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#I have a Lot of things to say about it but I will keep it brief
emmyrosee · 2 days
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Imagine having a kid with Sukuna and him urging you to have a day out after giving birth and taking care of the baby so you can have a fun stress free day with friends, and then him having a daddy daughter date. I thought it’s cute 🥰
oh… oh you KNOW HOW I FEEEEEEEEL ABOUT A DAD!AU (bro this got so long im sO SORRY-)
———
“Okay, there’s three bottles of milk in the fridge.”
“Okay.”
“And her melts are in the cabinet!”
“I know, I live here too.”
“Oh! And her stuffed lamb is her favorite to nap with-“
“Babe,” Sukuna laughs, wrapping an arm around you. In his other arm, Akiara is held securely, with an arm under her thighs to keep her perched against his chest, the pacifier in her mouth bouncing as she rattles a small toy in her hands. “I got this. It’ll be fine.”
“Okay, but if you need me, call me.”
“I’m not going to call you. Go have fun,” he encourages. Deep down, he knows you’re terrified to leave the baby with anyone for more than 15 minutes, always keeping her in close proximity and within earshot. The farthest you’ve gone is to shower while Sukuna indulges with tummy time, and it seems that every time, you’re surprised the house hasn’t crumbled in the brief period.
But Akiara is five months now. And your friends begged you to come shopping with them, missing you from outings with the group. Sukuna knows you trust him implicitly, but your separation anxiety is physically felt in the air this point. He pulls you in for a hug and presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “go. If the house catches on fire, I’ll call you. Otherwise, I can handle a few hours with my own spawn.” You tense slightly, and he offers you a stern look, “do you trust me?”
“Of course I do, but-“
“Then let me take care of everything. Go.”
You offer him a shaky sigh and make your way over to Akiara in his arms, “mommy loves you so much, okay?” You whisper. She babbles and grabs your hair, and Sukuna can see the nervous tears welling up. “I’ll be home in two hours tops.”
“Don’t time yourself,” he chuckles. “Go with your girlfriends. I gave you the credit card, go buy some clothes, or a necklace, or those expensive ass pastries you love so much.” Then, he nods his head towards the door, “scram. Before you cry your mascara off.”
“Okay,” you sigh. “Okay-“ you blow them both a few kisses as you slowly make your way to the door, “I love you both so much. Behave. Oh, and nap time is at 1:30-“
“Babe. Go,” he snickers. He watches as you open the door and walk backwards out, your eyes focused on the two of them until the door shuts fully, keeping you outside and them on the inside. Sukuna sighs in relief and he adjusts Akiara to be held arms length, “you, stinky girl, need a bath,” he hums, and when the little girl coos, he brings her tiny body up to his mouth to playfully bite her chubby belly, hiccupy laughter filling the air briefly before he pulls a face of disgust and holds her back out. “Yeah. You stink. Like a lot.”
Sukuna wastes no time in setting up her bathtub and cleansing the tiny child with her soaps, letting her splash the warm water for some time until she reaches up for him. He barely gets her out of the tub and into a towel before his phone buzzes wildly. He sighs and answers it, “do I have to block your number?”
“No!” You whine. “I just wanted to see how things were going. I just got to the restaurant, wanted to make sure everything was okay before I ate.”
“Well the dog got out, I broke a vase and our kid went to college, so not great,” he says flatly, and when you huff in annoyance, and smirks, “everything is fine. She just had a bath, I’m trying to dry her off, and then we’re going to watch some of those dancing fruits she likes so much. Goodbye.”
“Wait- you bathed her before you fed her?” You ask.
He pulls his mouth into a straight line, “yes. Because she smelt like shit fart-“
“Sukuna!” You snap.
“If I have to bathe her again, I will. It’s not the end of the world,” he tries to soothe. When you click your tongue he chuckles again. “Okay. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” you say, ending the phone call. He pockets the device and looks down at his child. “Shes your mother alright,” he says. His daughter merely babbles and chews on her fingers. He gets her settled into a clean diaper before hoisting her back and onto his hip, making his way to the living room, resting her on his massive stomach and clicking on the TV for some entertainment. There’s a baseball game on, surely you won’t mind if he indulges while his baby lays on his chest.
The colors are good stimulation.
“Who you got money on?” He asks Akiara, who blinks eyes like yours up at him. When she smiles a gummy smile, he shrugs, “I don’t know. They’ve got a really good pitcher.” His thick fingers gently stroke up and down her spine, so gently and warm that he feels Akiara’s breathing slowly even out, his little girl falling asleep on his chest. He winces, he knows you’re not going to be thrilled about an early nap time, but who the hell is he to wake a sleeping baby?
A sleeping baby who sleeps for hours. You’re going to be pissed at him.
By the time the game is over, Akiara is still fast asleep on his chest, tiny hands balled into fists as her long lashes lay on her cheeks. Sukuna’s gotta give you credit, you haven’t called or texted since her bath, and now it’s well into four hours since you’ve left and you’re still out with your friends. He’s proud of you.
He’s not sure how long in total Akiara was sleeping for, but not long after the game, she slowly twitches awake, eyes fluttering open before fixating on him. He watches fondly as her body slowly wakes up, starting with her sleepy eyes that blink open, followed by her mouth which opens to let out the smallest yawn.
“Good morning, sleepy girl,” he hums, gently cradling the back of her head. “Was that a good nap?” Akiara merely thunks her head back against his chest in response. He kisses her head softly before standing up, shuffling to the kitchen to grab one of the prepared bottles from the fridge. He pops it in her mouth, where her tiny fists assist him in holding it. The child drinks the milk happily, wide eyes blinking as she downs the beverage hungrily. He smirks, “definitely my kid.”
With that, you come home.
He can tell by the jingling of keys you’re trying to hurry in as fast as possible, and he snickers at your struggle. Once the door finally creaks open, you haul your bags into the home and kick the door shut, smiling as your eyes land on your little family. “Hey you.”
“What’s up?” He hums, kissing you as you get close. “How was it?”
“It was great!” You squeal, and he can’t fight the way his heart squeezes at your excitement. “I got some new dresses, a pair of heels, some perfumes- oh, and I got you a cologne-“
“That’s my girl,” he says, but he can tell your attention is focused on the small girl he’s currently burping, and he shrugs, “you want to take over?”
When you nod sheepishly, he gently passes Akiara over to you, and you coo down at her, “hi, Mumma’s girl,” you coo, and she burps loudly in your face. “Well excuse you!”
Sukuna can’t fight the laughter that barks from his throat, snickers tearing through until you’re smiling and shaking your head, and he pulls you in for another hug.
He loves that his small family fits in his arms.
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rosesaints · 3 days
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:* HIT ME HARD AND SOFT!
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DID I BREAK YOUR HEART? DID I WASTE YOUR TIME? ⸻ t. fushiguro, g. suguru, n. kento, g. satoru
summary: your breakup (and sometimes makeup) sex experiences with jjk men when inspired by the new billie eilish album! angst. warnings: 18+ mdni, mentions of infidelity, lots of angst lol, unprotected sex, breeding kink (nanami), fingering, oral (f!receiving)
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: ̗̀➛ TOJI FUSHIGURO
I SAW YOU IN THE CAR WITH SOMEONE ELSE AND COULDN'T SLEEP! if something happens to him, you can bet that it was me.
toji doesn't know how he feels about the fact that you've moved on, and he decides to do something about it.
"is this really what you're doing now? living the dream?"
toji has this remarkable talent of sensing when you're finally at peace. you had just been dropped off at your aparment by your date, and the dust hadn't even settled yet before toji materialized by your door.
"that's exactly what the fuck i'm doing," you scoffed. red hot anger coursing through your veins as he acts like your relationship was nothing more than a lunatic pipe dream. like the very prospect of you being happy with someone else was an idea so foreign, it was laughable. "go home, toji. i don't even know why you came. did you really think that coming here, guns blazing and chest puffed up, would convince me to come back?"
toji appraises you for a moment, and it shouldn't send a shock down your spine, but the next thing he says does.
"has he made you cum?"
you freeze.
the truth was, your date hasn't. poor guy couldn't even last four seconds inside you before cumming, sheepishly evading you afterwards to clean himself off to properly satisfy you.
"you heard me, sweetheart. i won't ask again," toji grins. "what's wrong? where's all that fire you had earlier?"
"n-no," you try hard to fight the humiliation that threatens to bubble over in your chest. "not...not yet⸺"
he's stepping forward in mere moments, crowding you into your apartment and locking the door behind him, a wicked smile on the edge of his lips.
"you know, i like this new persona of yours. seriously, i really do," he's so close, invading your personal space and you can feel how hard he's getting against your thigh. "all this bite, all this fire, it's fucking sexy. but i think it's time to stop fucking around and come home, yeah?"
you know there's only ever been one way to go with toji.
"you poor thing," much later, to his delight, toji's got his one of his hands working back and forth over your cunt, pleased at how soaked and needy and docile you were, hips jutting forward to meet his rough, calloused hand. his other hand's wrapped around your much smaller hand, jerking him off in a brutal and agonizing pace. he curses at the way you're grazing your teeth over his neck, whimpering every time he circles your clit. "fuck. so fucking needy."
"pretty little cunt's gone so long without being touched, huh? that's okay," you shiver when his voice drops, dripping with determination. "we've got all week to make up for all that lost time."
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: ̗̀➛ GETO SUGURU
I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO SAY IT. you could've been the greatest.
you've tried your best to keep geto satisfied for the longest time, to let him get his rest, but you can't fight how alone you've felt anymore.
"you'll go," the words are exhausting and holds the weight of a future you can never have. a future where he doesn't go, a future where you don't have to settle for staying. "and i'll stay."
you've watched him come and go for years, sometimes with a smile on your face, most times with tears in your eyes. this time, you're struck with the realization that you just feel nothing. none of the flightless uncertainty, none of the promises that you tell yourself that he'll find his way back. it's terrifying.
"i think we have to end it, sugu."
there was no prelude, no warning signs. geto had stopped by the night that he came back, soft and boneless and aching for your touch and your comfort. the realization hit you in the middle of such a routine and familiar night, geto sprawled across your bed in the most peaceful state you've seen him for so long as you got ready for bed. it kills you to have to shatter that, but you think it'll shatter you if you keep holding back. "don't know how much more i can take of this."
geto sighs. he would be stupid to not see this was coming.
every time he said goodbye only got harder and harder and harder, and he could see the way you dimmed every time he pulled away.
but he was selfish, so selfish, and willed himself to ignore it and hold on for a little bit longer. to chase that high of getting to know you, getting to feel your touch on his skin, spend nights draped across each other and whispering sweet nothings.
he nods. "i understand."
when you join him underneath the covers and he leans into your touch, hot and full of want for things he can't have, you let him take the clothes off your back, let him drift lower and lower until he presses sweet kisses to your thighs.
your breath stutters, and he wants to consume you. wants to remember how you taste, how you whine and plead for more, the way you used to look at him with reverence. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks like he wants to make a home out of you, hand reaching up to cup a hand around your breast and graze your nipple.
tightening your thighs around his head deprives him of his oxygen, makes him forget what's going to come next.
you come on his tongue, heart hollow and echoing.
he could've been the greatest.
"i'll come back," there was something solemn in his voice, a grief that overcomes him in waves. he pushes a loose strand of hair away from your face and knows. "and you'll come with me."
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: ̗̀➛ NANAMI KENTO
OPEN UP THE DOOR, CAN YOU OPEN UP THE DOOR? i know you said before you can't cope with any more.
it's been a year since you broke up with nanami. you don't know what to say, so you let your actions speak for you.
you're not sure why you called. it came so easily, like muscle memory, typing his number into your phone and calling a number you haven't dialed in a long time. it rings once before he's picking up, voice laced with worry and confusion and the sound of your name on his lips sounds like everything you've missed in the past year. "what's wrong?"
"kento, come home. i miss you," your breaths are coming out in shallow waves, anxious and jittery as you await his response on the other side of the call. "i know i said before that i can't cope anymore, but i want to try, really try this time."
"i'll be there soon. stay... stay right where you are."
it takes him all of seven to come knocking at your door, chest panting and leaning against the doorway in a daze, like he's still in disbelief that you've allowed him back. "is this... is this real?"
he's had dreams about this exact moment, plagued with the thoughts of how it ended the last time, how you'd broken down in his arms in defeat⸺he's had time to think through every possible scenario, every way that he could prove to you that he would change, he would make you a priority, spend the rest of his days making it up to you.
"i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you⸺" nanami, normally so composed and careful with his words, can't help that all his emotions, all the love he's held safe for you in his chest, tumbles out like a flash flood. all you can do is nod helplessly,
when you cum, it's with a gasp, back arching off the bed as he maneuvers your body with an easy familiarity that can only be acquired through years of experience, years of knowing your body inside and out.
he's not too far behind, getting closer and closer the more he looks at your wrecked and fucked-out expression. he laces a hand through yours, intertwined.
"never gonna let you go again," his thrusts are getting more impulsive, thoughts going hazy when he thinks of you, swollen with his baby with the happiest expression on your face. "i think it's time we start a family."
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: ̗̀➛ GOJO SATORU
I TRY TO LIVE IN BLACK AND WHITE, BUT I'M SO BLUE! i'd like to mean it when i say i'm over you.
your ex-boyfriend gojo just can't bring himself to get over you.
in a lot of ways, being with gojo was like staring into the sun. on your first date, he had taken you on a picnic overlooking the shakujii river to go see the cherry blossoms. your head was on his lap and he had gently titled your head back, chuckling as you closed your eyes as per his instructions. "just close for a moment," you hummed, but the sensation of warm sunlight was overtaken by the feeling of being cradled in his hands. "open your eyes."
for a moment, all you could see was light, vibrant blue. eyes adjusting to the sun, until bright sapphire eyes came into focus. it was the happiest you had seen him for a while. "did you feel it?"
at the time, you didn't understand what he wanted you to see, didn't know what it was that he wanted you to search for.
did you feel it?
this time, the roles are reversed. you're cradling his head in your hands as he's fallen to his knees in front of you, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay as he presses his head into your abdomen, shoulders shaking with the intensity of his emotions, holding onto you like a lifeline. "satoru, i don't know if i can keep doing this anymore."
"no, you don't mean that."
"we can't keep doing this," you weren't a fool. you know he hasn't been doing well, can see it in the dark circles that have temporarily made a home under his eyes, the cursed energy that radiates off of him in waves. "you can't just keep coming back, sa⸺gojo. you have to move on."
when he rises, he places his head onto your shoulder, and for a moment, the rush of familiarity overpowers you. "satoru. just say my name please, that's all i'll ask for."
"satoru⸺"
he's pressing warm, soft kisses against your neck, nuzzling and inhaling the scent of your hair. his hands are exploring the length of your back, fingertips slowly dragging across your skin. when he pulls back to look at you, sapphire eyes shimmering with unshed tears, you find yourself spiraling again.
it's so much easier to forget that it's over, really over, when he's fucking into you like it's the last time. it's in the slow drag of his dick as he takes his time to soak it all in, the sensuous pace that he knows drives you crazy. you're not sure where you end and where he begins, hands holding onto your waist like a lifeline as he snaps his hips. it sends tremors down your spine and you see stars behind your eyes.
satoru cups your cheek, and it's like burning alive, like a fever you can't shake. "that's it, sweetheart, fall apart for me."
when you pull the blanket over him later, under the soft glow of the moonlight, you think you realize what he meant all those years back.
he's all you could see.
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© ROSESAINTS ! — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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moonstruckme · 1 day
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hi mae, if its not too much trouble could you do something with james and r where r has to deal with likr a creep on a train or smth. ive just had a real weird experience rn and its just.hm
Ugh I'm so sorry babe, I wish we each had a James with us all the time
cw: man being creepy (no sa or harassment, just gross behavior)
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 934 words
You clock the danger long before your boyfriend does, but you suppose it’s a lot more drilled into one of you than the other. 
The man gets on a few stops after you do, and his gaze seems aimless until it lands on you. It’s not a busy time; the bus is nearly empty, but of course he goes and stands next to you as if there are no open seats. You should have known better than to sit by the aisle. 
James’ chatter fades into the background as your mind starts to whirl with possibilities. What if this man grabs you? What if he tries to keep you from getting off at your stop? What if he waits until you get off, and then follows you home? 
“Hey.” James is looking at you quizzically. He reaches for your opposite arm, scrubbing up and down lightly. “You okay?” 
You use the touch as an excuse to lean into his side, murmuring so the man can’t hear you. “If that guy’s still here when it’s my stop, will you get off with me? Or I could ride to yours, if that’s better.” 
James looks past you, noticing the man for the first time, and you see clarity dawn on his expression as he does the same math you had. You can feel the man’s stare burning into the side of your head; he’s not even being subtle about it. James pulls you closer to his side. 
“Hey, mate,” he says, tension underlying his jovial tone. “Do you wanna take a seat? There are plenty open.” 
You chance a look over, and the man’s eyes lock with yours like it’s the opportunity he’s been waiting for. You feel James’ arm tense. 
“You have pretty hair,” the man says. 
You smile tersely. Polite, carefully unfriendly. “Thanks.” 
That seems to satisfy him; the man does take a seat. The one directly behind you. Anxiety prickles over your skin at not being able to see him. 
You at least feel better now that James is aware, too. He keeps his face turned to you, one eye on the seat behind you, as he picks up your conversation about the film you’ve just seen. Remus and Sirius were the ones who wanted to see it in the cinema; they thought it was artistic and meaningful, whereas you and James are in agreement it was dull and pretentious. Odd, aimless dialogue, experimental camera angles, hardly any plot. James thinks if you can get Sirius away from Remus he’ll agree. Competitive thing that he is, he’s hatching a plan to do so when the man leans forward and pushes his nose into your hair. 
The sound of his inhale sends goosebumps racing down every inch of your skin. You go rigid, attempting subtly to lean forward while all the nerves in your body scream at you to run. 
“Hey, what the fuck?” James doesn’t take care to lower his voice. 
