, animals did not dart in front of his feet. He wanted to be sure—after all, he had not delivered a heart to the woods witch.

But, on the eve of their wedding, as Pero paced in his ornate and comfortable bedchamber, a sudden blast of cold air had him turning. In front of him stood a familiar woman. Her robes were still tattered but she was…glowing. Near ethereal. The woods witch had come again.

“I could feel your worries from leagues away, little duke.” Her smile was all teeth and he knew to keep quiet. “While I would have preferred the actual heart of that beautiful princess, the curse has been lifted. That little glass sword led her heart to you. You are free. I promise you that.”

“I am sorry,” Pero said, feeling the words rush out as he looked at her. “I am so sorry, my lady.”

“I know,” she hummed before she glanced around the room. “She will like Spain more, little duke. I promise you that.”

Before Pero could ask for specifics, the witch was gone in another gust of cold wind.

**

Pero watched his wife’s smile grow broader and broader as their carriage drew closer to his castle.

The sun was shining. The air was sweet with the scent of springtime flowers and green grasses. It was filled with the colors he had promised her that night in the garden.

His family greeted them warmly and his sweet mother and sister cried in joy at finally having him back home while his father did look quiet near tears, too. Pero just watched it all with a smile on his face, so large and persistent it hurt his face.

“It is beautiful here,” she whispered to him that night in their bedchamber. “But, of course, I would expect nothing more from the land who gave me you.”

Pero kissed her, smiling against her mouth.

His glass sword was forgotten on their bedside table.

He had all he needed, all the good luck in the world, right here in his arms.

And they lived happily ever after.

The end.

A/N: please let me know what you think! 

[jiminrings]

would you (III)

pairing: jimin x y/n

wordcount: 6k

And when you look at him with the same hint of bleariness in your eyes, and his shoulder feels the brunt of your tentative squeeze and sees the lightest of smiles on your lips —

Jimin knows everything that he needs to know.

or the one in which love isn’t one-sided anymore, jimin realizes his feelings, and yearning for you is what keeps him awake.

would you by pink sweats

part one | part two | part three

Both oddly yet unsurprisingly, Jungkook’s become a constant in your life.

For starters, both of you were lonely and needed someone, even if it’s by the sidelines. The equivalent of white noise and an extra pillow to put by your side so you’d feel surrounded.

Funnily enough, Jungkook’s as good as a mainstay in your life as you are with him, providing company and warmth with no question. It’s as if he’s always been your friend and you never met each other in such desperate measures.

Given that, sure, maybe you and Jungkook don’t fuck each other as often and it’s only occasional now at this point, but the conversation stays and lasts. It’s the routine of him pounding into you as he talks shit about the pressure he feels fron rival companies that aren’t even worth his time, and you talking about how thankful you are that he’s accepted you into his company and that you can’t be any more pumped to start.

That’s his cue to (very nicely) threaten you to shutting up if you still want to cum, and him talking in between broken grunts that you’ve earned the job both for your credentials and skills and of course the potential — not some dumb luck of having him as the CEO of the very company you’re chasing after, being friends with benefits with to the title of best friend.

To put it simply, Jungkook’s your platonic boyfriend of some sort. The both of you are dead sure that you don’t like each other in that way, and that soon enough, the two of you swear to flush out the libido so you’d stop hooking up.

It doesn’t necessarily mean that he’d stop cracking “that’s what you said” jokes and you teasing him about his whining.

The two of you are so compatible that it makes you forget about your dynamics with Jimin and how you’re even more compatible with him. His name’s only thrown around carelessly for good measure and not for drunk half-sobs from yourself.

It’s why Jungkook’s forcibly sat down on your floor as he eats his chicken wings, banned from the couch because you swear on his life that he’d regret his whole existence once he stains it. He has absolutely no choice but to pout and sit on your rug you haven’t vacuumed in awhile when he could easily buy you a new and better one if he does stain it.

You’re too engrossed over a movie because you don’t want to listen to Jungkook and his surprisingly strong moral compass, him already knowing that you’re deflecting this altogether so you could attempt to avoid the inevitable.

“Ignoring Jimin doesn’t mean you’ve moved on from him — do you know that?”

More than he’d likely admit, maybe Jungkook does have a taste for the emotions and the dramatics. He’s always been more in tune with it, but it had no place in the real world. Instead he gets his fill and spends almost all of it with the people he’s comfortable with — his family and a select amount of friends.

You’re the closest thing in real life he could ever relate to a reality show (although you always deny that your life is as eventful as it is), and Seokjin’s running to replace you in your spot because he always seem to get him even though they bicker the most, always smiling with his hyung because maybe, just maybe, Jungkook likes being taken care of.

Of course he’s observant. He wants to know you emotionally because knowing you physically so well doesn’t exactly coincide with the fact that you’re moving away from that phase in your relationship per se. He should absolutely know what’s with you furrowing your brows outside of the bedroom, know what’s tinkering with his best friend’s mind and not only relate it to when he hits your sweet spot from down under.

As soft as he sounds in contrast to his obvious demeanor from being in such a place of authority and growing up with everyone’s eyes on him, Jungkook’s grown to take care of you. It’s massive growth in his part for the past month because he learned that maybe he shouldn’t really take all of his life alone. Maybe he needs someone.

He’s not rushing for marriage and to be honest, if only the two of you weren’t platonic and you weren’t the farthest thing from being in his likes in that way, that would be the only time he’d look at you beyond as a friend. Companionship doesn’t need to equate to romantic relationships and that’s perhaps one of the many things he’d been lacking.

You like Jungkook as an addition to your life. You’re no stranger to strikingly-handsome best friends — Taehyung and Seokjin and of course Jimin are the living proof, but only the last part is who you’re unsure of.

And maybe yes, maybe Jungkook’s right. Maybe you can’t always avoid Jimin forever but you know that but you’d die on that hill because you can’t see yourself caving soon. Missing him yet not wanting to see him are the things you juggle with.

“Either side with me or you can get out of my apartment.”

He sputters when you slap his hand away and take his portion for yourself and audibly complains of how come you can sit on your couch and he can’t, forgetting that it’s your apartment and your couch that he’s talking about.

You’re also forgetting that he’s your boss, your superior, and your CEO. Although it becomes official by Monday, you come to your sense and sheepishly hand him half of it back.

You’ve quit the bartender gig but that doesn’t stop you from dropping in to work sometimes. Because maybe Jaehyun misses you a little that he pretends not to see when you sneak in a drink or two free of charge, and Seokjin misses you and his pride nowadays doesn’t deny him from saying that he misses you.

Jungkook kinda panics at that because not only does he not want to go home to his massive penthouse by himself where he can eat all that he wants on his couch, but he also needs the company and watching a crappy movie with you would give him a good night’s sleep.

“Look, look! All I’m saying is, from dude to dude or whatever, is that anyone could see how much he misses you.”

It’s your turn to slightly panic and you don’t know what to take from that, visibly caught in a daze as Jungkook takes the sweet time to slither from the floor to the couch.

He’d know that actually, because two weeks ago when he came over after a long tiring day and he just wants to be buried in you, Jimin just happens to aiming for you door too.

Jimin was second-guessing the whole day whether he should come over to your apartment unannounced and how you’d take it, but once the urge to visit overpowers, he certainly didn’t expect this guy.

He didn’t come empty-handed and there’s an outrageously tiny boquet he’s sure that you’d like because you found them obscene and adorable right inside his backpack. He doesn’t have the slightest clue inside his mind why you haven’t been yourself lately, or maybe it’s just because he refuses to believe it as it is.

Jimin’s cocky at first and that’s what Jungkook can clearly see, not resisting the amused scoff leaving him at the aura this other dude gives off.

“You two fucking?”

Jungkook laughs at that, both because he’s taken in surprise and also because it’s the clear answer.

“You wanna know?”

Actually, he’s starting to realize that maybe fucking you isn’t the only thing he’d like to do. You honestly seem pretty cool for a person, and he wants to befriend you! You’re level-headed as far as he knows, and the argument that’s flowing in his head is clearly different from the one in Jimin’s.

The older boy’s visibly frustrated, pinching his nosebridge as he tries to be civil.

“Look, I don’t know-...”

To put it simply, Jungkook has the knack of messing with people from time to time. Now may not exactly be the best time for it but he still takes the opportunity, ignoring the way Jimin’s gaze at him burns him down enough.

“I’m down for almost everything. Though I’d have to ask if Y/N’s game for a threesome or-“

“God, no! I-...”

Jimin resists the urge to bite back a snarky remark, opting to crack his knuckles using the same hands as he wants to be as level-headed with this as much as possible.

Namjoon coming out of his own apartment would be very convenient right now to diffuse the tension even if he’d feel it himself, yet your blue-haired neighbor doesn’t come out any time soon and neither will any of them back down.

He’s still a reasonable distance away from Jungkook who’s still standing in from your door, staying there because this whole scenario intrigues him that he figures that his desperations could wait a few more minute.

“Has she been eating properly? Sleeping? Still working?”

That’s a surprise.

Jungkook’s pleasantly taken aback with Jimin’s sentiments when it comes to you, a gentle smile on his face that maybe he’s not as bad as he thought of him.

Granted that yeah, he’s not the one who harbors unrequited love for him unlike you, but from what he can observe does he think that sometime along the way — of you going out of your way to get out of Jimin’s, is his change of heart

“Mhmm. I think. I don’t exactly live here.”

That’s all the silent reassurance he needs that you and him aren’t a thing, the relief in his heart unexplainable because the last time he checked, friends aren’t supposed to be this relieved for the other’s lack of a partner. It’s almost as if Jimin wished and prayed that Jungkook wasn’t your boyfriend.

“Cool.”

“Nice.”