As though you’d been waiting for permission, you jump away, getting as far out of reach as possible before turning around. James’ arm has barred across the back of your seat, his hand gripping the pole on the opposite side and the muscles in his forearm strained with tension. 
“What makes you think you can do that to someone?” he asks, equal parts incredulous and irate. 
People in the bus have turned to look. The bus slows as you approach the next stop. 
“Let’s get off,” you tell James. 
“What?” He turns to you for a second before seeming to remember he should be keeping an eye on the man. Who has been silent, but for what he said to you. He looks entertained by James’ outburst, which almost scares you worse than anything that’s happened thus far. You know James is very fit, but you don’t want to get him in a fight. “Why should we get off? We haven’t done anything wrong!” 
The doors open, and people start to file off. “James,” you say, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and giving a slight tug. “Please.” 
He hesitates a second longer, looking somewhere between bewildered and outraged, before he says, “Fine, okay,” and grabs your bag. You tug him into the aisle, careful to keep both of you out of reach of the man. Once you’re off the bus, you start walking quickly, pulling James along and casting glances over your shoulder to be sure the man from the bus doesn’t follow. It’s only when the bus pulls away and he hasn’t gotten off that you stop. 
“Ugh.” You heave a tremendous sigh, hugging James around the middle and dropping your forehead to his chest. “Sorry.” 
“That was fucking insane,” he says, cupping the back of your head protectively. “Does that happen to you often?” 
You let out a little laugh. “That specifically? No. But I know better than to talk to guys like that.” 
“Sorry.” James kisses your hairline. Lets his lips rest there. “I thought it was going to help.” 
“It’s not your fault, he was going to be weird either way. I’m really glad you were there.” 
He squeezes you tighter. It helps you release the tension from your shoulders, giving in to him. “That was fucking disgusting,” he says. “I’m sorry I’m ever not there.” 
You shudder. “Is it weird that I feel like I need to shower?” 
“Nope. But do it at mine. I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about that guy finding your place for the next several days.” 
“How would he do that, James?” 
“Dunno. But just to be safe.”
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izzyreadingblog · 2 days
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Popcorn | Alexia Putellas x reader
+18 minors please do not read it.
A/N: English is not my first language and i'm a newbie writing this type of content, sorry if is bad and for the mistakes.
(I just can't take out of my head Alexia's goal and celebration after seeing it only a couple of meters away from me, I need to write something for her. )
Alexia and you have been getting more and more close as the season went by. Now every week the two of you have at least one movie night to be able to spend time together. The both of you have been dancing around your feelings for months and after the constant teasing you had suffered from Patri and Pina, you decided that tonight you were going to act on your feelings and see how things go. 
So as the both of you were watching a criminal documentary (Alexia’s favorite) you weren't paying much attention to, you tried to think of a way of telling Alexia your feelings and after 15 minutes of no ideas, one came to mind. Alexia was the most competitive person you have ever met, so you were going to see if she wanted to play along with you and have you as the final present. 
So as Alexia picked a popcorn and went to put it in her mouth, you bowed a little and grabbed the popcorn with your teeth, snatching it from Alexia’s hand, she gave you one of her looks and you smiled at her as you went to go back to your position, when you felt Alexia's hand on the back of your neck, keeping you there and not letting you move.
“Do you want another one mi niña?” Her warm breath stroked your face.
A new popcorn landed on the blonde's lips, that time, you removed the popcorn with your tongue, with which you licked Alexia's lips. Alexia, at your action, breathed heavily and looked at your lips while licking her own.
"Another one?" Alexia asked with a grin on her face.
“Uhm..” you said cause you were thinking. 
Did Alexia want to provoke you too? Well, if that’s the case two can play the game. 
You nodded and Alexia placed another popcorn in her mouth, you grabbed it by joining your lips to Alexia's, you chewed the popcorn without separating your lips and, when you swallowed it, you took out your tongue and licked your lips, a gesture that included Alexia's lips too, who sighed.
"Did you want to eat your popcorn, my love?" you asked in a seductive voice.
“Only if you give them to me…”
“What do you think about eating the popcorn from my body?” You didn't know what you were doing, you were just getting carried away for the moment and hoping Alexia would play into it. 
Alexia stared at you, a lot of thoughts going through her mind as you finished saying your proposal. 
Is she serious or was she kidding you?  Alexia didn’t know what to do, your relationship was not clear, you were friends and she didn’t want to make a mistake, she felt scared and she didn’t want to lose this relationship. 
Alexia was silent and on her mind when you moved and stretched on the couch and lifted your shirt without discovering your breasts, only leaving your belly in the air, and taking a handful of the white popcorn Alexia was eating, you placed them carefully on your abdomen, spreading them. 
Alexia got out of her mind and swallowed saliva as she looked at you with desire in her eyes but still with doubts and fear that could be sensed clearly by you just looking at her.
“Oh,” you said, making a pout as you sensed Alexia’s doubts. “Don't tell me you don't want to eat the popcorn anymore” You mused sitting down, causing all the popcorn to fall on the couch.
Alexia regained her composure and with her captain voice (the one that ignites you) says "Lie down again, now" and you obeyed her without resistance. 
Alexia took a few popcorns and placed them again on your belly, scattering around each piece on your skin as soon as you lay down and stayed still. 
You felt a warmth invade your body while Alexia was placing the popcorn on your skin, her touch made you dizzy. Were you drunk? No, you weren't. You were horny.
Alexia knelt in front of the couch and bowed her head to catch each popcorn with her mouth. You could feel her warm breath hitting you every time she repeated the action and you wished that she would not move that fast and touch you more. 
As Alexia was touching you, you felt your abdomen tighten, your skin started tingling, and you had to force yourself to stay in the same position and not drop the popcorn that was left on your skin.
Alexia took her time and ate all the popcorn that was there, and you raised your head to look at her, then you saw how she bent down again and you had to swallow saliva when you saw that Alexia's mouth was very dangerously close to the waistband of your pants. Alexia then moved a little further down and buried her head between your slightly raised legs. You felt a strong heat forming between your legs.
“You shouldn't have gotten up before, now there's popcorn everywhere… eres una chica mala” Alexia complained playfully.
You sighed when the blonde bowed again, the shorts did not cover your legs much, therefore, you felt Alexia's hair caressing your skin, her lips colliding with your legs when she grabbed the popcorn that was left there.
"You can stop," you told her.
“But I'm hungry...-” Alexia complained with a pout on her face. 
“Ale please…”
"I'm not going to get up until I eat every popcorn in your body," Alexia said, throwing a handful more popcorn at you.
You sighed heavily when Alexia's tongue ran down your belly, picking up the popcorn that was on you. You weren't very sure how it had happened, but your shirt had gone up more than you had lifted it up and now it showed something of your breasts, your shorts had the waistband down and Alexia's mouth went from the bottom up and vice versa every single time she ate a piece of popcorn.
You are having a really hard time breathing as you are trying not to moan. But how can you avoid it with those sensual caresses?
"Have you... are you done yet?" you asked. Why was your voice so hoarse?
Alexia looked up and looked at you smiling. You couldn't help but look at her mouth, she was so sensual and provocative after having gone through your entire belly several times.
“Uhm…” you noticed that Alexia was looking at your breasts and had to swallow saliva. If Alexia keeps her act up you would totally lose yourself. “It seems to me that there is a hidden popcorn here…”
You swallowed saliva when Alexia leaned over you, and her mouth grazed one of your breasts and you could feel how she took a deep breath, trying to control herself and put her nerves at bay.
"It seems to me that this piece doesn't want to go out," Alexia murmured. "But don’t worry I  won't let it beat me."
You felt Alexia’s tongue licking near your nipple. Alexia stood on top of you, without touching you, she had a hand on each side of your body and she held herself with them. She lifted your shirt a little more while her tongue kept struggling with that popcorn that was hiding in that area.
"Take it now please, do something, take it now," You begged. Either Alexia would take her already or you would end up totally losing yourself.
Holy God. When had you come up with that stupid game, in which you had made yourself totally available to Alexia? If you got up, if you said that the game was over and you locked yourself in your room, that torture would end... but what a sweet torture it is.
The air caressed your erect nipples and you couldn't help but gasp when you felt the blonde's long hair caressing them as she moved.
"Ale, please," you said, desperately.
"I got it," Alexia whispered.
Why did you feel that that popcorn didn't exist? Alexia's nose stroked one of your breasts, slowly and gently, until she reached the top.
With your eyes wide open, although clouded by that rough desire, you watched her. You opened your mouth to try and say something but only a sweet moan escaped from your throat when Alexia's lips closed around one of your nipples. If you felt hot and wet before, now you feel like your whole body is burning with desire. Alexia had just lit a lustful fire inside you that was going to be difficult to extinguish. A liquid heat lodged in your crotch, wetting your panties. You twisted under Alexia and arched your back without being able to avoid it. Your breathing had been agitated and you didn't know how to control it.
“I want you so bad”. Alexia’s words made you stop thinking and you pushed all your fears away. Your mind, clouded by desire, tried to make you regain some control, but as you looked at Alexia as she kept licking your nipples, along with the pleasure you felt while she kept touching you, you could not do other things that gave into the pleasure.
“Alexia” you groaned when she stopped licking your nipple to go for the other” Ah...more,” you said so faintly, so sensual.
Alexia couldn't help but suck with more passion that mound so tasty that adorned the top of your chest. While with her mouth she was in charge of pampering one nipple, with her hand she dedicated herself to pinching the other. 
Your restless hands caressed Alexia's soft and strong body under her shirt. You had to clench your fists so as not to direct your hands to the inside of Alexia's pants, you just had to insert your small hand under the elastic and she would find what you have longed for so long at that moment.
“Aahh” you gasped, arching your body completely and making both of your bodies come into contact. “Alexia” you moaned when you felt her pelvis against your own body.
Alexia's body fell on yours, crushing you slightly, you could feel your wet center pressed against hers. Alexia continued to take care of your breasts and she stirred her hair before going down on your back again. From top to bottom, until she reaches those pants again. Alexia put her fingers a little on your strip and reached for your panties, raised them a little, and caressed your skin before going up again.
The blonde stopped tasting her breasts to look at you. Your face was flushed, and your scarlet cheeks made Alexia feel even more desire for you. She needed to have you, she needed to kiss you. Those half-open lips cried out for millions of kisses.
"You're going to drive me crazy," said Alexia, licking her lips.
“Ale please…” you say softly.
“Tell me to stop now, mi niña, because if you don't do it, I won't…” 
“Ale please don’t stop, I need you, I have been needing you for a while now”
As soon as you said those words Alexia covered your mouth with hers, she absorbed your lips before sliding her tongue and covering your whole mouth with it. You groaned as you responded to that kiss full of desire. Your body moved under Alexia's looking for her warmth.
"You need to stop me now if you don’t want this..." Alexia whispered, as she got rid of her shirt and then took off yours, leaving the both of you naked from the waist up.
You didn’t say anything, you looked at her and simply put your emotions so clearly in your face Alexia didn’t need your words to know what you needed and that you wanted for this to keep going. Alexia's lips covered yours again, before going down your neck and nibbling on your shoulder. Her lips continued to go down, stopping briefly on your breasts, she went down your belly until she reached the fabric of your pants. You moaned when Alexia lowered your pants and panties a little. You looked directly into her eyes as you raised your legs and Alexia took off your clothes.
You gasped when you felt Alexia's warm breath caressing your sex. One of the blonde's long fingers landed on your center.
“You're so wet” She murmured as she made her finger go up to caress your center. “So wet…” she repeated, “and everything for me…” She whispered against you when she reached your clitoris.
You had to bite your lip so as not to scream and have a neighbor complain.
Alexia's tongue went up and down throughout your sex, falling like a whip on your most sensitive button, before making circles around and going down until she reached your entrance and got wetter every second that passed. You moaned when Alexia began to lick your clitoris tirelessly while inserting a couple of fingers inside you. The gasps resonated between the four walls of the living room, the atmosphere was heated and you felt like you were burning. Alexia's mouth tortured you with pleasure and you twisted under it while you noticed the orgasm forming in your body.
“Alexia” you called her name as you raised your hips and pulled her hair, “Alexia..” you whispered as you moved impatiently.
You closed your eyes to the swell of pleasure that ran through your whole body and pulled the blonde's hair while you screamed begging for more. Your body, covered by a layer of sweat, moved nervously, you were begging to reach your release, but Alexia set the pace, withdrawing her playful tongue when she noticed you were about to burst, just to go slowly again and make you more and more desperate.
When you finally reached your orgasm, you shouted Alexia’s name, writhing with pleasure and clinging tightly to the cushions. Alexia continued her administration, lowering you from the cloud you were in and when you recovered, she went up on your body giving small kisses through your skin until she reached your mouth. Alexia kissed you softly, playing with your tongue. She separated herself from you to look at you intensely. your hair was scrambled and your eyes were closed, your cheeks were flushed and your lips half-open breathing heavily. 
Alexia smiled and said, “You are beautiful.”
You smiled slightly and opened your eyes, finding Alexia’s face a few centimeters from yours.
"You're more," you replied as you grabbed the back of her neck and put your lips together again.
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killerlookz · 2 days
Note
hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!
Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)
Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein
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description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.
content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference
word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)
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/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/
Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.
You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.
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You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.
"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.
You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.
"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"
You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.
"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.
"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.
"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.
"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."
You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.
"It's just my roommate-"
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Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.
He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.
It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.
There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.
You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.
Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.
"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.
"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."
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A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.
There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.
Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.
"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."
"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.
"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."
"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.
"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.
"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"
You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.
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It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.
You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.
"Does that mean you're coming back here?"
"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."
A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.
He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.
So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.
Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.
Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?
But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.
A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,
"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,
"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.
"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.
The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.
The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"
"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"
You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.
Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.
He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,
"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"
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Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.
And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.
"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.
"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."
"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.
"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."
"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.
"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."
He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.
He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.
"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.
The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand
"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)
"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.
Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.
He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.
If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.
Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.
A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)
You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.
/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/
351 notes · View notes
uzurakis · 3 days
Note
Haii! Can you please write unrequited love w/ Gojo? He slowly starts falling in love w/ reader tho :3!
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strange; it's strange how unrequited love can feel like both a burden and a blessing at the same time. for some time, you've harbored feelings for gojo satoru, your charismatic and charming friend who seemed to effortlessly draw people to him like moths to a flame. from the moment you met him, you knew that someone like him could never feel the same way about someone like you. so, you buried your feelings deep within your heart, hiding them away like a precious secret that you could never dare to reveal.
despite your unrequited love, you cherished every moment you spent with gojo. whether it was laughing together over silly jokes or engaging in deep conversations that lingered late into the night, being by his side filled you with a sense of warmth and happiness that you couldn't find anywhere else. and though you longed for more, you resigned yourself to the role of the supportive friend, or if you're being hasty, a special friend. still, just a friend is enough to be a part of his life in whatever capacity you could.
but as time went on, you couldn't help but notice subtle changes in gojo's behavior. his smiles lingered a little longer when he looked at you, and his laughter sounded a little brighter in your presence. there were moments when his gaze would linger on you, as if he were seeing you in a new light, but you brushed them off as wishful thinking, convincing yourself that you were simply imagining things.
"oi, you've been quiet lately," gojo remarks, breaking the silence that has settled between you. his was being gentle, but there's an underlying curiosity that sends a shiver down your spine. "your mouth can't function or something?"
you swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your heart races in your chest. "just lost in thought, i guess," you reply, hoping he won't press further.
but gojo isn't one to let things slide. he turns to you, his gaze searching yours with a depth that makes your breath catch. "hm? about what?" he asks softly, his voice laced with concern.
you hesitate, unsure of how to articulate the storm of emotions raging inside you. "about.."
"about us," you admit, the words falls faster than your mind could comprehend.
his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and for a moment, you know he's holding back a huge smile. you fear you've said too much. but then his expression softens, and "so? what about us?" he prompts, his eyes never leaving yours.
you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what comes next. "about.."
"about?"
"don't laugh, okay?"
"hey, i'm not laughing here!"
"how much you mean to me!" you confess, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
"heh," gojo chuckles a bit as he fidgets your fingers on his lap. "you mean a lot to me too, you know," he murmurs.
your heart skips a beat at his words, a rush of hope flooding through you. could it be possible that he feels the same way about you as you do about him?
"i know i don't say it often enough. more like, i just have happened to realised," he continues, "but i don't know where i'd be without you. you're like… my anchor, keeping me grounded when everything else feels like it's falling apart. damn, i'm actually being poetic."
all this time, you had convinced yourself that gojo could never feel the same way about you, but now, it seems that perhaps you had been wrong.
your thumb brushing gently against his skin, fidgeting back his finger. you try to whisper, "you mean everything to me."
he smiles, a genuine and heartfelt expression that reaches all the way to his blue eyes. "hm, i knew you'd say that," he says softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss against your forehead. "'cause there's something else i kinda need to tell ya."
your heart races in anticipation as you wait for him to continue. could it be possible that he's about to confess his feelings for you?
"i think i'm falling in love with you," he confesses, his words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread. "i think i am, already."
before you could respond, gojo leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft and tender kiss. in that moment, all doubts and uncertainties melts away, leaving only the truth of your love for one another.
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@uzurakis
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st4rbwrry · 2 days
Text
𝒞𝑅𝒜𝒵𝒴 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸.
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⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: sukuna can’t accept that you’ve moved on. thinks you just need some dick to remind you where home is. ;)
warnings 𑄽𑄺 2.3k. fem reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded. dilf!sukuna, fluff + smut duh, jealousy, sukuna's a cheater n we're dumb, daddy kink, body worship, choking, body worship, dry humping if you squint, consensual coercion, cum play, toxic relationship, sneaky sex, minors aren't welcomed!
꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱; this is very old, originally a self ship but i just wanted to post it bc i have a lot of old fics sitting in the drafts etc.
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sukuna clenches his jaw whenever he notices the new love interest in your life, nearly causing a fight one day you threw a cookout for your family and the man you're currently 'dating' is playing football with your daughter, seeing the stranger pick her up and spin her around when she scores a touchdown. it boils his blood to see your daughter smile at someone who isn't her father. sukuna awaits at the doorstep of his home, or 'ours' as he likes to call it, still delusional about your separation, claiming it's a break when it wasn't . . hands tucked into his dark gray sweatpants pockets with a smile on his usually stern face as he watches your tiny daughter run to him with giggles and bratz dolls in her hands. sukuna crouches low to grab her with a purposely exaggerated grunt, commenting on how big she's getting with a laugh.
you slam the door to your car, retrieving your daughter's duffel bag filled with things she needed for the weekend at daddy's. sukuna holds his child at his hip. you smile at her as she constantly pokes at his cheek to grab his lost attention. he couldn't keep his eyes off you. looking you up down with that all too familiar glint in his eyes. you raise your brow, glaring down at yourself dressed in a black maxi skirt that touches your ankles and a white lace top, feet in black sandals.
"what?"
"going somewhere?" he questions with authority.
"my house and back. i can't look nice?"
"you look good," you ignore the way he licks his pink lips, your daughter tapping his shoulder for the millionth time, the four-year-old always wanting to be the star of the show.
"daddy, can we watch bratz fashion ‘ixies with mommy?!" the little girl screeches excitedly.
"mommy has to go, baby," you drain the light from her face, the child frowning. sukuna eyes you.
"why?" they say periodically. you stare him down with annoyance. now she's gonna question me. before you can even speak, she's at it again.
"but we haven't watched it in months," she whines. "we watch it every day with all three of us."
sukuna sighs, rubbing her back. "it's okay, honey. me and you can just—"
"i'll stay," you cut him off immediately, not fond of seeing your daughter cry. his puppy dog act was irritating. he grins mischievously.
your daughter cheers and you lean forward to pinch her chubby cheeks, speed walking to your car to pull into the driveway before entering the familiar home, feeling somewhat vacant. the vibe is off, but a little nostalgic. you haven't stepped foot into this place in months, unable to, the idea bringing back too many unwanted memories. your divorce wasn't pretty; finding sukuna messing with another woman when you searched through his phone one day to find the messages, his excuses replaying in your head, all bullshit.
she was just one night. one night over six years? they were high-school sweethearts, and he tore that apart for a one-time fling. didn't make sense, never will. it's awkward when you stand in the kitchen you used to cook your happy family meals every day to see him make your daughter lunch for her movie, combing at her curly hair with your fingers as she went on about how she ate dyed eggs for green eggs and ham day at school. the movie was the same as usual, both of you sitting adjacent to her as she ate her lunch and enjoyed the film, falling asleep on sukuna's shoulder thirty minutes in.
school must've taken it out of her. sukuna stretches his arms, breathing out a 'finally' which makes you laugh, standing along with him as he carries her and you shut off the tv, checking a text from the man you're currently fooling around with, nothing serious. just experimenting the dating life again.
you home today? i wanna see you.
you sigh, dropping your shoulders tiredly. you weren't in the mood to see him. he was a funny guy, enjoyable to be around, and made your daughter laugh . . .but he's obscenely clingy. you liked your space, and he didn't know the meaning of it. on top of that, the sex was mediocre. nothing compared to how sukuna fucked me. you dissociated with the world momentarily, chewing on your lip as flashbacks hit, zoning out the sound of sukuna's heavy steps approaching.
"she's tucked in."
your eyes lock onto the veins bulging out of his arms, the white tee he wore hugging his muscles, and the platinum chain swinging around his neck making your face hot. dammit, stop. your stare lingers longer than you expect, sukuna lowering his face to catch your attention with a smirk.
"hello? you good?"
"yeah, sorry," you clear your throat.
"check me out all you want baby, it's still yours."
"sukuna," you roll your eyes, locking your phone and finding your car keys, needing to be as far away from him as possible before you do something you regret.
"what? i'm joking," he furrows his brows when you begin strutting towards the front door, mumbling about how your daughter's ballet recitals on sunday and not to forget to monitor her junk food intake. his hand clasps around your wrist to stop you.
"stay. i wanna talk to you."
"there's nothing to talk about."
"are you dating him?" he's straightforward, watching the muscle in his jaw clench.
"that's none of your business."
"i have a right to know who's around my daughter. yes or no? or are you just fuckin' him?"
"why?" you yank your arm away, getting in his face, barely with your height. "does it hurt your feelings? well, guess karmas a bitch."
sukuna chuckles darkly, raising his arm to tug at his bi-colored hair with frustration. "man, you're still on that shit."
you raise your brow with fury. he's shitting me. "on that . . . are you fucking serious? you tellin' me i don't have a reason to say fuck you for cheating on me?"
"all she did was suck my dick, you're acting like i was in her shit," he rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulder with zero care in the world. "i've apologized a million times. it was one stupid night where we were at each other's throats and she just so happened to be around . . so."
"you know what." you scoff, not having time for this stupid shit. men always have bullshit excuses when trying to justify cheating. you didn't care if he kissed the bitch, cheating is cheating. you managed to bypass him, walking around the couch until he was back in your face fast once again.
you clenched your keys in your fists, ready to claw at his face with them. "what do you want?"
it's silent for a moment, the hard stare he has on you makes you feel small, folding your arms over your midsection, waiting for his response.
"i need some pussy," he whispers gravelly, slowly licking his lips and grabbing at your waist. you swallow, trying to ignore the sudden throbbing at your clit. chill out.
"text your other bitch. i'm sure she'll give it to you."
"only your sweet fuckin' pussy," now his hands are smoothing to your backside, smacking his heavy, veiny palm on your ass to draw you closer, squeezing the flesh between his long fingers. you gasp, eyes wide as you feel the outline of his dick against your stomach. his fingers are dangerously close to your pussy. "daddy misses it so much."
you inhale, shifting to try your best and break from his barricade, shoving him away which barely makes him stumble. "i'm leaving."
thinking this is your final attempt at actually leaving, that relief gets knocked down the instant his hand grabs the back of your neck and brings you back to him, his mouth pressed to the side of your neck where he breathes and kisses wetly. you freeze, the ache below never subsiding in his hold. sukuna's lifting your skirt before another word falls from your pretty little mouth, shoving his hand into your matching white lace, smirking from the ocean flowing on his thick fingers.
"you need some dick, don't you?" he whispers hotly behind your earlobe, rushing his tongue there at the same time he circles your clit, falling back into his warm chest, dropping your keys altogether. "he not hitting it right? doesn't do it like me, does he?"
shamelessly, you nod your head in agreement, giving up because you know he's right and this is what you need. you know he can give you things no other man could. it hasn't been the same ever since. any man you've been with aside from him hasn't met up to those standards. sukuna raised your pussy to only come back to him. trained to accommodate him. cum from him. fuck him. for any other man to take possession of what he crafted would be fucking fowl.
"you miss me?" sukuna hums, walking you both towards the black couch in the living room you moved too far away from your previous escape. your knees are dented into the seat, arms thrown over the back as sukuna groans low in his throat, pupils blown with lust as he tugs your panties to sit at the middle of your thighs. he presses his clothed cock to you, grinding slowly to make you feel it, let you know how much he misses you more. "you miss daddy, baby?"
you keen, face buried into your forearms shyly, rocking back onto him, feeling yourself soak his pants. sukuna hisses and smacks your ass again, pussy clenching from the attack. you whine. "yes. miss you."
"daddy misses you too," he's swift with his actions, already tugging at his dick leaking absurd amounts of precum, circling the angry red tip on your entrance before sinking in only halfway, wanting you to remember how to take him. you moan quietly, biting at your arm and taking lead by pushing back onto him, only to have sukuna retract his hips.
"don't be greedy, you'll hurt yourself." it echoes in your head when he says this, smiling cutely, loving that he cared, unlike other men. and he's kind of right. he's perfectly thick, long to the point where it surpasses his belly button. it was always hard for you to fully wrap your hand around it, towering your face whenever he stood over you, veins decorating up the underside. he draws his hips back, carefully driving into you, rolling his waist effortlessly to make you savor every ridge of his cock.
"doesn't it feel so fuckin' good?" he asks with his lip tucked between his teeth, rolling his eyes back once he starts it up, hooking you by your handles and yanking you back as he fucks you, fascinated by the jelly-like bounce your ass makes as you throw it back.
his wife was always one to never hold back her sounds, whimpering and moaning to your hearts delight. sukuna has your back arched with his other palm, reaching behind yourself to clutch at his veiny forearm, the two of you locking eyes as you glare up at him to see him slowly losing it. so much pent-up sexual frustration from not having you for months. not being able to touch another woman since so it pisses him off to know you could easily fuck another man without feeling the same. he's getting mad just thinking about it, clenching his jaw tight as he fucked you harder, deeper. you're clawing at his arm and crying his name, sukuna coming to his senses momentarily, forgetting they had a daughter who's asleep upstairs.
he moves your hand away, entwining both his large palms over your mouth and pulling you back to his chest where your head rests, sukuna standing straight as your back dips even more, cursing as your eyes switch white and you sing into his hands shielding the sweet symphonic tones.
"you forgive me?" he breathes shakily on your forehead, ruts becoming sloppy when that familiar heat twitches in his gut. this he could excuse; cumming too fast just to brush off the burning arousal for you. he'd savor you later on when it truly mattered. he'd make love to you to prove that he still loves you, that he's different now, that he'd never fuck up a good thing again. right now, he just wanted to fuck you so you know he's not letting you leave anytime soon.
your brown eyes are slanted softly, whines and delicate nods of your head are what takes him there, dropping his hands from your mouth, choking you lightly as he mashed his mouth onto yours, moaning with you as you tremble and orgasm. he stays inside you a little longer, fearing that warmth would dissipate if he stayed out too long. sukuna swallows, catching his breath and darting his attention to the way his cum flows out of you after you fall forward, taking his index and middle finger to collect it and shove it back inside. you laugh at him with a silent 'fuck off' and smack his hand away. he grins happily, massaging your backside adoringly. this isn't a pass that you're going back to him. but having you in his presence as of now was a start he could be satisfied with.
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© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡
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brettanomycroft · 13 hours
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Sam fumbled Gwen’s Bonzo reveal… but he’d been primed to do so
I suspect that there's going to be a LOT of conversation around Sam after this episode, and since this episode was so good that I couldn't think of a meme or shitpost, I decided I'd throw my hat into the ring and do some character analysis instead. CW: Spoilers for The Magnus Protocol episode 18, "Solo Work" under the cut.
Episode 18 finally gave us the Sam and Gwen interaction I (and I think a lot of others) have been so desperate to finally see, and boy oh boy do I have Thoughts… none of which are new per se, but Sam’s reaction to Gwen dropping the Bonzo Bomb seems to have reinforced  the way I’ve been reading (and projecting in fanfiction oops) Sam, his personality, and his motivations.
Out of everyone new we’ve been introduced to so far, Sam has by far gotten the most explicit development and conversation around his personality. Even before episode 1, folks who participated in the ARG got a preview of our favorite baby shrimp’s personality through access to the child database spreadsheet that was, presumably, used to document the results of the experiments run on children participating in The Magnus Institute’s “gifted and talented program.” From this spreadsheet, we can gather that Baby Sam is logical, empathetic, works towards the benefit of others (prosocial), and fair… but also a rule follower and highly willing to follow the lead of an authority figure, even if it is in conflict with his personal views. The picture this information paints is an interesting one, but when taken in a vacuum leaves us with an impression of Sam as someone who is kind but lacking in backbone.
This idea of Sam as “kind but lacking in backbone” is further reinforced in canon, as Alice of multiple occasions rags on him for being “noodly” and “ickle fawn” and a “baby shrimp,” all seeming to highlight that Sam has the sort of helplessness about him typically ascribed to sopping wet kittens and baby birds. And I think that if we view Sam’s outburst when Gwen brings up Bonzo through this lens alone, it’s going to seem WAY out of character for him and a downright cruel response.
Now while I do believe that Sam is empathetic and fair and, sometimes, a little helpless, I’ve been inclined to believe from early on that much of Sam’s affable self-deprecation is a way to cover or soften what can be, at times, a tendency to be hard-headed, temperamental, a little manipulative, and petty (and I’m totally not just saying that as a people-pleaser-and-gifted-kid-in-recovery who has been projecting hard on Sam since Day 1). And it’s this second batch of personality traits, the ones that make Sam so real and interesting to me, that I think set up the disaster of a conversation between Sam and Gwen.
We have definitely seen hints of Sam’s hard-headedness and manipulative leanings in previous episodes: it comes out most often around Alice, showing his stubbornness in the form of refusing to give up his lines of questioning and curiosity about what is happening in the cases and at the OIAR; and revealing his willingness to manipulate a situation the form of subtly redirecting Alice’s focus away from prying into his crush on Celia and during the mocha incident (I have, of course, already explored Sam’s manipulative tendencies in my totally comprehensive shitpost).
And we’ve even been shown at times before episode 18 where Sam can be petty, his buzzed insistence that Alice try and keep things “professional” at work after his date with Celia being at the top of the list. The case headers filed for “Putting Down Roots” and “Pet Project” also suggest to me Sam’s ability to be stubborn and petty: in both instances, Alice and Gwen suggest a different classification than the one that Sam ultimately files. In the case of Gwen in “Pet Project,” she’s dismissive of him when he tries to ask if she’s all right.
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While there’s no way to know for sure, I interpret this interaction as part of the reason why Sam ultimately disregarded Gwen’s suggestion for how to file the case—she shut him down and shut him out, and the petty part of his heart couldn’t resist ignoring her recommendation out of spite. This scene also begins to lay the foundations for Sam and Gwen’s interactions in episode 18 and, I suspect, the rest of the season.
So with all of this in mind, let’s look at episode 18. When Gwen emerges from Lena’s office, Alice has just finished shutting Sam down, again. Throughout most of this season, Sam has been desperate for some validation that the cases they are listening to are real, that whatever happened to him at The Magnus Institute was real, and that him pursuing this line of questioning and wanting to find answers isn’t a waste of his time. Alice has, of course, been not-so-gently nudging him away from this line of thinking for most of the season, while Gwen has been icing him out about it up until this point. Just about the only one who has given his questioning any air has been Celia who is, conveniently, not there. Even after Alice has her very own supernatural experience that is reaffirmed in the case Sam receives, she strongly pushes back on his idea that they should investigate and pursue this further. He understands why she doesn’t want to learn more, but it’s clear that he’s still frustrated at the end of the conversation.
Enter Gwen. Here, for the first time, it seems like she’s opening up about what is going on at the OIAR, and Sam is immediately hooked, even dropping his softer and sympathetic side when Alice tries to redirect with one of her classic barbs.
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After being shut down time and time again, Sam is so eager for confirmation that there is more to all of this than meets the eye. And then Gwen says the B-word, and Sam loses it.
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Sam is laughing here, but honestly? I think he’s angry, and his reaction is one of complete disbelief that Gwen would set him up like this just to, in his mind, take the piss out of him. He thinks that, at best, Gwen is having a breakdown and he’s once again being shut out or, at worst, Gwen is making a joke at his expense. Now, he’s used to being the butt of a joke thanks to being friends with Alice, but despite that we’ve never heard him call her an asshole the way he does Gwen. Temperamental and petty, turning around his hurt and anger over being stonewalled again and again to lash out at Gwen with his joke.
And honestly, can you blame him? (I can’t.)
Of course this wasn’t the ideal reaction. I have been waiting for Sam and Gwen to have a serious heart-to-heart about what’s going on forever, and Sam pretty much blew that chance without even realizing it. And I would be surprised if we get an apology out of him anytime soon, not only because this interaction is likely to push Gwen away from wanting to even be around Sam, but also because he’s not going to believe that Gwen wasn’t making fun of him or that Gwen isn’t having a delusional breakdown until he sees Mr. Bonzo with his own two eyes.
I also think this conversation would have gone very differently had Celia been there instead of Alice. Sam’s slew of psychological testing suggests he’s willing to follow the leader, and in this case he doesn’t seem immune to Alice’s general dismissiveness of Gwen. He may have even been primed to lash out at Gwen in this moment because Alice is constantly ragging on her; chameleon-like, he’ll take on the shade of the strongest personality when he’s on uncertain or dangerous footing. It’s almost a guarantee that Celia would have taken Gwen seriously, not only because she’s likely from or connected to the TMA-verse of horrors, but also because it was Celia who received the first Mr. Bonzo case. And had Celia been there to temper the disbelief, Sam would have absolutely been ready to hear Gwen out in full. I honestly cannot wait for Celia to be back in office; she’s going to walk in to these new, rancid office vibes like Troy from Community walking into the whole room on fire while casually carrying the pizza.
So, what do I think this means for the rest of the season? Well, the title of this episode seems telling: Solo Work. Gwen and Sam’s respective desires for their experiences to be validated and their goals to be taken seriously paired with the seeming dismissiveness of those around them are going to push them along their separate paths, dangerously alone. And I suspect that it is only going to be Celia or, more likely, an encounter with Bonzo, that is going to put them back on the same path—if it happens at all. Good luck, babes!
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barcaatthemoon · 2 days
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Could you do one for Lia with this prompt please.
“I could have anyone I want yet… Yet you fucking exist.” 
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reputation || lia walti x reader ||
it was easier to be a player than let yourself fall in love again. that was what you had been telling yourself for years, and for a while, it had worked. you went from club to club on loans and transfers. at each club, you had several flings, to the point of earning yourself a startling reputation.
everybody always knew who you were before you got to any new clubs. there was a good chance that no matter where you went, you had an ex or a friend of an ex on the team. it was pure luck that you managed to find a team willing to overlook the things that people said about you. especially one as big as arsenal.
it was your first long-term contract in over seven years. each season brought on a new club, occasionally two. arsenal was very clear about keeping you on their team. you were a talented player, and they wouldn't let rumors ruin the absurd amount of money they had paid for you. it was more than what you had made anywhere else, all for the promise that you'd behave yourself.
"is it true?" katie mccabe asked as she dropped down into the seat next to you at lunch. the two of you knew each other from briefly playing with each other in scotland. you liked her, especially the way that she played things aggressively. it was hell when you were opposite to each other, but you respected it anyway. "did you really, um, get around like that in perth?"