He has his hands on his pockets as he twitches where he stands, Jungkook’s eyebrows raised because he knows all too well when someone’s hesitant to leave.

Jimin thinks it’s for the better if he retreats for now even if it pains him, planning to come back another day in better circumstances. Pondering about it, maybe this is a good thing. Keep his thoughts organized and his mind running, then try not to think about what’s probably going to happen as soon as Jungkook enters your door.

“Bye, Jungkook.”

This whole encounter truly cracks him up, finding it amusing as he leans against your door just to prof further.

“Searching me up? Dropped by the company? Don’t tell me you bought the latest magazine with my face on it.”

Jimin scoffs and he could tell that the both of them have atleast loosened up to each other and he doesn’t feel the urge to throw him down the floor like what he learned. But scoffing doesn’t take him away from the fact that yeah, okay, maybe he did exactly what Jungkook implied.

“Not like I wanted to spend my money on an overpriced issue. ‘Course I need to look out for Y/N.”

He pleasantly hums as he brings out his phone, about to text you to suddenly open your door right now with no questions asked. “That’s not your job.”

“And it’s yours?”

He shrugs at the condescending tone Jimin gives him, taking note to tell you about this interaction sooner than later.

“Never said it was mine.”

Jungkook backspaces his text until it’s blank, wanting to type a new one yet he stops in his tracks just to listen.

“Well then good. Because it’s mine.”

Jimin sounds so sure despite the ruffling his backpack gives when he readjusts it on his shoulder, swiping underneath his eye that he’s done out of habit and effectively taking out the last bit of eyeliner since he went here straight from a shoot.

You never actually said it was his, but he feels this obligation; this pull.

It’s a commitment he’s given himself, suddenly whispering to himself when all he’s done in the past minutes was to be accusatory with his sharp voice.

“It’s always been mine.”

bar this weekend? it’s also jin’s birthday soon and i’ve got some free shirts from this shoot that’s his size

we can put both our names on the card, i won’t tell :D

then split a sundae and some brownies, my treat!!

i’ll crash at ur place tho i still have a sweater or two left there

Jimin sighs to himself, making the makeup artist for a second that she’s the reason why he’s so huffy and the dabbing of the sponge to his cheeks don’t do anything to make the situation better.

He’s sighing, not because he’s run out of pride. Not because he used to find double-texting an ultra desperate move. Not because he now doesn’t spend a second longer thinking to send a message. No. He’s sighing because he feels that you’re so out of his grasp.

He can’t do anything about it currently, now that he’s in a shoot the director had to beg him to be in because in the past week, all that Jimin’s done is deny one offer after the other.

Normally he’d feel ecstatic that he’s becoming even more in-demand, but in truth, none of that matters when you’re the only one he’d be eager to have a meeting with. He’d take you over a designer shoot anytime without skipping a heartbeat, even if that means Yoongi, his agent, lose his shit over before curling up into a ball.

He’s booked yet he lets the chances slip from his fingers. Nothing could be any more important than you.

He’s hanging on by an insistent line of desperation actually, taking the time to skim through his phone’s camera roll and his Instagram archives to look for you, put you on his story, and leave people wondering.

If he was lucky enough then you’d add it to yours, and if he wasn’t then he’d be faced with nothing and a hundred other reactions that didn’t come from you, a full day left to soak in the pain that he doesn’t have your undivided attention.

Jimin knows that this was wrong -- knows that it’s selfish of him and his approach isn’t always the best, but he’s piss-poor clueless. His moral compass is clouded and just by you distancing yourself away from him is enough to drive him over the edge.

He’s so lost in you consuming his thoughts that sometimes he gets lucky, the frustration of trying to get where he went wrong and you went cold sets a distant and steely look on his face and it’s exactly what the photographer needed for the shoot.

You only feel half-sorry when your phone dings with multiple texts again from Jimin in the middle of trying on work outfits for your first day, despite your cold resolve that you want to keep up; and additionally, despite Jungkook’s insistence that you should wear the grey pencil skirt because it would be the perfect last outfit the two of you get to fuck each other in, and apparently, it should be in his office.

He’s unbearable, but he’s not half-bad you suppose.

It takes one beat, two beats before you will yourself to type out a reply, a little hitch in your breath and you’re not entirely sure if it’s just misplaced nervousness or because your high-waisted pencil skirt is literally too constricting and pencil-y for its own kind.

wish i could :(( would go to the bar at the weekend but i already promised another friend and he’s planned it weeks before

You already know that it’d be impossible and Jimin will most likely turn down the invitation altogether, even if what you said this time is entirely true.

Taehyung’s finally finished his studies abroad and he’s coming home at last, having already set up living arrangements and even interior designs months before he even got a ticket back home. One of the many plans he’s made was the both of you to go back to Jaehyun’s bar that was the witness to every miniscule thing (whether to celebrate or destress) back in college. And of course, since Tae exists that he has to be treated like royalty after having studied oh so long abroad, you’d have to treat and indulge him of course!

Those went along the lines of him saying he wanted to go to the aquarium, and then him pretending he didn’t plant that idea in your head, then breaking character for a brief second to tell you that you should surprise him with the tickets. 

great! he can tag along with us then

Jimin replies as soon as he got ahold of his phone the moment yet-another mundane shoot ended, not even an hour from when you last sent in your text that has him breathing sharply. 

It’s not a mistake with how he worded it, because after all, nobody could be anymore compatible with you, right? Jimin sometimes feels like he knows you more than he knows himself, and he could only assume that you think the same.

He’s not exactly pleased and he wouldn’t say that he’s a little hurt knowing it just wouldn’t be the two of you together nor you cancelling said plans with this other guy he’s highly suspicious of, even more suspicious than he could get with free shipping on a non-holiday.

Whatever it is you subject him to, it’s okay.

It’s okay.

Jimin would take whatever he can get.

“Promise me you’d behave.”

It’s an empty warning that goes through Taehyung, still grinning as he completely disregards what you’ve just said and leans to squeeze in your face once again.

He’s missed you — he truly did! Random things would remind him of you all throughout his time abroad, and the way he brought home souvenirs and goodies for you is all-telling. Well for one, he did bring home a plastic bag to you that he claims is filled with the air of where he stayed, but you’re still doubting if he’s just blown to it with his own breath. There’s the license plates and the mugs, and the more endearing ones were blankets and custom shirts he’s managed to snag for you.

The familiarity home brings gets him drunk and unsurprisingly, he’s already managed to befriend Jin despite knowing each other for less than an hour.

Tae just had to compliment Jin on his earrings, and he just had to squeal in delight because apparently you were too slow to notice them.

The two of you were already here in the bar an hour early before what Jimin said, and you decided on that with the reasoning that maybe you needed to be a little bit more intoxicated upon meeting him again after quite some time.

“It’s not like I bite. You told me we were similar or something like that.”

Taehyung finds it nice that you did get a best friend while he was away, because he’s the same with Hoseok who he’s also met and they just automatically clicked that they were roommates in the next week. He’s keen on you branching out, but he’s not exactly sure what to feel that he just had to be a little similar to this friend of yours.

He’s still your original, first, best close friend that no one can take the throne of.

“That is my point, Tae. The two of you are competitive over things and you haven’t even met each other yet.”

He hums at that, once again ignoring what you’ve just said as he pokes and pokes on your cheek.

Maybe it’s your bad luck, but you just have this pattern of having really handsome guys and only have them turn out as friends because neither have the feelings, and maybe you’ve also been so affection-starved that you think Taehyung poking your cheeks is domestic.

“Hmmm,” he hums indifferently, this time in a tune and even runs his thumb on your cheek incessantly, “what moisturizer do you use?”

It’s your turn to ignore him this time, having to physically shake Taehyung by the shoulder so he’d get to focus and won’t be in a trance with your moisturized cheeks that he likes attacking.

“Need to tell you some things,” his attention’s piqued yet he doesn’t jump into conclusions, his shoulder a very warm crevice that you surely missed which is why you’re immediately burying yourself into, not wanting to look him in the eye.

“I know there’s a lot of things.”

What Taehyung didn’t tell you is that he had some people then and there to after you, from some friends and to some family he sent every once in awhile and he simply couldn’t believe that you thought they were all coincidences and you just happened to bump to his mother in the grocery even if she lived in the next city.

“Tell me the most important ones in a single sentence. I’ll ask and we can catch up with everything later.”

He has a hunch on what said things could be but he doesn’t say a word, not sure if he already wants to precede wanting to know if you really do prefer cheese popcorn over butter and what would his reaction be if you-

“I just wanna tell you that Jisoo’s in town, I’m in love — used to, I think — with Jimin, and the two of them are together.”

Oh.

Taehyung stares off into the distance, his gaze into nothingness unrelenting are you’re actually nervous if you’ve broken him already.

Five beats, six beats, and Tae blinks. He’s finished trying to tie all the ends of your statement altogether and surprisingly, made peace with what he says a few seconds later.

“Doesn’t matter. Moved on long ago.”

Taehyung smiles but the rigidness of it isn’t his facial structure, but rather the slightest of pain behind it, an unexplainable glaze on his eyes that he blinks soon enough.

“W-well me too! I moved on too!”

His sudden confession, if it was even the truth in the first place, suddenly makes you do the same that it reminds him of an eager puppy he’s always wanted to get.

He snorts at that but doesn’t question the validity of what you’ve just said. Taehyung’s always known that you’re a bit fragile and he lets it pass — you atleast need something sembling control over your life.

“To let you know, I even sleep with-...”

“Oh my god, Y/N-...”

You’ve grown but you never really strayed, always wanting to prove something that you didn’t care about obviously giving too much information and crossing boundaries.

He’s giving you noogies and you let him, the tipsy lull of the shots that Jaehyun gave you taking its course.

Jimin’s more nervous than excited to stroll into the place, hands in his pockets that effectively crease his pants but he doesn’t mind.

It doesn’t take another second longer to find you even with your back turned to him, quickly weaving in between the sea of people to get to you. He’s probably gotten a curse or two, but none of those matter.

“Hey!” Jimin patters as soon as he sees the back of your head, taking you into a massive bear hug from behind you widen your eyes on.

He’s unbelievably gotten warmer than before, and you would’ve lost yourself if he didn’t squeeze you in earnest and if Taehyung didn’t take a once-over of him.

“Hi,” it’s the only one you could muster, two pats on his arm that you’d only reserve as a silent sign for him to let go and he knows that, but doesn’t take notice.

Taehyung’s the one that breaks it, a cold stare on Jimin that he only returns as icy.

“Park Jimin. Y/N’s best friend.”

You have no time to purse your lips over that, because Tae raises his eyebrows at it as if he’s either challenged or surprised, but he offers his hand nonetheless, noticing how much bigger his hand his that he instinctively squeezes it a little tighter like how he’d do with you.

And if Jimin is hurt, he doesn’t show it.

“Kim Taehyung. Y/N’s best friend since high school.”

That one’s something Jimin didn’t expect, head tilting to analyze if this Kim guy is actually serious and if he was, then how come you never told him?

His jaw clenches for a second, a forced smile on his lips that he’s practiced for his career day and night.

Not that it matters.

Taehyung and Jimin engage in conversation by themselves, and you don’t pay attention enough to know that their “conversation” is just them trying to boast, the other to be condescending, and trying to one-up each other in their knowledge about you.

“Bet you don’t even know Y/N’s favorite fruit.”

“What, as a child or the one she likes now? Better yet, do you even know the fruits that she hates?”

“Hmm, you mean practically almost everything? Nice try. Bet you don’t know how in second semester, she-“

“Took a tutoring class with Min Yoongi? The other intelligent dude that she used to have as a sworn enemy? Christ, it’s not like you even try.”

Your attention span has long been faded, instead turning your focus to Seokjin who hasn’t moved from his spot for washing the glasses for five minutes because he’s eavesdropping at the conversation, and he is certainly entertained.

“Are we getting wasted for your birthday?”

Jin has to blink away the sleepiness from his eyes that has since been disappearing ever since he dropped in to listen to the bickering, promising to himself that he should be well-rested and not have three hours of sleep for the days that you’re gonna come over the bar and have two best friends fighting over for a title they’ve made up themselves.

“Might be. Although I’m not inviting any of those two that look like they’re gonna claw each other debating what’s your favorite drink.”

Jin feels like a breath of fresh air, and in another tipsy haze, if only he had feelings for you and vice versa, he’d totally be your boyfriend by now.

You admire him but not in that way.

He fascinates you because you’ve figured that Jin’s always been more than well-off from the start. No one in their right mind would come to work in Gucci mules and in a Rolex wristwatch for their bartending job.

He’s explained it to you a couple of months back. Just so happens that Seokjin’s actually a heir to his dad’s company, and he just got this job to humble himself. Perhaps he’s the one born with a silver spoon in his mouth and had too much control, that he’s taken it upon himself to put him down a couple of notches.

That explains to how Jin just takes whatever schedule he can get and doesn’t complain, or to how him and Jungkook have always seemed familiar with each other and had too much in common, contributing factors were that he was Jungkook’s senior in business school and that they were born in the same elite circle. Also to how Jin applied to Jaehyun, and the guy must have found it ridiculous considering they both have the same situations, and immediately hired him right away.

Jin’s just always been there in a way, from how he’d offer you atleast half of his salary when you’re in a tight spot, to talking it out with Jaehyun when you insisted on coming to work with half a mind and a handful of cramps.

“You’re the best.”

That came out of nowhere, and so did the sudden poking of your finger to Seokjin’s bread smile, but he takes it.

Meanwhile, that’s gotten Jimin’s attention.

He’s been on edge and having Taehyung, who oddly seems similar to him, is insulting that he wants to deck him with his rings.

He doesn’t like feeling second. Doesn’t like feeling second to something he knew he’d be the first at, and the concept of not being the first meaning that you’re last makes him frown.

The thoughts consuming his mind are just too noisy to let go, taking advantage when Tae’s by the bathroom and Jin’s flagged down by a customer.

“Y’close with Taehyung?”

Jimin whispers as if it’s too shameful to be said aloud, and he thinks that it is, but you only roll your eyes at him playfully and it gets him in a deeper frown because you were only taking this lightly.

“I have other friends too, y’know.”

Yeah, he’s forgotten about that. And if he pretends hard enough, he could be the only one.

There’s no time to dwell on it, not when he’s already drowned in it too deep. He wants nothing but to be selfish and it’s a thought so massive that his ego seemed superficial.

“Jimin, you need to know something.”

There’s a light tap on his forearm but he was already long alert before that, his eyes widening with how you’re looking at him.

You’re looking at him like you used to and for some reason, he’s excited. He’s jittery and nervous at the same time, and he doesn’t know what for, but he wants you to say it.

“Y-yeah? What is it?”

His mind flashes back to when you confessed to him when you were drunk, and he thinks you’ve forgotten it. He’s forgotten about it too, actually. But the situation was so similar again but this time he wasn’t cowering from it nor laughing at your face.

This time he’s the one who’s nervous and hopeful, the tips of his fingers trembling as he looks deep into your eyes.

“Taehyung’s ex is Jisoo, alright? He already knows about the two of you. Just thought you needed the transparency.”

Your stern statement withers into a mumble at the end, Jimin’s stare so intense that it makes you cower.

Instantly, you think that he looks dejected because he’s already known for the start and the truth you’ve just dropped on him confirmed it.

Jimin’s absolutely crestfallen because it’s the furthest thing he’s ever expected for you to say, feeling your hand give him some consolation pats on his back.

One inhale, one exhale. Maybe the gnawing feeling of emptiness he’s feeling would be gone tomorrow, now that you’ve sprung an unknown truth of his current girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend happening to be your friend.

But that’s not the case.

“Yup. Needed that.”

It’s okay for Jimin to look for you.

It’s okay for him to only hum when Jisoo hugs him and buries her face in his chest. It’s not as warm as yours when you embrace him, and the scent that stays on his shirt isn’t of you. She doesn’t nudge her nose on the middle of his chest, and poke at his sternum and ask him to stop getting ripped.

It’s okay for him to only smile when she kisses him when used to giggle and actually love it. He’s never kissed you but he wonders everyday, and you’d probably taste as sweet as you look. If he ever did kiss you, you’d be his only fixation he can’t stop drinking out of.

It’s okay for Jimin to only smile when Jisoo tells him that she loves him, and if he ever does say it, there’s no I preceding the reiteration.

He’s not sure whether she means it or it’s out of habit, something developed when he said it so often and out of the blue. Even then, he can’t feel the saccharine feeling of being drunk in love anymore. Atleast Jimin knows that whenever you told him you loved him, you did actually mean it.

This is okay.

It’s okay for him to buy your perfume and spray it on his pillow, and if he closes his eyes hard enough, he could think that the comforter enveloping him is your warmth instead.

Jimin’s lost and he lets himself to be.

It’s okay to fall out of love with Jisoo.

Jimin from three months ago wouldn’t have thought that it was possible. In fact, he thought that it was the most impossible thing underneath the sun and he often confesses it to the moon, because he’s never fallen as hard.

Jimin from two months ago thought that he’s at his happiest, and everything that’s been happening ever since he’s laid his eyes on Jisoo is serendipity.

Jimin from a month ago thought that he was rotting from within. He felt as if he’s the most frustrated he’s ever been and it got him wondering whether his hair is actually dyed grey or if it’s from his stress.

Jimin now, is someone that has never been hurt before as he’s hurting now.

He finds himself in this same godforsaken bar he’s grown to both hate and love, and the start and end of what seems to be the things that make and break him as a person.

It’s clear as day when under the simultaneously soft and harsh lighting, that maybe Jisoo’s never been his.

No one between the two of them actually made the initiative to break up with the other, but it seemed like words weren’t needed.

She’s perhaps always belonged to Taehyung who has the tightest of grips on her waist. There’s no grinding, no libido. Embracing each other in the middle of a crowd tells him everything he needs to know.

Jisoo’s slipped away from Jimin’s grasp and into Taehyung’s who’ll she will always come back to. Tae never wavers and he’s holding onto her as if she’s his lifeline, and that wouldn’t exactly be wrong.

Jimin’s girlfriend is slipping away from him but it’s not what pains him.

Jimin’s eyes are bleary, and he’s unsure whether it’s because he’s drunk or because he’s crying. Whatever it was, it’s not because of Jisoo — it’d never been her.

He rests his head on your shoulder and you let him. He feels so defenseless and looks shattered that you don’t question him nonetheless, a magnanimous feeling of pity rolling from every circle you rub to his back.

“You’re really beautiful.”

He says it out of the blue as if it’s a confirmed thought, looking up at you in stride.

“Don’t say things like that,” you could only murmur as you try to look for a bottle of water within your reach, sooner or later having to haul Jimin home.

He doesn’t have a slightest clue why you’d dismiss it, but he persists as he always does.

“I’m really lucky to know you,” it’s an irrevocable fact with how he says it, making you think for a second if he’s actually sober and could come home by himself. That’s not any of his worries, because this time his mind works as fast as his mouth does. “But I think I’m the luckiest if I can have you.”

As Jimin comes to realize, it’s not Jisoo that he should’ve fallen for. He got burned as fast as he crashed, and it was love like that he’s always tried seeking.

It’s the easy short-lived warmth he got from a candle, but never the hard yet lasting warmth he got from a fireplace.