"come on mccabe, aren't you above the rumor mill?" katie shied away a bit, but not completely. you knew that she easily could have asked around. a lot of the girls you had slept with in australia knew caitlin and steph. there had been a brief thing with caitlin whenever the two of you had been on the same team before she came to arsenal.
"come on, nobody else is saying anything. this just isn't what i expected when you joined." katie tried not to let her disappointment show through, but it did.
"well, maybe she's changed," lia piped in. you hadn't even noticed her approach the two of you. she was always around whenever one of the girls tried to probe you about your past relations and interactions with other players. it was obvious with a few girls who you had slept with, especially in the wsl.
"lia, i'm not saying (y/n) isn't different now. i just want to know if she really got around as much as they say," katie said. at this, lia slapped the irishwoman on the back of her head. you stifled a laugh as katie finally left the two of you alone.
"they aren't this bad with other people, i swear," lia promised you. you knew that, most people weren't. you seemed to bring it out in most people, but lia had never asked you about your past. that was one of the reasons that you had fallen for her, even though you swore that you would never fall in love again.
"it's fine. you get used to it after a while. i think that you're different though, which is nice. thank you for that," you told her. lia blushed as she grabbed onto your hand. outside of work, the two of you had been spending a lot of time together. lia lived pretty close to your apartment, so you had a good excuse to always hang out. lately, things had been shifting a bit from friendly to romantic. it wasn't much, just small gestures, but it was enough for you.
"sometimes i do wonder why you haven't found a girl yet. i mean, you could have anybody you wanted if you tried," lia said. she had heard several of the girls talk about hooking up with you. not to mention the night she spent comforting leah whenever you rejected your captain's offer for dinner and drinks.
"i could have anyone i want, yet..." you trailed off as you pulled lia in close enough to whisper, "yet you fucking exist. i don't want to even think about anybody other than you. it's put a damper on my reputation, i think mccabe was disappointed."
"let her be, i like it when you're not just acting how everybody else wants you to. screw your reputation," lia said. she pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. there was a smile when she pulled back, but that was nothing compared to the look in her eyes. it should have made you want to run away, but you couldn't run from lia.
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venmondiese · 1 day
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Secret teamwork
a request from my lovely @slytherincursebreaker ♡ thank you so much!
Summary: Having a non-commited relationship with Aemond is hard, but as you find yourself pregnant, it might just be harder.
✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, MENTIONS OF ABORTION, p in v sex, pregnant sex, dom and sub undertones, fingering, boss/secretary adventure, slight degradation kink, slight praise kink. ✧Word Count: 6.02k
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Aemond placed his own hand around your mouth, to keep your little squeals and moans away. Your pencil skirt all the way up to your hips, it was almost funny, as Aemond kept you seated atop of one of the broken tables in the storage room of the building. 
“A-Aemond!” You press your hands on his chest, moving the hand on your mouth. “You are… going to be late!” You whine.
“Let them wait” he says softly, his hand pressing against your mouth as his right hand is between your legs, tormenting you as he likes.
He is knuckles deep in your pussy, and he watches your expression as you mewl, holding on his shoulders for dear life. This is probably one of the things he enjoys most in life; tormenting you to his delight. Having you drool and moan like a wanton whore, and how your cheeks get red from the effort to be quiet. 
Your pussy might be one of his favourite things, how warm and wet it is for him. Gives him a sense of power as he knows that he can have you melting on his arms just by fingering you. 
He knows the effort you put to look nice, your face of makeup, your hairstyle, your little outfit. He loves to mess it all up. If it wasn’t for the presentation with affiliates of the company of his family, he’d probably be fucking you with no problem.
But he cannot risk not being presentable as he is the main speaker during the conference. He has a lot of things to explain, and he prefers not risking his image. 
“Shh, shh, moaning like the little whore you are” he says, smirking, as he tries not to allow any little scream to get out loudly. “Come on, baby, delight me. Cum on my fingers” he says, saying sweet nothings in your ear along with it. 
Your big nervous eyes, looking at him as he covers your mouth, is a sight that he doesn’t want to forget, truly.
He is hard, and he hates how he can’t do anything about it. He just looks at you and tries to give you all the pleasure he can’t get. 
“Wanna show me your little moans, baby?” He asks as you nod, and he can picture your pout as your eyebrows go up in a needy way. 
You feel his thumb, going in circles around your clit. It is probably the most delightful thing he does, because it is always precise and pleasurable, as if he has perfected his technique to be at its very best.
Your grip on his shoulders, as he liberates your mouth from his palm, and you let out a sob of pleasure, trying not to scream so loudly, because if you did so, it was over for you and him.
He relishes himself in the little moans and whimpers, in the way your pussy clenches around his three fingers, and he kisses your lips; his hand on the back of your neck is firm, keeping you in place as he kisses and plays with your tongue. 
“Open your mouth” he whispers, and you look up to him, knowing exactly what he is up to. 
You love how he can dominate you so easily. Most men had to make an effort to try to look dominant. Aemond had it naturally. 
He spits on your mouth, making sure to look at you as it falls on your tongue, and the way your pussy clenches as you swallow.
Gods, you are soaking wet. He knows you are close by how loudly your wet pussy sounds as he fingers you, and the little mewls you let out as you press your forehead on his shoulder lets him know that you are losing composure, and your legs are becoming numb.
“I need it, you know that… Give me good luck, baby…” he says softly, and as you let out a loud moan, your thighs squeezing his hand, he leans down to capture your lips on his.
He knows how you need tenderness after cumming. You are prone to become sensible, and more these days, when you always need reassurance. 
He kisses you, sloppy and a bit urged, but not too messy. His tongue makes its own way on your mouth, and he can feel how you are trying to keep up as you let out a muffled loud moan, and he can feel how your walls involve his fingers as you cum.
As you rest your forehead on his shoulder, he takes his fingers out, just to suck them to enjoy your taste, even if it is just a bit. It drives him wild, but he has to restrain himself and nothing makes him more frustrated. 
He rubs your back, as you pant loudly, holding the edge of the broken table, which luckily didn’t break further. He moves to watch the hour on his expensive clock, and he still has twenty five minutes to arrive. He sighs, knowing that he cannot put it on hold any longer.
“We have to go” he says softly, and you whine, not wanting to. 
He moves a bit back, and you let your head fall down as you try to relax your breathing. He makes you lean slightly back, your hands hesitantly going back on the table to hold your weight. 
He moves your panties, which he moved and made sure they remained on the side, so it doesn’t bother his work. He places himself between your legs, as he looks down and both of his hands move to accommodate your panties gently, without a hurry. His fingers tentatively caress your clit, but don't press their luck. 
“Come on. We can go to the bathroom and get presentable again” he whispers, grabbing your hand, pulling you to your feet. 
The heels you wear are probably uncomfortable, and he sighs, suppressing the urge to roll his eye. He pulls down your carefully ironed pencil skirt, and he tries to make it presentable again. 
“You didn’t bring other heels?” He asks softly.
“No” you murmurs, looking at him with tired eyes.
“Gods, woman.” He says rolling his eye “I am going to start to buy you comfortable shoes and leave them in my office, so you don’t have to wear those things”
“It is protocol” you say looking at him, as he takes your purse and hangs it on your shoulder.
“I am the boss. If I want you to walk around naked or in pyjamas, it is my call to make” he states softly, and he leans to kiss your cheek lovingly. “Come on” 
He grabs your hand, and you follow him quietly, as he makes sure no one is around as you two walk, hand in hand to the bathroom.
He goes into the men’s bathroom and you to the opposite.
He is quite meticulous, and so your appearance isn’t messy or ruined. If something, you look exhausted. You reapply your red lipstick, and put a bit more mascara. Not too much, you don’t wanna look vulgar either.  
You place some loose hairs back into position, and accommodate your clothes again. You sigh, looking at yourself in the mirror.
The secretary and her boss. You think, as you press your lips together, nibbling the inside of your mouth. 
Once you go out, Aemond was outside waiting for you, using his phone to probably answer some texts. 
“Ready” you say, and he looks flawless once again. If he had an erection, there is no trace of it. He is truly surprising, like a little box of mysteries.
“Let’s go then” he says as he looks at you, hesitating before walking away and pressing the elevator button.
The way to the auditorium is silent. He checks his phone, and you check the little agenda where you write down everything he has to do. 
“Westeros' investors group will be here” you remind him. “And so will the Yi Ti’s empresarial boss, as you know…”
“Uh huh” he agrees. “Will my half sister…?”
“Yes. Rhaenyra will make her appearance as the heir of…”
“Don’t”
So you don’t. “Edyr Karstark will be as well” as the lift doors open, he walks out and you follow him. “Coryanne Dayne and Morgan Martell as well, from Dorne…”
You walk with him as he stops, and you see his mother and grandfather waiting for him at the door. 
Aemond looks at them, sighing. He turns to you, and you have to take a moment to move your gaze away from them.
You see the posture of Alicent straighten as she looks at you, as if squinting her eyes slightly. She holds her arms, her green dress is elegant and she looks intimidating. Otto Hightower makes no effort to hide his disgust, and he looks at you as if his eyes could throw daggers at you.
“Don’t mind them” he whispers to you “They just…”
“Hate me” you finish for him, accepting the fact.
“They… It’s just complicated”
“I am the whore who lies with my boss for his money.” You say the words that his family thinks but never say out loud. 
“You are not… You are more than that” he says softly. 
You walk behind him, as he goes to greet them. You always follow him everywhere, most of the time. You take care of the tiny details of his work life that he didn't care about. Learning names in meetings, learning the interest of the people to help him. Reminding him of his busy schedule.
“Aemond” his mother greets him, a kiss on both sides of his cheeks.
You two becoming closer was just natural, you’d told your friends. You two were single, and you spent more time with him than in your own home. And otherwise. 
It was not long ago when his sister and brother found out about you two, and so his mother knew naturally, and so did his father, grandfather, half sister… It scared you to death.
Alicent had talked to you about quitting, how easier it would be than a scandal. You never could realise if she was saying this from the goodness of her heart or to keep you away from his prestigious son. 
Otto Hightower was more direct, as he presented you with a letter of dismissal, which Aemond had to defend you. It was embarrassing, but you just… liked him, to endure his odd family.
“Hello, miss” Alicent says, and Otto greets you as well. You force a smile, and nod a quick greeting to her. “They are all waiting for you” she murmurs, and looks at him. “Your father has come for this, as well”
“Ah” he says, you can see how his mouth turns down in disgust. 
“It is well prepared” Otto adds “It is fine work. If your project is approved, those months in Yi Ti will be all for you” 
You look at your hands at the reminder. You won’t be going along, and it was a bit odd. On purpose, if even. But you have never said it outloud, less to Aemond, because it was truly an amazing project.
 “If you could bring me a glass of water…?” He asks you, and you nod. 
You walk to the presentation table, looking at the people around, chatting and greeting, no one really watches you. You take some of the bottles and pour it down in a glass for him, walking to the door, as you almost stumble against Alicent and Otto. 
“I wanted to thank you” Alicent says, and you stop a bit confused, looking at her. “He wouldn’t have done it so smoothly. You two do a great teamwork” 
It is half a compliment, you guess. She is trying, at least to be cordial. “Thank you”
You are quick to escape, and you watch Aemond at the door waiting for you. He doesn't seem too nervous, he never reveals his feelings so easily.
“Thank you” he says, in a softer voice. Drinking a bit of water, leaning out to see the people inside “I’ll remember those names you said. Any particular… thing you recommend me to say?”
You look at him, and say “Well, a greeting is much more welcomed than just starting speaking.” He looks back at you, and he nods softly “And look at them in the eyes”
“It is them who don’t see me in the eye.” He says trying to be funny.
“I am serious” your lips curl up, and add “Don’t be nervous. No one here knows more about it than you. And try not to fight” 
“You know me too well, for my disgrace” he says smiling. “How do you feel about that great bonus in your next check?” He asks slightly amused.
“Feels like the Gods have take mercy on my soul” 
You move to take a little lint on his shoulder, dangerously close in public. He isn’t one for public displays of affection, less with you. 
Perhaps that’s why his mother and family disapproved more than if you two were something. You were his secretary, and him your boss. Not partners, no compromise. 
It makes you anxious, sometimes. How could you even ask him? Not that he would take advantage of his power position over you. It wasn’t about asking your boss what exactly you two were. It was about asking him, Aemond Targaryen, what he truly felt about you. 
You could find another job, but you couldn’t find another him, another Aemond. 
“You’ll do fine. I made sure there is water, and those mint sweets” you tell him. “The control of the presentation is ready, and there are no cables for you to stumble on. The table is seated so your blind spot doesn’t face the public. It is rotated so you can read the presentation as well, so don’t worry.” 
Aemond looks at you, looking inside for a moment before wrapping one arm around your body, pulling you both out of sight as he leans to kiss you passionately, for a few seconds.
You kiss him back, if anything a bit surprised about his bold action. As he pulls away, he is quick to recomposture himself, and smirk. 
“I don’t have lipstick on?” 
“No…”
“Good” he says with a smirk. “Go and take a seat. You have earned it” 
With that, he walks inside. You blink, a bit flustered and surprised. When you look inside, you see Alicent Hightower watching you, all tense up, sitting next to her husband, who is talking to Rhaenyra. She saw you. 
You were about to be sick. You turn around as a gag comes out of you, covering your mouth, yet you don’t feel the disgusting feeling of something coming up your throat. Perhaps because you have not eaten anything today.
You try to act normally, as you walk to sit at the side of the window, looking at the cars in the street passing by, as you hear how the conference is to start. 
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“Where is he, again?” 
 “Probably Yi Ti right now” you say, sitting on the kitchen counter as Amanda prepares the lasagna. 
“And he got funds for this? Like his rich family couldn’t just… allow him to borrow money?”
“Doesn’t work like that” you say amused. 
“Ha. I know” Amanda says, chuckling. She was one of your ex coworkers, and you used to have lunch with her everyday, before she quit for a better job. “How is he?”
“In what sense?” you ask, looking at your margarita yet you haven’t drink any of it yet, too occupied in the chatting.
“Happy, I mean. I don’t think I have ever seen him… Happy. Or smile. Have you?”
“Yeah” you say smiling at how silly that question is. “Duh.” You say rolling your eyes. 
Amanda turns on the furnace as she waits for it to get a bit hot before putting the lasagna, and she looks at you. 
“And did his family was there? His mum? The Alicent Hightower?”
“All of them. Viserys, Alicent, Otto, even Rhaenyra. Helaena went for moral support” you say chuckling. 
“And what about the mistress?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes.
“Alys Rivers?” You ask her. “I think she was there…”
You try to shrug it off, but it boils your blood the thought of her. More with her story with Aemond, how intimate they had been. It makes you gag.
“Oh, it burns you from the inside!” She giggles, and she places the lasagna inside the oven. “Is the Margarita good? I haven’t tried it…” she asks, moving across the kitchen to take a sip. 
“I will try it…” you say, moving your straw around, and you are hit by the hard scent of alcohol.
“It is good for a drink bought in the supermarket, you know? I waited for…”
“I am going to throw up” you say standing up from the seat, as you make your way to the bathroom of her house.
Aemond has been gone for maybe two weeks at this point, and you keep on gagging at smells, of any disgusting kind. There were only four things you relished on; the smell of the mints that Aemond liked, gasoline, hot dogs and coffee. 
Throwing up is not nice; the first time is because of the sickness, and the rest is purely out of disgust for the vomit. 
You wash your mouth, and try not to leave her bathroom with the scent. Once you come back, you see that Jasper, her fianceé, has arrived.
“Are you okay?” Amanda asks, as she walks over to you. “You love Margaritas, are you not sick? Oh! Is that restaurant where you went with Aemond to the triumph meal?” 
He made you accompany him, with his family and associates, to a dinner that his grandsire organised, in an expensive restaurant, after the triumph of having his project accepted and founded. You vomited all the food at night, probably because of the lobster. 
“It was over two weeks ago” you say, shaking your head. “I always get sick when I am about to get my period. Being irregular has its disadvantages ” 
“Oh, I get that feeling” she chuckles, going back to the kitchen as her finaceé is drinking her margarita.
You stand still for a few moments, and you realise the possibility. Probably the reality, as you had all the symptoms... it made total sense, and you stood frozen as you realised.
You were pregnant.
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It is two months later when Aemond comes back. Half of his project has been completed, a total success. But his business in Yi Ti was more than done, and the oriental atmosphere was too much for a Westerosi man like him. 
He was not surprised with your resignation letter as he came back to the office, which was why you wouldn’t answer any of his texts or calls. Three weeks into his journey, he got your resignation letter, accepted by his grandsire, which only needed his signature. 
He called, and called. And nothing. You probably ghosted him, and he called Helaena to check on you. He didn’t trust his mother or grandsire. 
According to his sister, you just needed to let go of some things of the past as you realised you had more ambitions than being a secretary. 
On Friday, he is in your apartment. The building was old, and it had barely four floors, and you lived at the end of it. He has stayed in your apartment once or twice, but mostly he just passed when he dropped you off.
Luckily, he comes at the time where the old lady of the first floor is getting inside with all the supermarket bags.
“Let me help you” Aemond says as the lady is struggling between managing the heavy bags and opening the door. 
“Oh, thank you, young lad” the woman says, as he takes all the bags from her arms. He enters first, and waits for her to walk, very slowly.
The woman opens the second glass door to enter the building, and she stops at the mailbox, checking for her apartment number.
“You want me to grab yours too?” The sweet lady asks, and Aemond hesitates.
“Uh, sure. Thank you” he says, and in the silence he realises he has to say the number “41” he remembers the number of your apartment, and the lady grabs the mail for today. 
They make an exchange, where he leaves the bags in her house, and she gives him the mail. She is sweet and Aemond has a smile as he has to go all the way up to the fifth floor. 
He is not one to spy, but you have a lot of mail. Mostly about some subscriptions you made, he is curious to see if you have anything from your new job. 
He stops, mid stairs as he watches the pink envelope.  A woman’s choice. 
He hesitates a bit, before he pulls out his phone. He remembers that. Helaena and Rhaenyra both made a contribution for that clinic, didn’t they? It was the woman’s building of the hospital in Visenya’s Hill. He walks slowly upstairs, he is midway the third floor, as he walks up slowly. 
He searches for the name of the clinic, and he hates how bad the signal is. He sees the three dots moving, loading the page slowly. 
His stomach drops as he reads. Pregnancy termination clinic.
He doesn’t understand anything. 
He stands frozen, with phone on one hand as he holds the envelope behind. His mind is racing. He knows you are not subscribed to it just because. He hasn’t heard in months about you, and he doesn’t know what to conclude about this information. 
It feels an eternity before he knocks on your door. Once. Twice. Nothing.
He doesn’t hear the wood crack under your weight. It was painfully obvious when someone stepped on it, he remembers one time when he dropped you at your house, drunk, and you both laughed at how silly it sounded at every step you both took. 
He missed you, he realises. Scratch that. He knew that he missed you, but not that much for his heart to ache like that at the memory. He misses you. He feels incomplete. 
You open the door, obviously expecting anyone but him. 
You are wearing a black hoodie, using a face mask, probably orange scented. You always made sure to be well looking  in the sense that you took care of your appearance. 
You look different. He blinks slowly, as he looks at you, frozen in his place. He isn’t normally so stiff, he is usually more straightforward, a man of business. 
“Aem– Mr. Targaryen” you say, a bit surprised. The way you refer to him stings.“You are back. To what I owe the pleasure?” 
It is at the same time that you realise that he was holding your mail, as his eye trails down to your hidden stomach. Your clothes are too big to realise, which only makes him more confused, and suspicious. He can’t see anything to confirm, but it is unusual, you don't like to wear these kinds of clothes.
“You… quit” he says, dumbfounded.
“Yes. Nothing personal” you say tapping your fingers on the door. You were anxious. “I am sorry if it came at a bad time.”
He looks at you, as the lie comes naturally to you. 
“Can I come in?” 
Your place is a bit messier. He knows something is up. You move your hands to take off that stupid face mask, and your face is all shiny from it.
“I am not really… I was not expecting… visitors”
He was more than a visitor, and you knew it. You missed him. He looks as handsome as you remembered. You didn’t go to the airport, but you kissed him farewell in his office. 
“Are you… pregnant?” 
You blink at your boss. At your something. At your baby daddy. At Aemond Targaryen.
He can see the little panic in your eyes, and he lets a scared sigh. He covers his mouth as he looks at the side.
“I should have been with you” he says regretfully, and his heart feels at the floor. “I was away, and you…. You should have been so…” he doesn’t know if it is useful to say it, it was probably traumatic to you. “Forgive me. If there is anything…”
You hear his heartbroken words, still holding the door as you blink. “ thank you…” 
“We are still a team” he says, looking at you. “We… we always had been. I would have dropped everything to be with you at that moment” 
He looks at you, so calm and collected. He feels like losing his mind, and he feels pure guilt. He wants to ask you. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you? He knows it is selfish to ask, but it was also his mistake. He would have helped you, held your hand and all of it. He would have been prepared, read about it, to comfort you in the grief, all of it.
“And forgive me for… spying on your mail, I just wanted to see if you had a new job…” he says, extending the mail, embarrassed and vulnerable. You have never seen him like this, it is almost scary.
You take the mail, and you see the pink envelope first, among the white ones. It was atop, and you looked at him.
“Maybe you should get inside” you say, moving to let him in. 
He sits on the couch, and you sit by his side. The silence was crushing, and so you speak.
“I should have told you..”
“I understand-”
“Let me speak” you say, and he shuts up. He looks at you, and you keep talking. “I… I didn’t get an abortion, Aemond” you say softly, looking at him, at how his expression changes, trying to get the words in. 
“What?”
“I just… It was an option. I was… I was scared. I am still, a bit. But… I want this baby” you admit softly, not looking directly at him, as you so shyly admit your feelings to him.
He is confused. “You… You didn’t?”
“No…”
He leans back on the couch, breathing hard at the realisation. He might faint, he has gone through many emotions in little time.
“So you are…”
“Still pregnant. Very much” you confirm, and he lets out a sigh. “And… you are the father”
Aemond bites his lips on the inside of his mouth, and he looks at the ceiling, passing a hand over his face. 
“Oh” 
“Yeah…” you say, at how stiff he is. “Three months and a half.” 
As you stand to grab your wallet, he thinks. Three months and a half back, it was probably the time when he had so much work left, that he fucked you in his office. Or was it the time where you two fucked over the cabin? 
“Here” you say showing him the ecography picture. 
In the middle of the black part of the ecography, he could see the curled up little figure. He looks at it, as if it would disappear if he moved his gaze away. It is wonderfully diminutive, yet it fills him with pride, seeing something so little that makes him feel so many things. 
He missed it. It was the most important ultrasound, and he missed it. He wasn’t there to hold your hand either, when you took all the exams to determine any genetic syndrome. He should have been, right at your side, to be part of it as well.
“It is… wonderful” he says, with a small chuckle. “You think, I could… get a copy?”
It is the subtle confirmation that you didn’t expect. He wanted this, as you did. You never talked about having kids, less so when you were never anything serious. 
“Keep it” you say softly. “I already took like hundreds of copies, you can keep it.” 
It is a surprise that he sobs, and he looks at the image. 
“You… Oh, gods..” he says, feeling utterly hopeless as he watches the little paper. He is going to be a dad, it was so… odd. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have left..”
“I didn’t either” you say. 
He looks at the image, he doesn’t even cry on purpose, just some tears falling naturally. His thumb moves to caress the paper, as if it was a soothe for him and the baby.
“You quit, how are you… affording all of…?” He makes a gesture. Everything, he wants to say, but he doesn’t want to be invasive.
“I have a part time job at a friend’s coffee shop.” You say with a nod “And a fair bit of savings” 
He looks at you, shaking his head as he feels his tears dry. He was thinking so many things. He is going to be a dad. He has not contributed anything. He has to take care of you. And the baby. He has to help you. He was going to be a dad.
“you shouldn’t have quit. It was a stable, good paid job, and the office has great maternity leaves.” 
“And would they give me more months because my boss is my baby daddy?” You ask, not from malice, but he bites his lip.
“They told you to quit, didn’t they?”
“Nobody told me” you assure him.
“They paid you.” 
“They didn’t. I wouldn’t have accepted it”
“Why didn’t you tell me, then?” He asks, almost heartbroken.
You look at him, nervous, and you don’t dare to look him in the eye. “I did the maths, Aemond. You didn’t seem the type to… you know. Compromise” 
He looks at you. It was right. He wasn’t one to show his emotions. It was probably the first time someone saw him cry, since he was like twelve, and he always made sure to keep a distance between him and the rest.
“I am not.” He says softly, looking at the image, and he sighs. “But… you and I are a family” he says, licking his lips. “and we will always be a family, with… them” he adds, pointing with a tilt to the ecography.
It is a haunting truth, that you knew. You’ll always be bound to Aemond. A scary thought. 
“We will. But I want to know, what are we?” You finally ask him. Decisively, you need to know. 
“You have my body and soul” He admits softly, and he bites his lip. “Both of you. I am committed to you two…, always. Always, of course. There is no one else I want, that I choose.”
You truly don’t know how or when you end up in his lap, kissing softly as he holds you on it. It is different from his dominant demeanour. 
He is almost rewarding you with caresses and kisses, holding you gently. He would do anything you ask him to, and he is so afraid to lose you two. He almost did, both of you, and he doesn’t want it to happen ever. 
He holds you as if you were fragile, and to this moment you are; he holds both of his most precious things, and you carry his baby.
“I am not going to break” you say against his mouth, pressing a little tighter. “I need you” you add, your hot breath on his mouth as his hands presses in your back.
“I need you too” he admits, as he accommodates on the sofa to hold you. “Here or on the bed?” 
“Wherever…”
The bed it is.
He held you all the way there, which was not a long way either, but it is good to be in your bedroom, where it smells like you, and some strange mint scent that reminds him of the mints he eats.
“Look at you, baby” he says as he takes off your clothes, eagerly, and desperate. “So beautiful as always, dripping wet for me” he says, and you blush slightly from his compliments. “aren’t you?”
“yes. i am”
“how am i even going to go on with my work when you are not there to indulge me a bit?” He asks, as he is the one to desperately take off his clothes, as you lean against the pillows, watching him. “When the idea of leaning you on my desk was enough to make me finish all of it quickly, and call you to my office.” 
He accommodates behind you, both of you laying as he kisses your shoulder, and then your nape, and leaves soft love bites, not meant to last long.
“But now you’ll just wait for me at home, hm? In my own bed, all for me” he says and you search his lips and share a sloppy, messy and wet kiss, needy and primal. 
You missed him. You needed him. 
The pregnancy hormones drove you insane. And missing Aemond was something your little babe was sure to make you feel it at all times. 
“Yes, yes, I need you inside” you feel his hand, moving to wrap your waist, and he moves behind you, holding your leg with his other hand. 
He cannot wait to see you heavily pregnant. You have a little belly, which is adorable. He supposes that, as he was, the baby will be small too. 
But he craves for when you’ll need his help to do anything. And he’ll delight himself in it.
“you missed me?”
“So much” you turn your head, for your arm to be around his neck. It is probably a twisted position, but he is not one to complain. 
His lips capture yours as his cock finally slides into you, you moan against his mouth, and his grip on your body tightens a bit. He is going insane.
He is ruthless at every thrust he gives you, and you surely are more tender at each movement of his cock in your pussy. The time apart, or your hormones, he didn’t care, as he immerses himself in pleasure. 
“So big” you moan against his mouth, and his hot breath hits your mouth as well. “I love it”
“I love you too” he says, his face nuzzling your cheek as he doesn’t think too much about what he just said, and just focuses on the way your cunt clenched around him, warm and soaked, a very warm welcome.
He holds you as precious as you were to him, but firmly, tightly. His hips swing as his cock moved and makes it’s way in your pussy, the little way his cock throbs inside, leaking the precum inside. 
“You already marked me. Everyone will know that i am yours– so fucking yours…”
The thought makes him moan. He always loved that, making you go out of his office full of hickeys and love bites, sending you back to your desk all flustered and shaky.
“Hm, you love that, don’t you? They can’t fuck you like I do” he adds smugly, as he presses open mouthed kisses on your neck.
You moan as his fingers search your clit, and are quick to find it, and he groans at how receptive you have become.
“I’ll fuck you so hard, baby. So, so hard” he promises, for the future. For now, he just needs you. “Such a good girl. Always a good girl” 
The way you squirm, and your whimpers drive him into release as well. Your legs always do that thing that he knows very fondly, they shake and your muscles tense up when you are cumming, in a very certain way. It is almost always the same, and he has grew to find it endearing, everytime he fucks you he waits for that moment. 
He thinks he is much simpler, he holds you closer to him, as if forcing you to remain there, as his balls tighten and he cocks throbs before cumming deep inside. He lets out a loud groan, rolling his eye back as he holds you. 
The way you two remain naked, yet laying together it is something he never does usually. With you, a few times. He always tends to you, and made sure you were relaxed. But you never did pillowtalk after it, you usually were exhausted and he was tired too. 
“You know what? It is almost unfair” he says, moving to search his pants.
“Oh?” You ask curiously, as your eyes follow his frame. You don't get what he means exactly, but you wait for him to elaborate.
“I brought you a present. Well, I brought two things–” he finds it in his pocket and extends it to you, and you smile upon the realisation.
“oh, Aemond…” you say looking at the bracelet, and you smile at him. “It must have been… so expensive”
“It is your favourite colour” He points out “Isn't it?”
You nod, as he moves to leave it in your nightstand, just to pull you closer to him. 
“You have given me more… expensive gift” he adds, moving to your side again, and he wraps his arm around your waist, leaving one of his hand to rest atop of your belly, firm and growing. “Thank you”
You see the gratitude in his eye, and you smile softly. “Well, to be fair it is a product of very extensive teamwork…”  
“It truly is, hm?” He asks, smiling as he moves to your side again. “We truly do make an remarkable team”
384 notes · View notes
fremedon · 2 days
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Back in 2014, I did a panel at CON.TXT on dubious consent tropes: sex pollen, fuck or die, omegaverse, and so on. And we talked about how the same tropes can carry different kinds of narrative weight, and how the ways they're used have evolved over time--how tropes that started out as a way to get around the rape culture assumption that Nice Girls Don't were repurposed to interrogate rape culture. By making the coercion external to all parties to the sex act--by removing culpability--they allow for rape and rape culture stories without rapists.
And I proposed that a lot of these tropes were also coming to be used in ways that read as allegories for the impossibility of resisting the conditions of late capitalism. A character is placed under complete social or biological constraint, with no power to escape or fight or do anything but submit, and their only choice is whether to submit gracefully or make a token and futile resistance. And that their decision to make the experience something they want--to claim whatever good they can in it--is an act of power. That to consent, even internally, and make it meaningful, even when they have no way to enforce a refusal, is an act of power.
Because it was a panel on dubcon, and saying Yes is what differentiates dubcon from noncon, in fiction, we talked mostly about stories where the protagonist says Yes; we talked about these consent tropes as allegories for the ways that people do, in fact, find good in conditions they cannot opt out of. People do build good relationships under rape culture. They build communities under late capitalism. These things do happen, outside of fiction, and a story about someone reconciling to life as an omega can have a lot to say about the complicated internal struggles people go through to make them happen.
We didn't talk so much about the flip side of these tropes--that by making that internal Yes meaningful, even in circumstances where No has no power, they also imply that there is meaning in No, even where it has no effect. They validate the worth of an internal resistance, even where it achieves nothing. Maybe we mentioned it? I don't even remember--it was a panel on dubcon, not noncon, and that internal No has the power to change the genre, if nothing else.
I am thinking now, though, about the rise within fandom of a purity culture that strenuously rejects these tropes--while also granting them remarkable power. That claims that, because real life does not have the distinction possible in fiction between dubious consent and nonconsent, that not only is fictional dubcon no different from fictional rape, it's no different from real rape. That returns culpability to these stories and places it firmly with the author. That says that a fictional character cannot consent, to anything--and that the real author, being the only person involved with actual moral agency, owes it to the character to keep them safe.
To exercise moral choice on their behalf.
To say No, in the fictional world where that No is meaningful, and to imbue that No with an irresistible moral weight in the real world.
At any rate I'm not saying the crowd that thinks not voting to withhold their consent from things done in their name is somehow a meaningful form of protest just needs to read some sex pollen about it. But I'm not not saying that.
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loversmantra · 1 day
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FREE FALLIN' LOVE ADDICT!
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synopsis. satoru's fingers look their best soaking wet.
content. gojo satoru x cisfem!reader. smut. minors do not interact. lowkey... househusband satoru and his working wife. making out. fingering. cum eating. drooling. size difference. not explicitly stated but this definitely reads as sub!satoru. foul language. "gojo satoru has the biggest praise kink in existence," i say from the top of my hill. he's kinda pathetic in this tbh but so am i so it's fine.
title from poplar st by glass animals
wc. 2.3k
message from noe. this started as something very different, very wholesome... then it became this. i was fighting demons. sorry. also this is lowkey my first time doing smut be nice to me pls. anyways @neptuneblue dis one is for you twiiin
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satoru’s hands are much bigger than yours.
you’ve known this for a long time, of course. as a teen, he never missed an opportunity to remind you you were smaller than him: whether that be by holding something out of your reach or using that creature of an appendage to cover your entire face and muffle your complaints.
he didn’t outgrow his antics. his hands did, however, get even bigger.
but it’s one thing to know, to have the theoretic knowledge of it in the back of your mind. it’s another to have indisputable proof of it: his huge hand wrapped around your own, both warming it and dwarfing it.
satoru’s had his hands on you since the day you first met. rough, teasing — and later loving. soft. and you’re thinking about them a lot these days. you’re thinking of his hands everywhere.
his longs fingers wrapped around your throat. snug around your waist, tight on your hips. deep inside you. you’re thinking about it, a lot.
the wonderful contrast of cherry red flush on his cheeks, down his neck, down his heaving chest. the heat of his breath on your lips, crazed, feverish, delirious. wide smile, all teeth, as he puts his fingers on his tongue and sucks. baby blues rolling back, away from the conscious world and into something he keeps on a tight, tight leash. he’s so beautiful when he gets like this. you want him.
you’re thinking about it so much, these days. you’re thinking about him.
you’re thinking today might be the boiling point.
you’re thinking satoru looks way too good in this outfit… and his hand is just so much bigger than yours.
your workday ended with a text from your beloved, urging you to hurry home, because he had a lil’ surprise for you. knowing satoru, you were fully expecting to find him laying on the bed naked and oiled up, but the sight you were greeted with when you arrived home was very different — though no less delectable.
the "surprise" itself: satoru in the kitchen, preparing dinner for you. he turned to face you when the door closed softly.
and while this might seem strange to anyone — anyone except you — when paired with his text telling you to hurry, you knew exactly where his intentions lied. you’ve been experiencing him long enough.
he wanted to seduce you. and fuck him, it worked.
not like you needed much help there: you’ve been thinking about jumping his bones, among other things, twenty-four seven, for days. you’re wrapped around his finger. head over heels. thoroughly whipped.
but to be fair, who could blame you?
briefly, you pondered. how wonderful it is, you thought, to have this man taking care you after a long day. how wonderful it is, to be loved by such a cosmic being. to come home and find the house clean. to come home and smell dinner cooking.
you pondered — but not for long. something else drew your attention away from his loving acts of service.
black slacks stretched around his toned legs, glorious ass on full display — you could have bitten him right there. his pristine white shirt was tight on his torso, showing off his rippling muscles as he expertly chopped vegetables. his sleeves — struggling to keep his biceps in check, it almost seemed — were rolled up to his elbows. displaying his hands and forearms perfectly. damn him.
to top it all off: an apron tight around his slim waist. picture perfect househusband.
he looked good. good enough to eat.
and you could tell he thought the same of you in your tailored suit. you saw his eyes darken from all the way across the room.
this was all part of his plan, of course.
he smiled. washed his hands, didn’t wipe away the droplets. he raked his eyes all over you, dark, wanting.