Your love for him was built steadily over the years and never all at once. It was from a spark to a fire in the making you took the chance being burnt from, and how long it was built meant no match to how short it was extinguished.

“Am I too late?”

Jimin’s as vulnerable as he can get that he doesn’t realize he’s already crying and it’s not drunken blues anymore.

He loves you so much and it takes an avalanche to make him realize that every moment with you shined.

His heart’s a muscle and he couldn’t believe that he’s only realized now that you’re it’s one true memory, having trained to be with you so much that no one could quite compare all along.

You don’t need anything to be the light; you don’t need to do anything to be the center of attention. It’s always been you yet he’s dismissed the thought that maybe it was just the bias of having known you.

But now, it’s about who he would and wouldn’t be if not for you.

Jimin can’t live without even the concept of you.

“If I told you that I’m falling for you, what would you do?”

And when you look at him with the same hint of bleariness in your eyes, and his shoulder feels the brunt of your tentative squeeze and sees the lightest of smiles on your lips —

Jimin knows everything that he needs to know.

[nbrook29]

💞 my sobbe fic recs part 2 💞

I did the first part in October but since then we have been blessed with so many good fics that I needed to do another one! We are currently experiencing a sobbe drought so these fics are helping us to get through it basically ✌🏻

Part One

✔ if there’s a fic on this list that you decided to give a shot and loved it, please remember about leaving a comment under it to let the author know that

Let’s go!

1k - 5k

let me be your man (let me hold your hand) by thekardemomme (@wlwharrys) | T

Summary: “what if i hold your hands?” robbe asks, voice gentle and soft, all teasing completely gone. sander turns to look at him, and robbe just gives him an encouraging smile. “will that make you feel more comfortable?”at first, sander wants to say no. he’s an adult, he should totally be able to drop in without needing to hold his boyfriend’s hands. but then he looks down the length of the ramp again, and he ends up nodding.

Sander learning how to skateboard. Basically, A FIC WE ALL NEEDED and this writer provided amazingly.

you just own it by noobishere | G

Summary: He bites his lip as he unhooks the jacket, feeling like he's five years old again, snooping around his mother's closet and trying on her heels.(a.k.a the one where robbe wears sander's clothes)

You know, with this writer it’s like, you see who wrote it and you just know it’s gonna be good. And it may be the most trivial idea but they always turn it into something fun. Oh and the pencil line is living in my mind rent free 🤣

paper rings by thekardemomme (@wlwharrys) | T

Summary: When Sander’s nose twitches, causing him to make this soft little whimpering sound, Robbe can’t help himself. He leans forward enough to kiss Sander’s forehead again, and then he dots one on each cheek, and then finally on his nose.“I can’t wait to marry you,” he whispers.

Angsty flugg with such a cute ending, where are my tissues at 🥺🤧

It’s My Turn by isaksliveterna (@to-enter-polaris) | T

Summary: Just little Sander moments through Robbe's eyes as he makes the anniversary video.

Remember Even’s video to Isak? This is sobbe’s version and it’s oh so cute 🥰

5k - 10k

All You’ve Got to Do Is Win by berrevy | T

Summary: “Careful, now.”“Or what?” Robbe walks off, over to his side of the net, voice raising as he goes. “You may as well just draw a picture of you winning cos that’s the only way it’s gonna happen.”It's Sander's turn to splutter. "Jesus...who are you and what have you done with Robbe? Where did this little savage come from?"(or, how that tennis match might've played out)

Oh my god, for me this is perfection ❤ This author can truly capture the real essence of sobbe. And to think I completely missed that fic the last time!

dreaming of you by ivy_seas | E

Summary: Snow, gift giving, wrapping presents, watching movies in bed (+ other activities in bed), celebrating Christmas together.

Sobbe preparing for Christmas together, just the perfect amount of fluff I needed 🤗

you’re my stars... and everything in between by aurorawinds (@robbesdriesen) | M

Summary: A Star-Crossed Lovers, Romeo & Juliet inspired, AU where Robbe and Sander are the sons of Antwerp’s two most rivaling families of tech companies, head over heels in love with one another as they find it more and more difficult each day to hide their relationship from their families. To hide their love.

Are you kidding me. Romeo and Juliet sobbe AU?! I was so into it from the very beginning, THEY ARE SO CUTE OH MY GOD and the angst oh yes

Taking pictures of you as the light came through by allforyoumylove | M

Summary: Robbe photographs Sander in bed. Things take a steamy turn.

It’s not easy to write the perfect amount of fluff as I tend to not like the overly fluffy stories. Somehow this writer always hits the mark and delivers just what I love.

You say you want your freedom by ayellowcurtain (@ayellowcurtain) | G

Summary: Sander is going away for two weeks to do some college stuff with his teacher. He doesn't tell Robbe right away, but he needs time.

This was really interesting and quite different from the usual approach I would say. I think there are very few fics with sobbe “fighting” and I love me a little angst sometimes so this was just *chef’s kiss* 😍 Also, I liked how *spoiler* the ending isn’t just Sander’s bff suddenly liking Robbe but that they rather work around it.

time may change me but I can’t trace time by abittersweetsong (@honeyandsinn) | T

Summary: “You’re my best friend and I love you.”It’s a simple admission and it settles gently in Robbe’s soul Or Robbe and Sander find each other in every universe, but in this one they're best friends first

This is WIP and as a rule I don’t include WIPs in those recs but I’m gonna make an exception because I absolutely loved it and I need this writer to come back and post more 🥺 I’m in love with their writing style and how they make me care about these characters so much ❤

10k - 20k

sander driesen versus mistletoe by dottori | T

Summary: it’s not a fair match. (or, sobbe go on a christmas date, and sander really wants a kiss under the mistletoe.)

This is a very fluffy fluff so proceed with caution 😂 I liked the Christmas vibe here a lot.

hop in the corolla by noobishere | E

Summary: “Oh dear,” Robbe’s mother cuts in. “You haven’t even started your trip and you’re already at each other’s throats.”Sander takes immense pleasure in the way Robbe’s eyes widen in panic, and before Robbe can even warn him with his glares, Sander is already saying, all too gleefully.“We’re always at each other’s throats.”(a.k.a sobbe's summer road trip)

“I found it. It's official. I found the best sobbe fic.” This is the comment I left and I’m still standing by it. It has so many small gems, it’s just UGH. So goooooood 🤩🤩🤩

my hand around the base of you holy neck by allforyoumylove | E

Summary: “All Robbe knew was that Sander was rubbing his hand up and down his back, nails scraping his skin gently, that he smelled like safety, sweet and warm, and that there was nowhere he would rather be than in his arms.”(aka the one where Robbe and Sander are “just” friends with benefits, but the amount of times they call each other ‘baby’ and the way they can’t fucking stop kissing begs to differ.)

Friends to lovers AU. One of my favorite tropes. It’s smutty and fluffy at the same time which, you know, perfection.

Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) by berrevy | M

Summary: Robbe bites down on his lip, shaking his head. “You make a habit of luring boys into your lair?”“Only the pretty ones. Don’t worry, schatje, there’s nothing to be afraid of. And if there is,” Sander shrugs, taking a few more steps backwards, “I’ll protect you.”(aka the boys go on their own private Halloween adventure)

So basically, it was Halloween and wtFOCK so DID NOT deliver and we were all pissed off but then this writer came in and gave us what we deserved. Thanks to this fic I discovered this writer’s other story that is one of my sobbe favorites. Oh the symbolism in this fic. I’m just a big fan of this writer’s style in general 🥰

20k+

this rough magic by aholynight (@aholynight) | M

Summary: Though he’s a sixth-prefect and the newest member of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, Muggleborn Robbe can still hardly believe that he’s made of magic. Sander is the seventh-year Gryffindor beater whose wild behavior and delinquent reputation precedes him. Though Robbe desperately wants to believe in the angel-faced boy he sees in front of him—and ignore the rumors of Sander’s devilish behavior—he’s not sure his heart can afford the risk. But when Sander and Robbe are left in a nearly-empty Hogwarts over the Christmas holiday, avoiding Sander might no longer be an option.

I don’t know how I could have missed this one in my last fic rec. Sobbe in Hogwarts. During Christmas. I mean, I’m sold from the start but on top of that this also has a captivating story and made me go 🥺

[chocoluckchipz]

A Soulmate for Christmas - 2

< Previous

The Mayor had always thrown the most lavish parties in the city. The Christmas Eve Gala was the grandest of them all. Anyone who was deemed important or famous was invited. The venue sparkled and shined with extravagant decorations. Shimmering gowns of ladies whose beauty could rival the stars, handsome men in tuxedos, a multitude of servers to attend to the guests' every need; everything screamed wealth, influence, and power. With everything being of the highest quality, it was no surprise all the food was prepared on-site by the best chefs in all of Paris, including the pastries which her parents were hired to make. 

In previous years, Tom was the one who baked, while Sabine or Manon served in the ballroom. Today, however, Papa lay home with a broken leg, Manon was out of the city, and anyone else who could’ve stepped in was unavailable at such late notice. So, it was Sabine who was left to stir up a storm in the hotel's kitchen, while Marinette took the trays of sweets into the ballroom for attendees to enjoy.

The first hour went by splendidly. Neither Adrien nor his fiancée nor Chloe Bourgeois showed up. Marinette was starting to relax as she danced around the room with a tray in hand, offering attendees her Maman’s treats. It all changed when Adrien walked in the room with Kagami Tsurugi on his arm, her mother and Chloe Bourgeois following right after.

Perfect. Her torture had begun.

Marinette moved farther into the room, as far from the trio as possible. Unfortunately, being a waitress, she couldn’t remain in one spot for long. Which meant she had to constantly scan the room to be aware of Adrien's location at any given moment. His and Chloe's. Because even though she didn’t want to risk getting too close to Adrien, she’d take that over running into her high school arch-enemy. Unlike Chloe, at least, he wouldn’t recognize her.