“hi, baby,” he purred.
you took off your shoes hastily, hurried to his side, pushed him against the counter and pushed your lips against his…
…to end up here, dress shirt wide open, tongue down his throat, arms pinned to the kitchen island by his large, large hands. his poor apron forgotten across the room.
there isn’t an inch of free space between the two of you — satoru simply refuses to let you drift away. you can feel his impatience all over him, little whines escaping his lips that you drink eagerly, narrow hips pressed to the furniture as if to give himself relief. you won’t have it, you refuse. his relief will be you or nothing.
“how was your day, satoru?” you smile against him.
he returns it, body shivering at his name falling from your lips. his hot mouth trails down to your shoulder, to leave no part of you untouched, untasted. “missed you,” he whispers with a push of his hips against you.
“hm, is that it?”
a hand leaves yours to flatten on your belly — he pushes you down easily and takes his rightful place, right on top of you. white hair tickles your skin as he makes his way back up until… “yeah,” he grins, eyes so dark you can barely breathe. his smile is all teeth. “that’s it.”
without your permission your thighs move to rub against one another. it doesn’t escape him. you try to turn your head away, to flee from his teasing. he follows. he always does.
“look at me, pretty,” he bites into your neck. “you want something from me?”
you do — you want his fingers knuckles deep inside you. and the absolute best part is, you know how bad he wants it, too, to see you come undone with his touch. you see it, you feel it in his every move. the need.
you feel it in the tight grip his hand has on your own, on your waist to keep you pressed against the marble. in the very, very slight tremor of his thighs close to yours, kept tightly under his control. in the tensing, untensing of his every muscle — restraint he’s giving his all to maintain. in the glorious pink of his cheeks, the sweat already accumulating on his flawless skin. he wants it. he wants you to ask for it.
but your satoru’s been quite spoiled lately. he’s gotten used to getting his way every time, little prince. it wouldn’t hurt him to work for it. you want to make him work for it.
you don’t answer him. instead, you keep him busy with your tongue tracing his lips, one hand trailing your nails down the soft hair of his undercut — earning you another full body shiver — while with the other you unbuckle your belt on your own.
it’s easy, after that, to shove your hand under your panties. satoru pushes himself off you, to better watch.
you make a show of it, just for him. making sure to really coat your fingers with your slick. two tight circles on your clit aren’t enough to relieve the pressure, but you trust him to come around and take care of it — he’s so good at taking care of you. you throw your head back with a soft whine, arch yourself into him, and in the hot air you share with him your hand comes back up, fingers glistening.
he looks jealous. already, he’s moving — moving to take your hand in his and taste — but you won’t have it. before he can do anything about it, you pop your fingers into your mouth, sucking yourself off them.
satoru’s eyebrows knit briefly, but his smile widens. his breaths are reduced to pathetic, shallow pants. if you push him a little more, will you get him drooling, tongue hanging out like a puppy? you bet you could. but today isn’t the day to find out. you want his fucking fingers.
he doesn’t let you think about it any longer. “can i?” he rasps, leaning down. his tongue runs over his teeth.
you don’t think about it. you nod your head, and he dives.
licking into your mouth desperately, moaning like he's having the time of his life. it’s so easy to meet him halfway, to suck his tongue in your mouth, to swallow all his little whimpers — so good, baby, fuck — you want it all, so you take it all.
he only stops to rest against your mouth and whine, “you taste so good, i wish you could eat yourself out.”
he catches you completely off guard. you have no answer to that, so brilliantly, you say, “huh?”
he noses at your cheek and explains, “i want to eat your cum straight from your mouth.”
and that’s enough of that — you’ve run out of patience. you think you’ve wrecked him enough, in any case, to hear such things spewing out of his mouth. you feel him throbbing. you are, too.
“can’t have that, angel,” you pant against him. “but you can make me cum.”
you can feel his smile. “i thought you’d never ask.”
his fingers slide down your body, under your pants, taking the same route yours did. only it’s much harder for him — they’re much bigger.
satoru wastes no time. the stretch is immediate, big finger pushing into you slowly. your hand knitted in his hair tugs him down to you. his moan is even louder than yours.
he stays there for a moment, savoring it, licking at your lips, your neck, the underside of your jaw — moaning like an animal in heat, like he could cry from the relief your hot walls hugging his fingers bring.
cherry red on his cheeks, down his neck and the glimpse of his heaving chest his shirt gives you. hot pants fanning your lips. crazed. feverish. delirious. wide smile, canines glimmering in the light. oh, you’ve been waiting for this. you want more of him, you need more of him. your hands move against your will, almost tearing open his clothing. a huff of laughter warms your cheek.
but your love is as impatient as you.
a second finger pumps into you, slow and steady. you mewl, and with your encouragement satoru rises on his elbow to increase the pace.
“feel good, sweetheart?” he pants.
you couldn’t keep quiet if you tried.
“yeah,” you smile. “i feel fucking good.”
then you sink your teeth straight into his neck and delight at the wild buck of his hips, the sinful cry he gifts you.
his entire body moves with him. his hips grind into you, shameless, desperate, following his hand’s movement — and so does his tongue, fucking into your mouth like he wants you everywhere, wants to be inside you everywhere, wants to bury himself into you. drool drops down his chin. you drink it.
every beautiful sound that comes from him, every whimper, every harsh breath, every high-pitched moan is rewarded with a soft murmur of yours — so good, angel, so good for me, so good! his pace increases, his bicep is bulging, his back tenses, his eyes cross, he’s so close, you’ve got him right where you want him.
the pressure in your lower belly grows stronger with every expert stroke. he touches everywhere, a tender caress pumped into you by the strengths of his arm and pelvis together. mimicked perfectly by his tongue tugging at your lips, stroking your own, invading your mouth. you feel it grow, grow, until—
you come undone right there on his hand, in your pants, with a loud cry of his name, digging his nails into his shoulders — in retaliation, and partly to stave of his own orgasm, you’re sure of it, his bites the soft flesh of your neck, a wail dying in the back of his throat.
you come down together, chests rising and falling against one another, hot breaths warming the air around you. he’s still throbbing against your thighs, fingers slowed to shallow thrusting, as if he couldn’t bear to let the moment end just yet. you force him to still by smothering his hand with your thighs.
satoru makes his way back to your lips, leaving behind a trail of wet kisses and a singular bite on your cheek, one you answer with a giggle.
“that was a good one, baby,” he says against your mouth. “how many more can i give you?”
“depends. how many more can you take?”
he doesn’t answer. instead, he smiles. his hand resurfaces from your underwear, soaked, glistening. he takes a moment to rub his fingers together, admire the slick, the feel of it all over his skin. you take the time he gives you to admire him.
he’s so beautiful, when he gets like this.
his hand rises, heading for his face. your gut clenches, thighs rubbing together in anticipation, a deep breath filling your lungs—
his tongue lolls out and his soaked fingers come to take their rightful place right onto it. his lips close around his hand. his cheeks hollow as he sucks.
baby blues rolling to the back of his head, satoru trembles, wracked with a full body shudder and a moan so sinfully loud you swear it echoes against the walls. his throbbing cock rubs on your thigh.
he allows himself one, two, three finger-deep thrusts into his mouth, practically fucking himself, gagging on his own hand, putting on the most wonderful show for you. just to make sure there’s not a droplet left.
then his fingers leave his mouth with a loud pop! and he looks back down at you. crazed. feverish. delirious. eyes so dark you can barely breathe.
looking good enough to eat.
later on, after a lot more cum from both parties and a well-deserved bath, you rush into the kitchen, praying your apartment isn’t about to burn down. satoru was, after all, supposed to be making you dinner.
when you lean over the countertops, you find that the stove was never on.
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LOVERSMANTRA © 2024, all rights reserved. do not translate, crosspost, or copy. steal my work and i'll steal your kneecaps. bitch.
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bouquetface · 2 days
Text
PAC: Next Serious Relationship
I will be detailed asf. This reading won’t be for everyone. Only take as entertainment.
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One.
Your next partner:
Curly dark hair, tanned skinned (this person could be mixed or appear racially ambiguous). Age 28-30. Either from somewhere sunny or currently resides somewhere sunny. Nonchalant. Aqua & Scorpio placements.
General reading. Not every reading you come across will resonate. I will not try to appeal to everyone. Just giving honest reads.
Your relationship story:
This won't be love at first sight. This person has a bad reputation. They aren't a cheater but they have spent their twenties messing around. Before you meet, they'll be sick of this bachelor lifestyle. They have many options but they don't trust any of them. They can't imagine a future with them. They fantasize about you a lot before meeting. Their ideal partner, the future you'll have together. They would never admit this to anyone around them but they feel lonely. They miss you before having met you. All this yearning makes me think you have past lives together.
When you meet, it'll likely be through mutual friends. You could be invited to some kind of networking event. Or possibly it's just a party. Very busy place. So many talking you almost can’t hear the people you're talking with. The group you come with will get along with their group. You’ll see each other and their friend group again at future events.
I'll be honest their intentions at the start aren't the best. They'll be the one to add you on social media. They think you're hot and want to add you to their roster. You'll find them attractive but only want to keep them as friend due to their reputation. You could intuitively know or be warned by a friend. You likely will only hang out in a group the first few times. They'll be bummed out, they haven't been friendzoned ever. It'll actually make them suspicious that you like someone else in your mutual social circle.
This is a slow burn relationship. Trust has to be built before you even seriously consider them as a partner. You don't take any shit. You want to be the one, not an option. They are really forced to work for your time. Like when they ask to hang, you aren’t responding yes immediately. If it’s late at night, you’ll say no, I have work in the morning. Or simply no, it’s late. You aren’t stupid, you know there’s no pure reason for someone to be hitting you up at night like this. Slowly but surely, they’ll realize you are the one they’ve been daydreaming about. This will make them get their act together. They will be proving themselves to you. They see you’re an honest, hardworking person. You could be very busy with college or work. They’ll have a lot of respect for this. Accommodating for your schedule, remembering little things you say about coworkers or professors. You’ll have a lot of inside jokes.
There is an element of surprise here. It’s hard to say what it is when it’s a surprise. They may surprise you by bringing you your favorite drink a few times. They may go research something you’re interested in which could surprise you. This surprise might be what makes you think they’re the one. They may hate that you made them wait so long, but trust me, this person needed that humbling. And it’ll be so worth it. Once they get you, all they’re focused on is keeping you.
⚠️ Warning though!! ⚠️
When you two go official, it's going to upset someone. This is where this pile is divided into two groups. For some, it could be a guy friend you have - he thought he had a chance. His attitude will change towards you when you enter this relationship. You'll tell your person but they won't give a fuck. They’re a confident & secure person. They may even laugh at the idea of this guy thinking he had a chance with you. Your friend will be hurt but move on. I don’t even see the friendship ending in this scenario. Once they meet their own person, all past crushes are forgotten.
Now for the other half of you. It’s not as simple of a situation. For some of you, it is a woman. She's been lurking in your person's past. She isn't an ex. But she is someone who was talking to your person. I did warn you that your person had a past. She thought when he was ready to settle down, he'd choose her. She's likely been hanging around for a year, if not YEARS. Oh, this is a bit sad. I'm hearing Jack Harlow's Lil Secret lmao. "'you confident that we soulmates". She really thought she was the one.
Your person is going to cut off everyone he was talking to when you two get serious. She'll be furious. Then, she’ll be in denial. Likely stalking both your socials for months. She thinks you two won’t last. She is convinced that your person is going to come back for her. Embarrassing.
This won't affect the relationship at all though. You two are destined, you'll be protected from this woman. She’ll disappear after a few months. She is bitter. ngl it’s her fault for building up this idea in her head.
I asked for clarification on this woman. Your person did not promise this woman a relationship. They were honest to all their past hookups that they do NOT want a relationship. This woman is just delusional. But I don’t want to hate too much, a lot of people probably been in her situation before. And for most, she’s not batshit and will move on after a few weeks/months. However, some of you do need to be warned, this woman is a total bitch. Will start rumours/talk shit about you with her friends. She’ll get over it eventually. She has no choice lmao you and your person are a forever couple.
It’s honestly giving rockstar boyfriend. Not to imply that he is going to be a musician. This isn’t likely for most. But the fact he is desired by many and well connected in his city. Very passionate relationship. Major Scorpio vibes. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
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Two.
Your Next Partner:
Sag & Cap placements. Religious. Clean & polished style. Tall, Nice smile, blue eyes. Funny, polite & charming. May wear or like watches. Smells nice.
General reading. Not every reading you come across will resonate. I will not try to appeal to everyone. Just giving honest reads.
Your relationship story:
The feminine will be approached in public. This person is polite and straight forward. They may compliment you and ask for your number. Some of you could meet in an academic environment. After the lecture, they could approach you. For other’s, it could be while you run your usual errands.
Although, they’re very charming and respectful, you could be a bit suspicious. Maybe it is because you tell your friends or family, and they warn you. They’ll say it’s not normal for people to come up and ask you out anymore. They are coming from a place of concern. They’ll encourage you to set the date somewhere in a public setting and get their socials. This could stress you out a bit. However, once you get to know each other and meet each other’s friend groups, everyone is super supportive.
They are serious about you from the start. In a non-creep way, they may have been watching you for a while. They see you as a sweet and kind person. You could be very sensitive. They are a bit opposite. They do well under pressure. Their job could be one that requires them to do well under stress. Maybe law enforcement.
You could have something they believe you need protecting from. This could be a sour relationship you have or had. After a few weeks or months of dating, you may open about your past or family. Some of you had a bad relationship with your ex. It left you with low self esteem. For others, you have a family member that puts too much pressure on you. This could be a very controlling parent. This person will be very understanding, they may actually relate to having a tough parent. It’s not that they don’t love their parent though. This parent likely the father may be very tough on them. Your person could be the eldest. They likely grew up feeling responsible for a lot. Feeling like they need to be the perfect example for their younger siblings. & Feeling like they NEED to make their parent’s proud. This conversation will bring you two closer.
This relationship will feel like a blessing from God. If you aren’t religious, you may become open to the idea. Your person isn’t religious in an extreme orthodox way but faith is important to them. They may casually attend church. They definitely celebrate religious holidays. They will introduce you to their family very quickly. Maybe an event is coming up and they feel it’s the best opportunity to meet everyone. They don’t have a single doubt about you. To them you are their future spouse. They’re very confident about it. Their family will be very kind to you. They will feel you are a bit out of their league. You may be invited to an activity without your spouse. For example, if they have sisters, you could be to invited to a mother-daughter day out. Do your nails, go out for brunch, etc.
No relationship is perfect. But this is relationship is very close to perfect. You guys will likely do a lot of outdoor activities. Camping, beach day, road trip, etc. You create a lot of beautiful memories together. A lot of photos to show your kids.
Everyone will know you as the IT/Power couple. No one has any doubts that you’ll last forever. Friends of yours and theirs may come to you guys for relationship advice. They may tell you guys they wish they could have a relationship like yours. They aren’t jealous in an evil eye way though. They are truly supportive. Your friend’s are fed up with trying to find someone loyal and trustworthy. They’ll tell you dating is so difficult in this day and age. And these conversations will make you so grateful for having found your person. You guys will likely be the oldest relationship in your social circles. Not in age but as in you’ve been together the longest. So you may meet early on in your 20s. Soon, no one will be able to remember a time before you guys were together.
It’s giving Blake Lively & Ryan Reynolds vibes. 💗💗
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bigification · 2 days
Text
Beach Bears
The cold water felt good on my feet as the waves washed in and out. The sun warmed my skin as I stood at the edge of the beach. It was finally summer, the season where the ladies pull out their bikinis and I get to show off all the hard work I put into my abs over the winter. I finally got to wear my new orange speedo, it was a little big but the drawstring made it so it wouldn't fall down. It still showed off my ass well so I didn't care. I tried to convince my friend Leo to get a speedo too but he was hesitant. Although he did get a short pair of swim shorts, so he'll still be able to show off for the ladies.
"C'mon Leo, let's go already!" I yelled, waiting for my friend to join me in the water.
"Ya ya I'm coming!" He yelled back as he ran towards me.
We both slowly walked into the water together, it was cold but refreshing. We stopped just as the water reached our upper thigh, working up the courage to go deeper. In the meantime, I looked around to see if we had any catches nearby.
"Bingo!" I said to Leo as I tapped his shoulder. "Right there. Red bikinis." I pointed at two ladies swimming nearby.
"Slow down man, they're like ten years older than us. No way they want us around." Leo hesitated.
"Dude, were like almost 20, were basically adults. Just follow my lead." I said as I dragged towards the two women.
"Hey ladies. Need company to keep you warm?" I said, trying to lower my voice to sound smooth.
The women looked at each other and giggled quietly. One of them slowly walked up to me and put her hand on my shoulder.
"Why don't you two go a little deeper. We're gonna get some sunscreen and we'll be right back." She said as she softly slid her hand down my arm. She then brushed her hand across my cheek and over my mouth. It left a sweet taste in my lips. I saw the other woman do the same to Leo as they started to swim back to the shore.
"Holy shit! Holy shit!" I said excitedly to Leo. He smiled back at me and we both went deeper to wait for the ladies to come back.
I laid on my back, floating on the surface of the water. My head was turning with all of the things I should say, or the things I should do when they come back. I didn't even notice myself mentally drifting away. It was getting harder to think, it was hard to tell how much time had passed. I felt comfortable as a warm sensation filled my body.
As I was floating, I turned my head to face Leo. It looked like he was mindlessly floating like I was, but something seemed off. His belly is sticking out a bit. At first it just looked like he took a big breath in, but then it never flattened back out to his normal abs. In fact it just kept growing. It swelled until it looked like he ate a basketball. I could even see fat love handles spilling over his waist, acting as floating devices for his growing body. I should have been terrified, or at least curious about what was happening but something about it felt normal.
I continued to watch Leo change, I felt mesmerized and paralyzed at the same time. His flat pecs grew into a pair of strong but soft pecs that complemented his gut. His once skinny and defined arms ballooned into strong biceps, and thick man hands. His legs and his ass plumped a lot too, making it look like his swim shorts were about to burst. Even his feet looked like they grew six sizes.
I started to feel butterflies in my stomach. Like the feeling I get when I look at a hot woman, but I couldn't take my eyes off Leo. Finally, I watched his lovely hair fall out, leaving a bald head behind. Then his clean shaven face quickly grew a thick and bushy beard that covered the double chin that had formed under his face. His features seemed to roughen up, giving him the appearance of a tough man in his late thirties.
As I stared at Leo, I noticed I was struggling to stay afloat. My body was sinking and my head was barely above water. I usually have no trouble floating, why is my body sinking like a rock all of a sudden. I go to stand up, and something doesn't feel right. I could even touch the bottom before, now the water only reaches my chest when I stand up straight. I looked down, feeling the scruff of my beard rub against my chest. Wait... I don't have a beard, why do I have a beard. When I looked down, I noticed my chest sticking out much further than it usually does. My pecs were thick and padded, and my stomach had a thick layer of muscle but it was hidden under a layer of fat. My arms were massive, It made me feel so strong. My biceps were so thick that I had to spread my arms so they don't rub against my sides. My hands had gotten so thick, I felt like I could grip a basketball with one hand.
I started to walk towards Leo, as my mind began to feel less foggy. My memories started to come back to me. I had to stop and undo the strap on my speedo, because it felt like it was squeezing me to death. I think I'll need a new one anyway, this one felt like it was crushing my dick with every step. It also shocked me how much I had to spread my legs while walking, leg day has been paying off with these thick thighs but man is it annoying sometimes.
"Wake up, babe." I said to Leo as I shook him. He snorted a bit before jumping awake. "You look so cute when you wake up." I said as I leaned in for a kiss. I loved the fuzzy feeling of his beard rubbing against my lips. He always asks me if I'm okay with him growing out his beard but I'm always adamant that I love it, I don't think I'll ever let him shave it off.
I saw his cheeks turn a bit red from the compliment. He was always so easily flattered.
"We should go back and put on some sunscreen before you burn your head again." I said as I dragged him back to the shore.
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I grabbed his hand as we got to the shore, Leo always had trouble with his balance with the waves hitting his feet. His balance gets worse the bigger his belly gets, not that I mind his belly though. I've made sure to feed him well ever since we started dating. That metabolism of his will give out one day and it'll be easier for me to fatten him up.
As we got to the beach, I heard a couple of girls giggling nearby. "You guys are so cute together!" One of them yelled out. Leo blushed and looked away, and I just gave them a wink as we walked back to our beach towels.
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Note
Hey there!
Saw your requests were open (if it isnt,just ignore this)
But i just love your satoru x reader and co parenting megumi????and i would KILL to see like, something bad happening to reader (like a mission going wrong,she passing out or getting sick or all) and boys just panicking cause satoru loves reader,and megumi sees her as his mother???
Sorry,im a sucker for hurt/comfort trope
Lots of love!!! you're amazing!
aww this is so cute, thank you for the request anon <3 wrote it as sick fic instead of injury since i,,,, have written like 3 things with that trope recently so let's do a fluffy sick fic instead lol. hope you like it :))
cw/tags: established relationship (pet names babe, baby, sweetheart), gn!reader, some explicit language, mention of eating
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"the kid thinks you're gonna die," your boyfriend says as he enters your room, setting a grocery bag on your desk and digging around for the bottle of orange juice. "you're starting to worry me too, honestly."
"i'm not gonna die, babe; i think it's just the flu," you groan, propping yourself on an elbow and attempting to sit up. you're unsuccessful, the throbbing in your head and the chills in your arms too overwhelming. you fall back against the pillow with a less-than-ceremonial thump. satoru crouches in front of you, eyebrows drawn and forehead wrinkled in concern. he pulls down his blindfold and you're met with the bright blue eyes you loved so much.
"yep. looks like you're dying soon," he declares with a curt nod and you scoff, a chuckle turning into an aggressive fit of coughing. satoru is lightning-quick, grabbing a new bottle of water and snapping off the cap before holding it up to your lips. "here, drink." you push his hands away, wordlessly insisting that you can drink on your own while still hacking relentlessly. "nuh-uh, just let me help you." with a frown, you let him tilt the bottle toward you and take a few careful sips. "you are frustratingly stubborn," he sighs.
"i have to be if i need to deal with you all the time," you joke hoarsely, sips of water becoming gulps.
"yeah, but you love me for it," he finishes and you agree with a shrug. "easy, there," he warns as you keep downing the water. "don't want you choking again."
"i'm fine, satoru."
"you've been working yourself too much, you know."
"hypocrite," you counter and he frowns, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. you were right, even though he didn't want to admit it. satoru was always the first one to say that someone was working too hard, just to take the burden for himself. it was a red flag, you said a few weeks ago over convenience store sushi; you also noted his 'concerningly inflated ego, lack of spatial awareness, and general disinterest in things that could be momentarily unpleasant.' you'd finished it, though, with a long-winded comment about how his red flags, in all their scarlet glory, made satoru himself. maybe it was just his melodrama, but he'd cut off his hand if it meant you were able to joke like that again.
"i'm serious. i think your body's shutting down because-"
"because i've been away too long, i know. i don't need a lecture right now, satoru." you swallow the last of the water and settle back onto your pillow, grumbling when you feel the side of your bed sink with your boyfriend's weight. "baby, you're gonna get sick, too."
"that means i get to take a day or two off," he points out, fitting his face into the divot between your shoulder and neck. despite your complaints, he throws off the comforter and replaces the blankets with his arms. "don't grrrr me, babe. you need to burn off your fever and i run warmer than any of these sheets."
"aren't i sweaty and stinky and yucky? how can you be touching me when i'm all gross?"
"you mean, how can i love on you right now when you're just being a human?"
"mhmm. you don't find it gross?"
"of course not, sweetheart," he reassures you with a kiss to your shoulder. "i'd be a real dickhead if i only loved you when you were feeling 100%."
"yeah, you're only half a dickhead for other reasons," you murmur into the pillowcase and he laughs, the sound reverberating against your back. before your eyes settle shut, you catch the door of your room opening and vaguely make out a messy head of black hair peeking around the corner. "megs?"
"oi, adults only," the other occupant of the bed threatens, pulling you closer and attempting to flip you to your other side to face him. you unbuckle satoru from around you, though, and manage to sit up. megumi pads carefully into the room, like you'd crumble into sand if his steps were too loud. "come in, i guess," your boyfriend says dramatically with a wave of his hand.
"satoru, i swear-"
"sorry, baby. shutting up." satoru flops back onto your bed and you reach out to megumi, who stares at your hand for a moment before rushing into your arms. "hey, megs. since you're here, you mind grabbing me a soda from the breakroom?"
"i thought you were shutting up, satoru," you remind him, voice poisonously sweet. he echoes your reminder in a mockingly high-pitched voice. "i'm gonna kick you out of my room if you don't stop, mister."
"you wouldn't dare," he gasps.
"oh, i would."
"yeah," he concedes. "you definitely would, but i love you for it." with satoru temporarily placated, you return your attention to the small child in your arms.
"you doing okay, megs?" he nods, eyes shut against your chest and holding you tight. "i'm not gonna die, buddy. i promise." you rub your hand up and down his back, combing your fingers through his hair when you're abruptly swung backward onto the bed. "jeez, satoru, what are you-"
"get the kid, it's nap time," he mumbles with finality, resecuring his body around yours and motioning for megumi to climb in. he does, and you drift off sandwiched between your boys, feeling a little lighter for the first time in days.
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raainberry · 2 days
Text
compliments to the chef
Momo x gn!reader
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synopsis - momo falls for her new chef’s flavor🤭 (she’s the sole heiress of the Hirai culinary empire and hiring you spices things up a lot more than she intended.)
wordcount - 14K (please don’t say damn when you see the price)
T/W - kinda chaebol!momo - chef!reader - mentions of food, knifes etc… - nothing violent tho - slowburn? but make it angsty? - light cussing - you lowkey hate each other but not really - enemies to lovers? - guest starring bc that’s fun - that’s all i can think of, tell me if i missed anything
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Momo sent a polite smile to the man sitting across from her. The fourteenth in the past half hour.
She’s been keeping count, along with the minutes, the grains of rice left on her plate, and the amount of times he’s mentioned one of his accomplishments.
Thirty-three, seventy-eight, and six; in that order. Only two questions about her so far, one if you remove the one about her name.
She almost left right then and there, but the respect she had for her mother weighed her down on that chair. If she wasn’t going to take over the family empire, the least she could do was find a worthy successor.
A soft sigh escaped her as she pushed her food around. Being an only child was way more fun when all it meant was that she didn’t have to share it with anyone. Or get it stolen, according to the venting of her friends when younger.
She finished the few bites left, trying to drown out the sound of his voice by focusing on the flavours. She closes her eyes, appreciating their delicate yet bold dancing on the tip of her tongue.
Maybe it was the boredom clinging onto whatever could keep her mind entertained, but the taste reminded her of herself. A small smile spread across her lips, the first real one of the day.
The next one came when the man asked for the bill. Her lungs could finally grasp the air around her, her nose picking up on the different notes and aromas of the dishes around her.
She sent her compliments to the chef, adding to them a generous tip she had no idea who’s pockets it’d really land in. It’s the thought that counts.
Her senses were in heaven walking out, engraving her mind with a memory that will stick longer than the guy who’d just made her split the bill, unevenly that is.
“Let me take you home.” He said once out front. His hand held the door open to the leather seats of a luxurious car she was too familiar with.
“Oh, no it’s fine thank you.” She declined quickly. “I actually have a meeting scheduled right after this.”
“I can drop you off.”
Momo almost laughed. She found his use of the personal pronoun very funny. She almost forgot he would just be sitting near her some more while the chauffeur did the sexiest part. If the latter were to her taste, she’d have driven off with her.
“I’d rather not.” She declined. “Business confidentiality and whatnot.”
The lie was forced through an awkward smile that he found endearing enough not to question. Relief washed over her when he finally let go of her, climbing into the car, but not without asking her to keep in touch.
Another sigh, a heavy one, loaded with all those she’d held back until now as she watched the car drive away. The pressure was off, but only for a second as her thoughts soon spiraled.
No way she had to do this again… She reached in her purse, looking for the one thing that could get her out of here.
All this junk, where is it—
“You’re awful at lying.”
Her phone almost dropped to its death from the startle you gave her.
Momo had a few questions at the sight of you. Your presence and your eavesdropping were the first, but the white apron half folded around your waist and the cigarette in your hand answered most of them.
“What,” was all she managed to say though, and a smile pulled on your lips.
“I mean, I’m not fond of lies, but when you’re famous for turning your back on business, you should probably come up with a better excuse.”
“Who even are you?”
“Right, I guess that’s fair. I’m Y/n. You’re Momo, right? Hirai?”
“Y-Yeah.” Her eyes squinted, desperately trying to see what you were leading to.
Your name sounded as unfamiliar as you looked, but you seemed well informed. She didn’t like that.
“Nice to meet you,” You greeted simply, eyeing the contrast between her features and the neat clothes on her back, “So how bad was it? You look… Worn out.”
Her chuckle was distasteful, and she tried to suppress its bitterness at the reminder of her lost time. “Awful. The food caught my eye more than he could ever hope.”
You smiled, “He wasn’t bad looking.”
“But he was a bore.” She argued. “Borderline narcissistic too.”
“Deal breaker then?” You guessed, turning her laughter a little sweeter.
“Pretty much.” Her gaze found the ground in a nod before focusing back on you. “I do like it better when it’s a two way conversation.”
“Does that make me cute?”
She scoffed at the brazen question. “You wish.”
“I don’t.” You dropped your cigarette on the ground, stepping on it in a way she found more hot than revolting to her surprise. That cheeky smile of yours was most likely to blame. “Thank you for the compliments by the way. I’m glad you liked it.”
Your bow was quick, desultory out of rehearsed respectfulness. As much as you appreciated her compliments, you had better things to do in the kitchen that could get you some more.
You caught a glimpse of her jaw dropping on your way back in, and it was enough of a sight to revel in for a few days.
It took Momo a couple weeks to pick her jaw back up and swallow her pride. It seemed as though the latter was the only thing she inherited from her family, and she managed to set herself apart yet again.
Her parents would have never set foot in your restaurant again. Not that you had lacked respect or anything, but the fact that you managed to set her off balance… Something about it she didn’t particularly like.
Why was she back then?
You asked yourself that same question when you stormed out of the kitchen at her request. If it weren’t for your manager and his speech about image and reputation, you never would have allowed her to interrupt you and abandon your brigade mid-shift.
Hands on your hips, dragging your feet, you walked into the office she awaited you in and felt your voice die down on your tongue at the sight.
Beauty or surprise, either way it came down to her presence.
The way her hair fell down her back, delicate and blending in with the fabric of her perfectly tailored shirt. The sleek black attire formed a shadow, painting a hole cut against her silhouette and into the spring she admired in the sakura tree out the bay window.
“Hi.” She smiled, her voice a fitting melody to the sights now behind her. Enchanting, sure, but odd.
She wasn’t exactly known to be a warm one to strangers. More power to her, you could understand that. But why didn’t it apply to you?
If it weren’t for the stories associated with that voice suddenly popping into your mind, she’d have lured you in. Nothing too bad about them; only testaments of her success. Rumors about the danger surrounding her, setting her apart from her family. You didn’t care for the big industry names, but theirs always had you curious.
“You asked for me?” Your voice rang in the quiet space.
Momo didn’t seem to notice your apprehension, her smile ever so welcoming, “I did.”
It felt as though she owned the place for a second.
“Do you have some more compliments?” You wondered, eyes following her figure as she went to take a seat in the armchair across your manager’s desk.
“I do actually.” She turned the seat to face you as she mused, “That black cod was to die for.”
You nodded, thankful. “Glad you liked it.”
As much as you didn’t like the way her family capitalized on the food you took such care to value, you couldn’t deny their expertise. Even if not a lot to you, Momo’s compliment did mean something.
“But that’s not all.” Her voice pulled your eyes back on her.
You found her posture quite imposing, matching her tone, but her infamous shyness was something she never got around to master. Her gaze held yours but it lacked control.
It was hard to ignore how endearing the attempt looked to you. It just made you want to give her whatever she wanted. Reward her efforts.
“What is it?” You wondered, curious.
What could she possibly want from you? This restaurant wasn’t yours. The only thing you had control over was the kitchen.
“I want you to cook for me.” She said, and you didn’t leave room for a breath before responding, “Excuse me?”
“I meant I’d like to hire you.” She clarified, a smirk dancing on her lips at your transparent thoughts. You tried to make sense of her proposal, but she didn’t waste any time in providing details. “I’m sure you’re familiar—the annual Hirai banquet my mother holds for shareholders. I never cared for the specifics, but I want to do good by her. I haven’t been the best daughter lately so I thought I’d make it up to her by holding it this year.”
It all clicked at the mention of her mother. Of course she wouldn’t be back with her own motives.
The Hirai Culinary Group was an empire. A home to the most prestigious restaurants of the country. All housing different specialties, techniques and themes… Quite a whole lot to manage yet the quality remained flawless. Fifty years of irreproachable cuisine, you could only respect it. If only they didn’t care about business so much…
Those banquets were popular, talk of the town within the industry as it usually set the next trends and whatnot. Make no mistakes, you were tuned in as well. They did bring in some interesting elements, but you hated the way they set it all up. A disguised year-end performance meeting. White collars expecting numbers and being served them on gold plates, horizons and growth perspectives hidden in desserts.
“So she’s actually the one that asked for me.” You smirked, unexpecting of the way she’d wipe it off just a second later.
“No.” She said simply, a serene smile gracing her lips. “Why would she know about you?”
You scoffed. Good point. You could recognize that despite the blow to your ego.
“Fair enough.” You nodded. “But why should I help you?”
“Help me?” She repeated, a hint of offense creeping into her whole being. “I’m offering you to work with me.”
Perhaps she wasn’t that much of an ugly duckling among the Hirai’s.
“My question still stands. Why should I?”
A silence followed your words, hanging low over your heads and expecting the next ones to come out of her. Hopefully they’d be good enough.
Momo’s gaze suddenly drifted from yours, finding interest in her surroundings. A few details she’d noticed earlier, various frames highlighting the establishment’s foundations. She could count three of them : its history, the owner and visibly the most important—you.
“Are you happy here?” She finally spoke, tearing her eyes away from your latest reward.
“I am.”
“I’m sure you are,” she remarked, tone striking a nerve. “Highest rank, valued both within and outside—you’re basically ruling the place…”
“What’s your point?” You asked, growing impatient.
“You’ve hit the ceiling, Y/n. It’s time for a new challenge, don’t you think?”
Silence enveloped you again as you found yourself contemplating her proposition.
Momo took the sight as a sign of her job being done here, and you watched as she left her business card on the desk before gracefully excusing herself; leaving you to deal with your internal struggle.
In the days that followed, her offer continued to linger in your thoughts, and with each passing day, the idea of a new challenge began to take root in your mind.
It spread enough to takeover a good portion of it, sending it all elsewhere. Far enough for your closest friend here and sous-chef to notice.
“What’s up with you, you’ve been all over the place lately.” Jeongyeon asked after you nearly knocked an nth plate to the floor.
“Nothing, I’m fine.” You met her gaze and it was enough to backtrack on your words “Okay, fine there is something, but… I don’t know it’s pointless.”
The empty pot you were carrying resonated as you put it back into its designated place, partially covering Jeongyeon’s words. “Does it have to do with that Hirai girl?”
“How do you know?”
“It’s the only thing out of the ordinary enough to throw you off your game.” She chuckled, drying her hands on her apron.
Weird way to tell you to live a little more, but okay.