"Excuse me? Mademoiselle?"

She peeled her eyes away from Chloe conversing with Adrien’s fiancée to look at the person calling her and froze. 

Those eyes.

Her heart took off in a panicked sprint. She knew those eyes. How did she not realize he was her soulmate before? She stared at his posters for hours at a time, days in a row. His eyes were always gorgeous but… the eyes that watched her now were the ones that haunted her dreams all these years. And that barely-there smile he was giving her was so different from his model one. Mischievous and kind, and somehow familiar. 

Butterflies raged in her belly, Marinette turned away and focused on her work. She was there to help Maman, not swoon over her unfaithful soulmate.

"I apologize, but have we met before?" He stepped in front of her, blocking her attempted escape. "I feel like I know you."

This couldn’t be happening. There was no way he recognized her! "I’m afraid, you’re mistaken, Monsieur. I don’t think we’ve met."

"Are you sure?" His hand slowly reached out for hers, the one his mark was on. "May I?"

With a swift move, Marinette slipped a serving tray between them, offering him what was left of an assortment of macarons, at the same time protecting her hand from his touch. "Of course. Which flavour would you like?"

He hesitated for a moment, then smiled. "Which one would you recommend?"

"Coconut. They’re a huge hit tonight. The white ones."

"Thank you." He took the treat and bit into it. "Oh! They are delicious."

"I’m glad you like it. Now, if you excuse me. I must get back work." Marinette gave him the most professional smile she could muster at the moment as she turned around to walk away.

He followed. Like an annoying stray. No wonder his soulmate mark was a black cat. "Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Adrien. May I ask for your name?"

"It’s confidential."

A fleeting look of bewilderment on his face, replaced by an amused sparkle in his eyes, he smirked right after. "Accept my apologies, Mlle ‘Confidential’, but may I ask if you ever visited Milan?"

He wasn’t beating around the bush. This was bad. "Curiosity killed the cat, and you’re one curious kitty, aren’t you, Adrien?"

His eyes widened just a speck, lips stretching in one of the widest grins she had ever seen in her life. "It is you, isn’t it?"

With a look of absolute innocence on her face, she looked away. "I’m sorry? I’m not following."

"Ladybug. I don’t remember your real name but your soulmate mark is a ladybug. I’ve been calling you that. I knew I would recognize you if I ever saw you. Your eyes haven’t changed. You still have those adorable freckles and that sweet smile."

Good thing Marinette and her father had taken up playing poker lately. Otherwise, she wasn't sure she'd be able to look at him with an air of indifference right then. "As I said before, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. My name isn’t Ladybug, and I don’t think we’ve ever met before. Now, if you excuse me, I have work to do." 

She walked past him. He followed.

"You called me Kitty after you saw my soulmate mark. A black cat. Right there." He pointed to her right hand. "I can prove it if you’ll allow me to touch it."

She couldn’t let this happen. He didn’t deserve to confirm his suspicions. This had already gone a lot further than Marinette ever intended for it to go. She didn’t have a choice but to cut this short and run. "I’m sorry, I have no idea who you’ve mistaken me for, but I’m not your soulmate. After all, aren’t you engaged? 

"Please, let me explain—"

"I’m sure Mlle Tsurugi won’t approve of you talking to other women, M Agreste. Especially me," she snapped. She forced herself to take a breath and a step back. "Congratulations on your impending engagement. Have a good life." 

Without giving him a chance to respond, Marinette strode away toward the kitchen. If anyone asked, it was only because her tray was almost empty, not because the hope in her heart was, too.

"Wait!" He rushed after her. "I can explain."

She didn’t want him to. She hurried away, but Adrien kept pace. Just as she was about to exit the ballroom, he caught up and grabbed her right hand. The black cat soulmate mark on the top of it burst with all the colours of a rainbow, glowing the most beautiful way Marinette had ever seen a soulmate mark to glow. 

She snatched her hand back before anyone else could notice, hissing at him. "What are you doing?"

"Begging you to let me explain."

"Your engagement is explanation enough," Marinette snapped, throwing open the door to the servers’ area and escaping him once more.

Adrien called after her, but she knew these hallways well enough to lose him. Turning a corner, she slipped into an old storage room and ducked under a desk, hoping he’d just pass by without a second thought. 

She was wrong.

"Ladybug?"

She froze in her hiding spot, careful not to make a sound. 

"Ladybug, please. I can explain. I promise I’m not—" 

"Adrien, what’s going on?" A female voice sounded closer to the door. 

"It’s her," he answered breathlessly. "I found her."

"‘Her’ as in?"

"Ladybug! I found my Ladybug! And the first thing she does is yell at me because she thinks I’m engaged to you."

"Please, don’t tell me it’s that waitress that you kept hovering over?" Another female griped. An unfortunately familiar female. 

"Oh, shut up, Chloe!" Adrien snarled. "I’m not in the mood for—"

"Calm down, both of you. No need to start a fight," the woman who Marinette guessed was Kagami Tsurugi cut in. 

"Like I’m going to fight him over Dupain-Cheng. He can have her, for all I care."

"You know her?" Adrien asked, surprise clear in his voice. "Chloe, please, tell me you know who she is?"

"Of course, I do. We suffered each other’s presence all through lycée."

"Name, Chloe! Tell me her name! Her number? Address? Anything!"

The scowl in Chloe’s voice was palpable. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She lived in the bakery across the street from my old school—" 

"Are you kidding me?! She’s been living less than a block away from me all these years?!"

"Just your luck." Kagami chuckled. "All the time and money you wasted on your trips to Milan. I almost feel sorry for you, Adrien." 

"You’re so kind, Kagami. Remind me, why are we still friends? "

"Because you needed a fake girlfriend."

"I think it was the other way around."

"Let’s be honest: we both benefited. Some more so than others, but who cares about the details, right?"

Adrien groaned. "I don’t have time for this. Chloe, where can I find her?"

"You remember that online fashion boutique I showed you? The one you ordered that blue scarf and a few of their Chat Noir pieces from?"

"MDC? Wait—was that her?"

"Yes. MDC is short for Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Adrien pulled out his cellphone. "Good idea. The website should have her contact information."

"Not her personal contacts. Only a business email."

"Damn it, Chloe. I don’t have time for this. Where can I find her now?"

"Most likely in the kitchen," Chloe huffed. "Her parents’ bakery was hired to cater for the party. Tom and Sabine’s."

"Thanks." 

By the time the door shut, Marinette could hardly breathe, a single sentence played in her mind over and over and over again, 

 "Because you needed a fake girlfriend."

 What did she mean by—?

Bang!

Marinette’s heart stopped at the sudden slap of a hand on the desk she was hiding under. 

"Dupain-Cheng." Chloe leered down at her with a smile Marinette knew always meant trouble. "We need to talk."

Next >

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[sleepless-in-starbucks]

You and Me, We Don’t Make Sense (But No One Does)

Ao3

Summary: Roman loved the idea of romance, and everything that was attached to it. Romance itself, on the other hand... well, it wasn’t really his thing And, despite what anyone else might say, that was alright. Warnings: Kind of aphobia (of the aromantic kind), self-doubt (specifically of one’s romantic orientation) Pairings: QPR Royality Notes: Inspired by this post from @notveryglittery

    Roman loved the idea of romance.

    It was, after all, an extremely alluring concept. Buying great bouquets for those you love? Date nights tailored to your combined interests, spent just with each other? Grand tales of just what romantic love could overcome? Soft and sweet kisses filled with adoration? Roman loved all of it and more.

    Roman, however, didn’t care much for actual romance.

    It was to his benefit he wasn’t even certain what romantic love was, aside from what other people told him. It wasn’t like he necessarily had anything against romantic relationships, they just… never seemed right for him.

    The result of this collision of his love of concept but dislike of execution often resulted in his being almost excessively affectionate with his friends (of which he had many- he disliked romantic relationships, not people), family, and even strangers at times. Though he really should stop interacting with strangers like that. In his experience, a lot of them got the wrong impression.

    For an example, Roman had to look little farther than less than an hour ago. He had been buying flowers for his partner, Patton (they were cupioromantic, which had made them and Roman even more of a perfect match than they naturally were- though unfamiliar with romance itself, they were both very well-versed in the language of it) when he noticed two women giggling and clearly talking about him from a little ways across the shop. From what he could tell of their conversation, the giggling was nervous as they tried to convince the other to go talk to him.

    Roman was, in all honesty, flattered. He considered himself to be exceptionally pretty (a point wholeheartedly supported by Patton), and moments like these reminded him that he was not the only person with that opinion. He smiled smugly as he finished making his selection, waiting to see if the women would figure themselves out or not.

    It wasn’t until he had finished making his purchase that one of them did approach him. She tapped his shoulder lightly, and Roman smiled, putting on his handsomest grin before he turned towards her.

    “May I help you?” He asked her politely. At Roman’s attention, her cheeks coloured slightly, and Roman couldn’t help but feel proud that, yes, he still had it.

    She awkwardly gestured towards the bouquet of red gaillardias and blue freesias. “For someone special?”

    “They are.” Roman admitted easily. “Though if I gave them to you, I would still be telling the truth.”

    The woman giggled a bit, flushing even more. “You sure are a charmer.”

    “It helps that you are so charming yourself, ma’dam.”

    She smiled at that, looking down in a poor attempt to hide her ever-rising blush. “Hey, listen… I was wondering… if you’d like to maybe… go out sometime…?”

    Roman kept his own smile up, tone still light as he answered, “Apologies, for as delightful as that sounds, I do not date. I’m certain any man would be lucky to have you, however.”

    Normally, that was where it ended- the woman (or man or enby) would be a bit abashed at being turned down, but they’d still be smiling, and hopefully feeling very confident in themselves after Roman complimented them, saying thank you and wishing him a good day as they headed off. Roman would go on with his day as well, feeling happy himself at getting the chance to make someone’s day at least a little better.

    But this woman seemed as if she was looking to be an exception. “You don’t date?” She asked, sounding confused. “Are you… are you married?”

    “I am not.” Roman said (though he did hope one day his answer to that question would be ‘yes’).

    “Then… why don’t you date?”

    Roman forced himself to keep his smile up. Conversation rarely veered in this direction, but when it did, it was… uncomfortable. So few people actually knew what he meant when he said he was bellusromantic, and explaining it always seemed to take longer than it should. “Not my thing.” He settled on, knowing it sounded lame but not in the mood to truly get into it. “Now, if you do excuse me, I have somewhere to be. Have a good day.”

    He made his way to the door as quickly as he could without looking suspicious- uncomfortable questions aside, he didn’t want the woman to think he was fleeing her or something similar- ignoring the fact that he was almost certain the woman was watching him as he left. He was halfway across the shop when he heard the woman’s friend come over to her, their conversation quiet but just loud enough that Roman could hear it-

    “So, did you get his number?”

    “No… he said he… doesn’t date.”

    “That’s… weird.”

    “He was weird. He was being so romantic, too… it doesn’t make sense.”

    Luckily, for Roman’s sake, he had reached the door by then, and was out into the world, the women’s voices and conversation out of his hearing. The words he had caught, however, stuck in his mind, bouncing around in his head as he headed for his car.

    He wasn’t weird or nonsensical! Liking romance but not wanting to be romantic with anyone was normal, and real, and perfectly sensical, and he knew that because that’s who he was, and how he had felt for as long as he could remember, and there was a name and a flag for it and everything! Some random lady’s opinion didn't change that!

    So why did Roman have to spend five minutes just sitting in his car before he drove home, holding the wheel and lightly hitting his head against it as her words echoed in his head?

    ~~

    “Patton, sweetest, darling, dearest, I’m home!” Roman called out as he closed the door behind him, trying to infuse his voice with all the enthusiasm he had had before the interaction in the flower shop.

    Almost immediately, Patton was there, with bright colours from the entire rainbow and then some smeared across their hands, arms, and face, their apron even more colourful. They were smiling just as brightly, and despite his preoccupations, Roman’s heart would always lift at that smile.

    “You’re home!” Patton said excitedly, eagerly rushing up to Roman but stopping just an inch from him. They smiled sheepishly, raising their painted hands. “Guess I shouldn’t touch you, huh?”

    Roman smiled. “My clothes- and cheeks- are washable.”

    Patton let out a happy squeak, immediately squishing Roman’s cheeks between their hands and kissing him. “I missed you.” Patton said in between a second kiss. “Missed your sweetness and prettiness and handsomeness and loveliness and-”

    “Shhh, love bug, or I’m going to die before you get to see my surprise.” Roman whined, leaning his forehead against Patton’s, trying to keep them from kissing him again and completely stealing his voice.

    “There is no greater surprise than that of waking up every morning to find you once more beside me.” Patton said, hands slipping away from Roman’s cheeks to loop around his back instead, holding him close. “I am certain a vision such as yourself should have vanished by now.”

    Roman’s cheeks quickly turned a shade of red bright enough to rival the dash of red Patton had smeared on their cheeks. “For an angel, dearheart, you are being very impish.”

    “That’s. Because. I. Love. You!” Patton said, covering Roman’s face in kisses to punctuate every word. They giggled when Roman made a strangled noise at the affection, clearly satisfied at having broken their partner.

    “Take your surprise before I melt into a puddle.” Roman managed to say after a moment, pulling back slightly from Patton and moving the hand he had hidden behind his back in front of him to reveal the bouquet to Patton.

    Patton’s eyes lit up at the sight of the flowers, shining so radiantly Roman was surprised the glare didn’t catch on their glasses. They gratefully accepted the flowers, smelling them before looking up at Roman once more, still smiling. “They’re so pretty!” They commented excitedly.

    “Just like you, sweetheart.” Roman said easily, relaxedly, watching as Patton’s cheeks blushed red immediately.

    “Now look at who’s making who melt.” Patton accused, holding the flowers up in a useless attempt to hide their blush.

    “I am simply telling you the truth.” Roman defended, grinning as he pulled the flowers down and returned the favor of covering Patton’s face in kisses (though he was careful to not kiss the still drying paint).

    Patton giggled, allowing themself to be drowned in Roman’s affections for a moment before they pulled back. “I need to put these in water.” They said hastily, quickly rushing off towards the kitchen to avoid Roman grabbing their wrist and stopping them for more kisses.

    He still followed them however, coming to a stop in the kitchen doorway and leaning against it as he watched Patton bustle about, pulling out a nice vase and filling it with water before working to free the flowers of their plastic sheath. He sighed as he crossed his arms, happy to watch Patton work. Their golden hair had been pulled into a ponytail, to avoid getting paint in it, but it was still stained with blues and pinks. They slid about the kitchen in mismatched kitten socks as they cheerily completed their task.

    It was all simple things that he noticed, Roman supposed, noticing how Patton’s hair was put up or how they moved or the fact that the back of their right arm had clearly been purposefully smeared with a gradient of colours from purple to pink that blended into lines of grey-purple-white-pink beside it. But he liked the simple things. He loved noticing them. He loved noticing everything about Patton.

    The vase full, Patton moved it to their table, Roman switching from the kitchen doorway to the one that separated kitchen and dining room, once more leaning on it as he watched Patton place the vase and drop the flowers in. Immediately after dropping them, Patton pulled two back out- one gaillardia and one freesia. Roman smiled as they immediately went to work at tucking them behind their ears.

    Roman had seen that coming- he always picked brightly coloured flowers for a reason. Patton loved the colours, would slowly pick through the entire bouquet, decorating their hair with one of each flower until there were no more and Roman was out to buy more. It was his favorite part about buying flowers for Patton- the sweetness and closeness of the traditionally romantic gesture was just an extra benefit-

    He was weird. He was being so romantic, too… it doesn’t make sense.

    Roman closed his eyes, grimacing at the memory as he pressed his head against the doorway. He really hoped that mental link wouldn’t last long. Because it was stupid, really, completely stupid, stupid stupid stupid.

    He looked at Patton again. Patton. His partner. His beautiful lovely gorgeous amazing partner, who he loved with more than all of his heart, who he loved to kiss and hold and shower in affection, who he had a perfectly sensical relationship with regardless of the fact that it was filled with romantic actions but no actual romance because romantic attraction was for suckers anyways-

    “Honey?”

    Roman blinked, surprised to suddenly find that Patton was in front of him, frowning softly and watching Roman with concern. He plastered on a smile. “Yes, sweet pea?”

    Patton tilted their head to the side, raising one hand to cup Roman’s cheek. “You’re distracted. Something’s wrong.” Patton commented. “What’s wrong, darling?”

    Roman’s smile softened at Patton’s worry, and he placed his hands on Patton’s shoulders reassuringly. “I’m alright, sunshine. Nothing’s wrong.”

    “You’re lying.” Patton said, frown deepening. “Something happened while you were out. Did someone say something to you?”

    Roman chuckled drily. “You’re too good at guessing games.”

    “What did they say?” Patton pressed, ignoring the weak joke.

    “Nothing important.”

    “It’s bothering you. It’s important.”

    “Just something stupid- an offhanded comment, nothing more, it’s really not anything to worry about, love-”

    Patton’s second hand came up to cup Roman’s other cheek, shutting him up and forcing his attention on Patton. “Tell me.” Patton begged. “Please, baby, tell me.”

    Roman tried to resist for a moment, really not wanting to burden Patton with anything, but his partner was very convincing, especially when they were using not only puppy eyes but worried puppy eyes on him, and soon enough he gave in with a sigh and, “Just a side comment at the flower shop- was just paying a woman some compliments when I had to tell her I don’t date- she called it- me- weird, said it didn’t make sense… it’s not like I haven’t heard it before, I just-”

    “I’m going to fight her.”

    “Dearest-”

    “I’m going to fight her so hard she won’t even-” Patton glared at the ground, their face looking adorably angry, before they looked back at Roman, expression now a mix of anger (directed elsewhere) and sympathy (directed just at Roman). “I’m so sorry, honey, you shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

    “It’s nothing, really, Patton, I can deal with it-”

    “But you shouldn’t have to!” Patton exclaimed vehemently. “You were just trying to be nice and she was being rude and wrong. You’re not weird, you’re beautiful and kind and sweet and fun and absolutely lovely.”

    Roman smiled softly. “Thank you-”

    “And of course we don’t make sense!” Patton continued, on a roll and unwilling to stop. “No couples make sense! People say they do, but they don’t! Romance is weird! Relationships are weird! People are weird! None of us make sense! At all! It’s stupid to expect us to! It’s stupid that you had to deal with today, and that you’ll probably have to deal with it later!”

    Patton pushed themself even closer to Roman, pressing their forehead against his as they stared into his eyes. “What we have is beautiful and rich and wonderful and unique, and I love it and I love you and I wouldn’t ever trade it for something as boring as something that ‘makes sense.’”

    Roman’s smile grew at that, completely genuine, and he pressed his eyes closed for a moment to chase away the few tears that were trying to escape. “I love you.”

    Patton smiled as they tilted their head, moving so they could pull Roman into a sweet kiss. Roman’s arms moved so that he could embrace Patton while they kissed, and Patton willingly obliged him by stepping forward so that they were almost completely pressed up against him.

    Eventually, Patton pulled away, still smiley. “You’ve got paint all over your face, you know.” They said, already starting to giggle. “Makes you look adorable.”

    “You’re adorable too.” Roman returned. “But you don’t need the paint for that.”

    Patton laughed at that, a light and soft and pretty sound that made Roman want to kiss them forever. He knew he couldn’t get away with forever, to his greatest disappointment, but he did manage to get in another full minute of just covering Patton’s face in little kisses, fast little pecks that only made Patton laugh and blush more, both which were factors that only increased Roman’s need to kiss them.

    Finally, however, Patton pushed Roman away, still grinning even as they lightly scolded, “That’s enough out of you. We’re not going to get anything done if I let you keep kissing me forever.”

    “Oh, who cares about doing things?” Roman asked teasingly, trying to steal another kiss only to have Patton dodge him. “I’d be happy to kiss you til I couldn’t.”

    “I know you would.” Patton said, moving their hands to hold Roman’s arms as they leaned even further backwards. “Which is why I really have to be the one to stop this or we’ll be here until you fall over and I’m left to nurse you back to health.”

    “That sounds wonderful to me.”

    Patton shook their head. “You’re reckless in the pursuit of love.” They said.

    “No, I’m not.” Roman argued. “I am reckless in the pursuit of you. You just happen to be my love, and my heart, and my sunshine, and my whole entire world-”

    “This is what I mean by unique!” Patton said happily. “Sometimes love is the universe falling for the sun.”

    Roman blushed. “Oh, that’s not fair.”

    “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” Patton told him. “I can try and make it up to you, though.”

    “Hmm? How so?”

    “With food and entertainment and cuddles and if you’re very lucky I might even give you kissing rights back.”

    “I like the sound of that.” Roman admitted. “What are we watching?”

    Patton hummed. “Up to you. We could watch Moana, or some Masterchef Junior if you’re looking for something quicker.”

    “I like the sound of both.” Roman admitted, smiling at Patton. “Can I have both?”

    Patton smiled back. “Yes, but only because you’re so charming.”

    “I’ll take it.” Roman said. “What’re we eating?”

    “I was going to make pasta-”

    “Too long.” Roman cut him off with a whine. “Wanna get to cuddling.”

    Patton chuckled. “Snacks, then?”

    Roman nodded. “Yes, but only if we get them together so I don’t have to let go of you.”

    “You’re clingy.” Patton joked, but they still held onto Roman’s hand as they made their way back into the kitchen, quickly pulling a bag of chips out of the pantry and some sodas out of the fridge. “This good?”

    “If it means we can be wrapped around each other like we’ll never let go on the couch sooner, than yes.”

    Patton just laughed again and allowed Roman to tug them both over to the couch. He flopped onto it first, beckoning for Patton to follow, whining when Patton put Moana into the Blu-Ray first and set down the snacks before coming to sit down as well.

    Of course, they weren’t sitting long, Roman wrapping around them and pulling them over so that they could properly cuddle stretched out over the couch. He kicked at the blanket spread over the back of the couch, pulling it over so that it landed mostly over them. He nestled his head into the crook of Patton’s neck as Patton turned the movie on, dropping the remote and leaving it to play as they leaned back, getting closer to Roman.

    Soon enough, Patton turned their head to look at Roman’s face, smiling when they found Roman already looking at them, himself smiling softly and fondly.

    “Hey, Patton?” Roman asked, quietly.

    “Yes?”

    “You know I love you more than I have ever loved anything or anyone, right? No romo though.”

    Patton chuckled lightly, managing to bend their head just enough to press a kiss to the side of Roman’s mouth. “I know. And it’s okay. I love you just as much… and then some.”

    “Cheater.”

    “Oh, hush. I’m your cheater, and you know you love me.”

    Roman grinned. “Yes I do. And you know what?”

    He bent his head so he could return a similar kiss on the edge of Patton’s lips. “Loving you? It’s the most sensible thing in the world.”

[joonsgotthejuice]

Lovers and Friends

Pairing: Shownu x Reader

Words: 3.4k

Genre: fluff, light smut

Summary: Shownu doesn’t quite understand how being friends with benefits works.

Warnings: shower sex, exhibitionism (if you squint)

A/N: My first MX fic! This idea hit me hard after reading this post, so I had to write it. Thank you hanbingf for the inspo! Hope you all enjoy it!

Shownu was infuriatingly beautiful. With a body carved from marble— worthy of being on display at the Met— and a smile that rivals the stars in the sky, it’s no wonder why he turns heads every time you two journey into town. If you were outside for longer than 10 minutes, chances are you’d catch someone gawking at him. It never fails. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve caught someone staring from across the train platform. Or heard the soft giggling from a group of girls as you both walked by. You weren’t innocent either, however. More than once would you’ve watched his muscles ripple under his button-up as he reaches up to grab a glass from a high shelf. Just yesterday Jooheon had to pinch your arm to stop you from staring at Shownu’s ass. Changkyun’s chuckles as you hid your head in your arms would haunt you for at least the next two days. 

Shownu himself was soft-spoken and gentle, a contrast to his looks. You’ve watched many cashiers straighten up the slightest when seeing Shownu approaching the counter. A mix of intimidation and interest swirling in their eyes as this tall man with a stoic neutral face makes their way to them with items to ring up. Then they’d break into sweet smiles and blushes as Shownu asked them how their days were going with that caring look and sincere smile that’s been aimed at you many times before.

The only thing that was more infuriating than Shownu’s beauty was his modesty. He genuinely was clueless as to how appealing he was. When you tell him the woman at the front desk was giving him bedroom eyes he only blinks, ignorance clear in his face as he refutes the claim. You loved him, but he was so extremely oblivious that it genuinely astounded you. 

Admittedly, his lack of being able to take hints has worked in your favor at times. It was the reason your slight crush went unnoticed. While his closest friends would tease you in private about your lingering eyes, Shownu was none the wiser. It made your friendship easier knowing you didn’t have to worry about it.

Until it wasn’t just a friendship anymore.

The morning you woke up half laying on a naked Shownu, his morning wood pressed against your leg, was the day that changed. After a small freak out and an awkward couple of minutes trying to not stare at his abs as you spoke about what occurred the night before, you both agreed that the sex was great and you wanted it to happen again. However, you weren’t too sure you could handle any romantic relations, so you made the suggestion as casual as possible. 

“We could just, do— you know— this, again. Whenever you want. Just shoot me a text.”

Your face was as nonchalant as you could make it but internally you were hoping for the ground to open and swallow you whole. To your surprise, Shownu nodded in agreement and thus the arrangement of being friends with benefits started. 

It took getting a little tipsy to get the courage to text him to come over for your first official hook up, but over the past few months, it’s gotten extremely easy to send that 1 am text. He’d come and fuck your brains out in the dead of night, then make you breakfast the next morning before kissing your forehead and going back home. Or you’d go over to his place when you were feeling extremely risque. 

Unlike you, Shownu lived with multiple of his close friends. He preferred to come to yours since he could be as loud as he wanted but you’ve convinced him to sneak you in once everyone was asleep for some fun. To your pleasure and surprise, he’s grown to like the concept of possibly getting caught. Hands down the hottest sex you’ve had with him was in the shower the morning after a hookup. 

It was 7 am, so you both were sure that you could have some quick fun in the shower before the others woke up. Your hands were splayed on the tiled wall in front of you as Shownu’s hands pulled you back into his thrusts. He was balls deep in you when a knock sounded through the door. Your eyes widened as he froze. You look over your shoulder at him but he was already looking to his left as if he could see the door to the bathroom through the dense shower curtains. You could tell by the look on his face he was unsure of what to do. There was another knock at the door, more impatient now. 

“Uh, yeah?” Shownu called out, eyes locking with yours.

“I need to pee!” Jooheon whines, shifting his weight from his left foot to his right foot.

“Can you come back in 10 minutes?”

“It’s realllly bad, just let me come in please!” Jooheon pleads.

Jooheon was the only person you knew who could verbalize a pout. He was not the youngest in the house but he was used to getting his way and in turn, was a little bit bratty. Shownu especially spoiled him so you were curious about what his next move would be. Neither of you had decided to enlighten your friends about your arrangement and you didn’t exactly want to explain to Jooheon what you were doing getting your guts rearranged by one of his best friends in the shower. 

Shownu glances at the curtain, then you again before a wicked grin spread across his face. 

“Come in!” He calls out and you open your mouth to protest but then the door opens and Shownu covers your mouth with his hand, slowing down his thrusts but making sure to slide every inch of him inside you. 

“Thank fuck. Thank you.” Jooheon says hurriedly as he enters the bathroom. 

You swallow thickly as you become hyperaware of the fact that less than 3 feet away stood one of your friends, clueless to the fact that you were at his place let alone fucking his best friend. The thought was slightly worrying but you couldn’t deny the thrill of this. Your walls clenching around Shownu was enough to clue him in that you were enjoying this albeit your cheeks being red with embarrassment. 

“You like this, don’t you? Knowing Jooheon is right on the other side of that curtain, completely unaware that you’re in here with me.” Shownu husks into your ear, his chest pressed against your back as his lips ghost over your ear.

You whimper softly, eyes squeezing shut as you will yourself to not moan out loud. The water can only drown out so much sound. Shownu’s chest vibrates against your back as he chuckles softly, his free hand moving from your hip to your clit and rubbing slow, careful circles. Half of you was thankful that he was moving slowly so it was easier to keep quiet, but the other half wanted to slap him for the teasing drag of his cock against your walls. 

After what felt like the longest piss known to man, Jooheon finally flushes and washes his hands before leaving the bathroom.

“I hate you.” You say the moment Shownu’s hand leaves your mouth. 

“I love you.” He responds without missing a beat, his lips curling into his signature smile.

Your response is lost on your tongue as your heart leaps into your throat. He’s always said those three words to you every time you ended a phone call or parted ways after a day of hanging out. But right now when he’s still slowly thrusting into you and staring deep into your eyes with nothing but adoration and warmth in his, it was slightly overwhelming. That desire you hid deep inside of you once you started this arrangement comes bursting to the surface. The desire for this to be something more than a fun hookup. The desire for this to become permanent.

“Hey, did I upset you by letting Jooheon in? I’m sorry if I crossed a line and you didn’t really want him to come in.” Shownu’s voice breaks your thought as his hips still.

“No, no no. I liked it! You felt it, I enjoyed it. It was hot.” You reassure him as you turn around to face him.

“Well, why are you so quiet? I said I love you.” Shownu asks, his tone deflating a bit.

An upset Shownu was high on the list of things you hated to see. So against your better judgment, you cupped his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. Shownu made a small sound of shock before his hands found your waist and he returned the kiss. You pull away a few moments later, eyes still closed as you revel in the fantasy in your head for a little while. When you open your eyes, Shownu is already looking at you.

“I love you too.” You reply surely as your thumb caresses his cheek. 

The words held a different weight this time. You wondered if he would understand that. The answer to your question isn’t clear since Shownu’s response is only a smile.

As time progressed and you learned more about each other’s bodies, you found yourself treading into dangerous territory. You knew the post-sex cuddling was a bad idea but you wanted to feed that small part of you that wanted to be with Shownu. The problem was it was getting greedier and greedier and you didn’t know what to do. Had this been anyone else you’d have cut this short a while ago, but this was Shownu. He was a huge part of your life for the past 3 years, cutting him off was not an option.

Ultimately, you decided to ignore it. This was casual sex, nothing more and you shouldn’t get your hopes up. 

Yet you still found your heart crumbling when Shownu drops the bomb on you.

The two of you were chilling on the couch, watching some random Netflix original with his housemates. Your legs were laying in his lap as you both huddled under a blanket. You were zoned out for a moment, once again contemplating the position you were in with Shownu when something Wonho says catches your attention.

“Shownu, you’ve been a bit more upbeat lately.” Wonho leans over the arm of the couch he’s on, a teasing smirk on his face. “And I noticed some marks on you when we were working out this morning.”

“Ooo, Shownu you’ve been fucking someone? Never thought I’d see the day.” Changkyun chimes in from his spot on the floor. 

You laugh along with Jooheon as Shownu shakes his head. 

“At least he’s getting some, you can’t say the same can you, Kyunie?” Jooheon teases before dodging a pillow Changkyun launches his way.

“Lucky I’m too lazy to get up.” Changkyun murmurs as Jooheon’s laughs get louder.

“Anyway!” Wonho calls the attention back to him. “So, you got a girlfriend?”

The room is quiet except for the movie playing in the background. 7 pairs of eyes on Shownu, waiting for a response.

You two weren’t a couple at all despite the fact you wouldn’t be against it. So the last thing you expect to hear Shownu say is— 

“Yes.”

The boys erupt, immediately asking questions. When will they meet her? Where did he meet her? Why didn’t he tell them earlier? But they all fell on deaf ears as you sit up straight. 

A girlfriend? You never thought about the possibility of Shownu seeing someone else alongside you. He had no reason to be committed to you and people hit on him left and right so what was stopping him? You never talked about being exclusive, but it had been for you. You weren’t with anyone else. Knowing that he had a girlfriend and you were the side chick in this situation made your stomach drop and you wanted to cry. 

At least initially. 

That sadness quickly morphed into burning hot anger. You stood up and pushed your way passed Kihyun, going down the hall to Shownu’s room and shutting the door forcefully behind you. 

You hastily take off the shirt and basketball shorts you borrowed from Shownu and start putting on your clothes with the intention of leaving. The last thing you wanted was to be near him. You needed to go. Clear your head and figure out what to do next. You had no one to blame but yourself when it came to why you were the side chick. You remind yourself that you didn’t mention exclusivity or any romantic relationship of any sort. You brought up the casual aspect of this arrangement. However, it was FWB 101 to make your fuck buddy aware if you were with more than just them. What if he caught something and gave it to you? Yes, you usually use condoms but sometimes in the heat of the moment you both forgot but you never worried because you were sure he was clean and wouldn’t endanger you like that. 

Yet here he was, with a whole girlfriend. 

Did she know about you? If he kept her from you then he must be keeping you from her too, right? This revelation only made you more pissed. So much so that you don’t register the bedroom door opening and closing behind you.

“What’s wrong?” Shownu asks, tone soft and worried.

It took everything in you not to scoff at him as you pull up your jeans and button them. 

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” You repeat, giving him a look of disbelief. “You can’t be serious right now Shownu.”

“I’m very serious. You left in a huff and I don’t know why.”

“Then stay confused while I go for a walk.” You respond, pulling your jacket on.

You try to walk around him but he moves in front of you.

“No. I’m not letting you run out of here unhappy. What’s wrong?” He asks again, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“Don’t touch me right now!” You shrug his hands off and move away from him.

Your outburst makes Shownu raise his eyebrows. You rarely, if ever, raise your voice at him with legitimate anger.

“You got some nerve, you know that?” You face his window, watching traffic pass by and the sun setting. The sky’s colorful display eased you slightly, but Shownu speaking brought back the irritation full force.

“You’re mad at me? What did I do?”

Your foot taps rapidly on the floor as you decide on the right thing to say. 

“How long?” 

When your question is met with no response you turn to look at Shownu. You wanted to slap the confused and oblivious look off his face but you restrain yourself and keep your distance from him. 

“How long...?” 

“How long have you been hiding your girlfriend from me?”

Shownu tilts his head, confused look intensifying. 

“Hiding my girlfriend?” He repeats, the look on his face shifting from confusion to slight bewilderment.

“Stop playing dumb Shownu! Just be honest with me. Why didn’t you tell me you were with someone else? That’s something you’re supposed to communicate to me.” You manage to lower your voice, reining in your frustration.

There was still a group of men just down the hall and you didn’t want them to hear you.

“With someone else?”

“If you repeat what I say one more time I swear I’m gonna slap fire outta you.” You snarl through grit teeth. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand you because you’re not making any sense.”  Shownu holds his hands up in surrender and stepping out of slapping range. 

“Okay. Okay, fine.” You rub your temples as you take a deep breath. “Let’s break this down. You are fucking someone else besides me. You didn’t think to tell me. That is why I am mad.” 

“But I’m not sleeping with anyone else.” Shownu shakes his head to emphasize his point. 

“You just told them you had a girlfriend!” You point at the door as if the others were standing out there instead of in the living room.

“You are my girlfriend! I’m sorry if you weren’t ready for me to tell them anything but I didn’t have any other way to explain the marks. I panicked a bit.”

All the tension leaves your body, shoulders slumping as you stare at Shownu dumbfounded.

“Huh?” was the only response you could muster up. His words replay in your head and then it all clicks.

He was talking about you. There was no other girl. He hadn’t been hiding anything or anyone from you. You open and close your mouth several times, trying to find a reply that felt right.

“So back there in the living room, you meant me? I’m your girlfriend?” 

Even though the answer was staring you in the face, you had to get 100% clarity. 

“Yes? I mean, I thought since we— you know— had sex that we were together? Friends don’t have sex. So by continuing to sleep together, I thought we were casually stepping into the boyfriend-girlfriend territory? Unless we’re not and I understood everything wrong.” Shownu’s voice gets quieter as he keeps talking, uncertainty becoming more and more evident with each word that slips through his lips.

He shoves his hands into his pocket, eyes looking around the room instead of staying on you. A telltale sign he was feeling embarrassed. 

“I should have asked for clarification about us— about this whole thing. We don’t have to be together if you don’t want to be. I’ll go back out there and tell the guys-”

You cut off Shownu’s rambling by kissing him softly, hand resting on the back of his neck. A pair of familiar gentle hands find their way to your waist, as you deepen the kiss. Shownu matches your pace easily once his initial shock wears off. When you pull away from him, Shownu looks at you with that oblivious face for the umpteenth time. 

“Now I’m confused again.” Shownu frowns a bit and you chuckle. 

“Don’t be. I’ll be clear and honest. I want to be with you. I want to be your girlfriend. I would like for you to be my boyfriend if you’re willing to have me.”

“I’d really like that a lot. I like you a lot.” He gently takes your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

You look down at your hands before interlocking your fingers with his.

“Same here.”

Shownu pulls you into a hug, arms wrapping around you and holding you snug against him. While enjoying the close embrace, a question does come to your mind.

“You didn’t think it was weird that we didn’t go on dates?” You ask with a chuckle. 

“I thought of breakfast in the morning as a date of sorts.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Just spending time together was enough for me. Official date or not.”

The grin that spread across your face was involuntary, as was you pulling Shownu into another kiss. His sweet words were enough to make your chest bloom with warmth and the feeling only intensified when you realize this would be a common occurrence now. Shownu as a friend was already doting, but now the affection would increase tenfold. 

When you two separate from each other, Shownu has a fond look on his face as he rubs your back. 

“Still gonna leave?” 

You shake your head, “No need anymore. Let’s go back out there.”

Shownu nods before turning around to open the door. He’s about to step through the threshold when you take his hand again. He glances down at your locked hands, then at you. 

“You sure?” 

You knew walking back in there holding hands would only incite a flurry of accusations and questions from the others, but you didn’t care. Shownu was yours now. That wasn’t something to hide. You wanted everyone to know, starting with your closest friends.

“Very.” You nod your head surely.

He squeezes your hand before leading the way back to the living room. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you approached the end of the hall but a glance at Shownu calmed you. If he was by your side, you could do anything. It was true as friends, and it would continue to be true as lovers.

“Hey, Shownu?” You stop right before crossing into the living room.

“Hm?” He turns his head to look at you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[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