“So what did she say to you?” She sighed, leaning her back against the sink. “What even happened in the office, you never told us.”
“Well…” You trailed off, gettng that business card out of your back pocket. You handed it to her, and it took her a second to notice what it was.
“What are you waiting for?” She scoffed, causing your eyebrows to furrow together.
“What do you mean?”
“Whatever she proposed just accept it, Y/n”
You spotted a hint of annoyance in her voice, but you had trouble seeing if it was about you or Momo. She sure was scrubbing that counter pretty hard.
“Why?” You asked, watching as she practically polished that stainless steel by hand. Something bothered you, and it wasn’t her cleaning technique. “Are you not even gonna fight for me?”
Jeongyeon paused to look at you, catching the slight pout on your lips. Her own twisted along her features in disgust, teasing you, and you let out your first laugh of the day.
“I should be the one asking you that.” She pointed out. “The fact that you haven’t thrown that card as soon as she left tells me enough.”
“I was just thinking about it…” You admitted, only proving her point.
Jeongyeon chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re past the point of even considering it, I mean… You’ve been walking around with that business card glued to your ass for the past week, yet you haven’t told me a thing about it.”
“You think you know me so well.” You grimaced. It was playful, but part of you wanted to provoke her. You didn’t blame her for that small jab at you, but it did hurt to think she didn’t put turning your back on this place past you.
She did know you so well, though. That’s why she continued to argue her point.
“What is there to think about, y/n? The heiress of the most acclaimed and prestigious restaurant chain of the country is asking for you. No sane person would say no, never mind a chef!”
The sigh that pushed past your lips came as far back as your lungs.
“Would you say yes?” You hesitated after a while, but her answer was much faster. “With no remorse.”
“I mean, have you seen her?” She added and you laughed.
“Fine. I guess I’ll call her…” You picked up the card from the counter and stared at her name.
Well… It’s not like she had asked you to quit your job…
“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.”
“What?!”
Momo pulled the phone away from her ear at the sheer volume of your voice through the speaker. How unprofessional. Her eyes rolled soon after, once she registered what your reaction held and meant for her plans.
“Y/n, this isn’t some side hustle for your experience.” she sighed, “I’m offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. If this all goes well, you could become our youngest chef in history.”
A point was made. As much as you were cautious of her voice, it seemed you couldn’t do much about the way it managed to get to you. The words she used were ambitious, they spoke to you.
But she failed to measure just how ambitious you were.
“Why can’t I do both?” You finally asked, prompting a string of arguments being thrown to one another. A futile game of ping-pong you were determined to win, only irritating the woman at the other end of the line.
All this whining, it was like dealing with a child, and truthfully you felt like one. Asking for the best of both worlds seemed completely reasonable to you, so why wouldn’t she give it to you.
“Listen, you can’t give your all to something if your attention is split in two.” She said, losing the last bit of patience she managed to keep today. “You can’t expect to grow by splitting yourself in half, and if you think otherwise, then consider my proposal void.”
A small silence fell over the line. She made sense. She was right. So why couldn’t you bring yourself to accept it?
“If you actually stepped foot in a kitchen once in your life you’d know two isn’t even the minimum.” You scoffed.
Whatever you wanted to mean by that… even you didn’t know, but apparently it was worth thinking over as you heard Momo sigh.
The woman closed her eyes to think.
Why couldn’t you just say yes like everyone else she approached. Maybe she should have made you say it back in the office, use that pathetic confidence of yours against you.
Oh how easy you were to read and see through. Pushing buttons was so much easier when people stood in front of her.
That’s why she hated phone calls. How could she know what to say—oh.
The light bulb went off over her head.
Right… That pathetic confidence of yours.
“I’ll step in if you do.”
It shouldn’t have been so easy.
All it took was a half-genuine smile, and a simple promise to make things different this year with a focus on the culinary side of things. Sure, she had to admit to scouting the area in search of the most skilled and promising, which eventually lead her to your restaurant, and then… you. But it was all ego strokes. Child’s play.
Part of her was disappointed. She’d hoped for a little more resistance, a challenge promised by your initial tone and attitude towards her.
“Damn it!”
She should be more careful about what she wishes for… Momo sighed, expecting your face to peek in by the doorframe of the manager’s office, and it did just seconds later.
“Momo, it’s not working.”
“What isn’t?” She said, confused. Machinery’s top-notch, brigade is her best, there was no way anything would stop working out of nowhere.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing, just come and see.”
Momo stared at you, noticing a smile fighting to make its way onto your lips. She was apprehensive but followed you anyway.
You’d been working on a technical plate : a type of hybrid dish-dessert. An ambitious idea you’d prompted to Momo during one of the early meetings to work the menu out.
Only she had to make it an order. A boring one and near impossible to pull off. She wouldn’t listen, so you decided to show her.
As you led her to the kitchen, you couldn't help but start venting away about everything that went down since the last time she'd stepped foot in there, which was a day or two ago.
"So, first, the soufflé collapsed twice because someone—I won't name names, but it rhymes with 'intern’—forgot to preheat the oven."
Momo sighed internally. Why were you so fixated on every little mistake? Who cares about interns and their mistakes, that’s what they’re here for. She could excuse a non-preheated oven, but forgetting her birthday? Yeah, that Boo Seungkwan is definitely off the list. He had a good run, only regret was he was good with her dogs. And nice maybe.
"Then, the new mixer decided it wanted to be a blender, and let's not even talk about the chocolate ganache incident."
She nodded absently, her mind drifting to the text she received earlier from another potential suitor. The daughter of her family ‘s right hand man, Jihyo if she remembered correctly? The Park’s had a rocky history though, she took note to raise her guard on that one before your voice pulled her back.
"And of course, the sugar sculpture? Total disaster."
Momo glanced at you, wondering if you realized how whiny you sounded. She had bigger fish to fry than a failed sugar sculpture, like figuring out if she even wanted to leave this family business. If it meant she had to deal with one more daddy’s pocket leech…
"On the bright side, we finally perfected the citrus glaze for the salmon, and the guests couldn't get enough of the hors d'oeuvres last night, so I guess the test was a success.."
When you finally stopped talking and walking, she found herself face to face with an… interesting looking thing on a plate.
“What is that?” She said, dumbfounded.
“Oh, that’s the lemon pie thing you asked for.” You answered nonchalantly. “I told you it wouldn’t work.”
“Are you serious?” Her stance and tone changed, cold and threatening like you had the joy of experiencing earlier this month. Didn’t shake you anymore though. The dumb smile on your face was still there, dangerously creeping into a smirk. She couldn’t wipe it for some reason.
“Yeah, that sucks. I guess I lost three hours of my life.” You shrugged, eyes lingering on the edible failure staining the porcelain. “Doesn’t taste bad, though.” You handed her a piece with a spoon you’d clearly already used, and Momo’s stare hardened.
“Fix this.”
Obviously, you would. But you couldn’t let it happen without messing with her first. So you stared right back into her eyes, holding her gaze just long enough to make her doubt and fear the opposite. The tension hung thick in the air, reaching a new high, until she finally broke away and walked off, her frustration evident in every step.
You watched her walk, the smirk now very apparent and mocking her back.
“I’ll do just that, you don’t have to worry.” You cupped your hands around your lips to make sure she heard it, distracting a few chefs around you.
You were oblivious to the looks they threw your way, your gaze was focused on Momo’s retreating figure.
"I'll leave you some on your desk, make sure to try it!” That smirk was evident on your lips, and she could hear it in your voice, feel it getting under her skin.
You were a challenge alright. A damn good one.
Momo walked back into the building only days later. You frowned at the sight of her, shoulders obviously tense paired with familiar sour features. The exposed skin told you a lot about her potential whereabouts these past few days. Added to the rumors going around, it didn’t leave that much of a mystery…
“Oh, we’re cooked.” Ryujin, the intern, mumbled under her breath, catching yours and a chef’s attention.
“Yeah, we should have seen it coming.” The chef, Mingyu, sighed, dropping a heavy pan on top of the counter beside you.
“Why, what happened?” You asked, easing yourself into their conversation.
Ryujin’s eyes widened, startled by the interruption. “I uh,” she stammered before Mingyu spoke up.
“Word on the street is, her father set her up with Park's daughter.” He chuckled to himself, making you curious.
“Park’s daughter… The Park branch daughter?” You asked, the name ringing more and more familiar. “You mean Jihyo? Isn’t she managing the H-Lounge?”
H-Lounge was a private, high end rooftop lounge managed by Mr.Park, Mr.Hirai’s right hand man. Big bar, little food, and big walls; a white collar’s favorite and the Hirai’s most profitable branch. From what you knew, Jihyo’s been pretty much running things for years now, her father only still there because of Momo’s.
“Yeah, but she’s on her way to the throne basically. Her dad’s been pushing for her to take the reins for a while now. Old man’s tired.” Mingyu commented, pulling a laugh out of Ryujin.
You squinted, watching as Momo disappeared around the corner to her office.
“Yeah. But didn’t they try to go solo with the Lounge once?” Ryujin asked, furrowing her eyebrows as she recalled rumors from a year ago. “Sounds kinda fishy.”
“And shady.” Mingyu nodded. “Seems to me like Boss Hirai’s desperate to make her stay.”
“Which one?”
You were confused out of your mind, and Mingyu could tell. He was amused when you met his eyes, begging for some clarity.
“Both,” he said. “Power play. Or two birds one stone type of deal. A Park-Hirai marriage would be beyond convenient for him—Jihyo’s a hot head, she could never hold this whole thing together without Momo stepping in at one point, he knows that. It’s the only way he gets to keep both of his most precious assets.”
You shook your head. There was no way. The idea didn’t even match with the Momo you knew. "I don't see it. Momo's way too stubborn and prideful to let something like this happen to her. She's not the type to be manipulated like that."
"You think?" Ryujin asked, raising an eyebrow.
You nodded. "Yeah. I mean, you see how she handles things... Father or not, she won't just bend to someone else's will.”
Mingyu shook his head, a knowing look in his eyes glued on Momo’s figure passing by. "I think she already is..."
You all watched as she disappeared around the corner to her office, and you noticed her shoulders slump for the briefest of moments
It was a slight, almost imperceptible shift, but it struck you deeply for some reason. For the first time, you saw a crack in that impossibly unyielding façade.
A mix of concern and confusion washed over you. Despite the fierce exterior she projected on that comeback walk, there was clearly more weighing on her than she let on. Could Mingyu be right? Was Momo already being pulled back into the company's grasp despite that stubborn pride of hers?
You felt a rush of protectiveness overcome you, but quickly pushed it aside. What a useless, unbased feeling. Momo was fine. She wouldn't let herself be manipulated so easily… Right?
You pondered on the question for a while, but came up with the same answer every time.
She’ll be fine.
You sighed as the day wound down, leaning against a counter. Your gaze wandered to the door to Momo’s office, finding it closed as always. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen nor heard it open since earlier that afternoon…
Was she still there?
Curiosity and concern got the better of you, and you decided to take the opportunity to show her the new and improved lemon pie she’d asked you to fix.
You made your way to her office, the building now eerily quiet. You didn’t wait for an answer before walking in. It was surprisingly dark, only lit by a small hanging light attached to the wall above the desk. This place was such a broom closet… You almost felt sorry for her then remembered what she’d told you.
"Technically this is still the kitchen, this wall is literal plastic."
You mentally scoffed at the memory. You couldn't believe the pettiness of that woman.
"What is that?" Momo asked, her eyes lifting from the paper for the first time in what felt like days.
Whatever was in that plate definitely looked better than the last thing you’d presented her. It held a certain finesse she wasn’t indifferent to.
"It's the pie you asked for," you said, eyes twinkling in pride. “Well, a deconstructed version of it.”
“It’s not what I asked for,” she trailed off, observing the fine details. Her eyes traced the delicate swirls of meringue and the vibrant yellow of the lemon gel. It wasn't what she had originally envisioned, but there was a beauty to it she couldn't deny. "But it's pretty."
You smiled, taking a seat on a corner of her desk as you pulled out a spoon as an offering. A clean one this time.
She was hesitant. Messing the dish up would feel like a crime, but so was leaving food unattended. So she finally dug in, picking up a bit of everything before humming at the taste of it all.
“Tastes the same as the failure, just… so much better.”
Your face lit up at the mention of that failed attempt a few days earlier. You’d kept your word and left it at her desk, hoping she’d have a taste despite the failure. It still had potential, and you wanted her to know.
“You had some?” Your eyes sparkled, and it made you look so much sweeter than you’d been lately. Momo felt herself falter for a second, slipping you a gentle smile before catching herself.
She cleared her throat, lowering the spoon down, the latter clattering on the porcelain as she went for another bite.
“I did.” She nodded. “You were right by the way. It wasn’t bad at all, just… unfortunate looking.”
You were only surprised she was admitting it; and this easily no less.
“So what do we do now? Do we listen to me more, or…?”
Momo sighed, and a victorious smile made its way to your lips before she even uttered the words. “Fine. You can freestyle a bit.” You cheered, and it took a lot for her not to mirror your happiness. “Don’t get too excited. You better follow the menu.”
“Or then what?”
She only glared at you, and the switch in her gaze was enough to turn you down. Or on. [What?]
“I’m kidding. Glad to be working with you.” You said, flashing her a grin that she could only see as cocky.
Momo's eyes rolled in annoyance, getting up from her seat and picking up the blazer on the back of it. As she gathered her stuff, you understood she was going home for the day. It was getting late, the restaurant had closed a couple hours ago and all the staff was gone too. You should get going too, but you feel a sudden pang of reluctance…
“You're going already?" You blurt out, unable to suppress the urge to keep her here just a little while longer.
Momo raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your sudden change in demeanor. "You just shook my hand," she pointed out.
"Well, yes, but..." you trail off, grasping at your brain for any excuse to keep her here a moment longer. You couldn’t explain it. You didn’t understand either, but there was something about her presence that you find strangely comforting in the moment.
Maybe it was the lack of noise and chaos in the background, behind the office door she kept closed; only for you to burst it open anytime you had a complaint or an idea.
The silence, the dim lighting, their absence or her presence… Or the fact that she was actually pleased with your work for once. Explicitly at least. Most likely a gas leak you didn’t know about that messed with your thoughts—you couldn’t tell. But it was something.
There was something keeping you glued to that desk.
She was about to leave again, but this time you reached out and grabbed her hand, your fingers closing around hers in a firm grip. Both of you froze, the air suddenly charged with… again, something as you held her gaze.
"You said you'd be stepping in," you blurted out once more, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. You weren’t sure what possessed you to say it, but now that it was out there, you couldn’t take it back.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching as her mind raced to make sense of your words.
When she’d told you she’d step in, she didn’t think you’d take it seriously. That was her first mistake maybe, but to her, stepping in meant overseeing the preparations, making decisions about the menu, and handling the logistical details of the banquet. She never intended to actually cook alongside you, and quite frankly, she didn’t know how you could possibly think she would.
Were you stupid or purposefully getting on her nerves like you so often seemed to enjoy? Didn't you realize she had other responsibilities, obligations she had to take care of over cooking?
This was literally why she’d sought you out.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
"You haven't helped once in the kitchen since we started, and it's basically been a month," You retorted, your tone edged with frustration. "For someone who prides herself on integrity, you sure are amazing at keeping your word."
Your words were like a slap to the face, and Momo felt a surge of defensiveness rise within her. Your claims sure were bold for someone who did nothing but defy her words ever since the beginning.
But beneath the anger, there's a stain of guilt, a nagging feeling that maybe - just maybe - you might have a point. From a certain angle, you could say she did kind of manipulate you into working for her by throwing that phrase; or let’s call it as it was : an empty promise.
Momo sighed as she struggled to find the right words to get herself out of this. Your gaze was merciless on her, probing and insistent as you waited for an explanation. Or just admittance.
"I meant overseeing things, making decisions about the menu, handling the logistics, the usual," she finally explained, her frustration evident in her tone. "I still have a million other things to take care of for that banquet, you know. It's not like I can just drop everything and spend all day cooking with you."
She paused, searching your face for any sign of understanding or sympathy, but all she found was a stubborn determination. A refusal to back down from your position. And despite herself, she felt a small spark of admiration flickered to life within her.
"Look," she continued, her voice softening slightly. "I appreciate your dedication, I really do. But you have to understand that I can't just drop everything to cater to your whims. I have a responsibility to my family, to our guests, to ensure that everything goes smoothly. And if that means I have to delegate certain tasks to you, then so be it."
Her words were only met with silence. She waited for your response, bracing herself for another confrontation. But to her surprise, you nodded, a hint of understanding in your eyes.
The relief washing over her heart at the sight startled her. Why did she want to see it? Why did she want you to understand anyway?
"Alright," you said, your voice calm and measured. "I get it. I just... I guess I was hoping for more, you know? More than just orders and instructions. I wanted to be a part of something. Contribute in a meaningful way."
“You are a part of something, Y/n,” she reassured, and the hand she dropped on your shoulder caught you off guard. Her gaze had softened, but it only made you panic.
Here comes the guilt tripping, you mentally sighed, bracing for impact.
Before you could even muster an attempt to deflect the incoming emotional onslaught, she continued, her words flowing with as much determination as you were used to. "You know, this banquet isn’t just another project for me. It may not seem like it, but I care about it a lot. I take it as a farewell, a thank you to my family and the opportunities they’ve gifted me."
You opened your mouth to intervene, to offer some semblance of resistance, but she plowed on, crushing any attempts to cut in. "And not only are you a part of it, you’re leading it, Y/n. I trust you."
The words hit like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. One of the rare times in your life. Here you were, caught in the midst of a heartfelt moment, unable to muster even a hint of humor to lighten the mood. With a silent sigh, you resigned yourself to the inevitable, silently acknowledging her words.
All you could do was drop your gaze, nodding. You almost felt shameful for trying to ignore her possibly having feelings.
“Thank you for trusting me.” You muttered, fiddling with your fingers before looking back at her. “I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly. Food wise at least.”
Momo nodded in acknowledgment, finally removing her hand from your shoulder. Her feet stuttered before turning away. She’d made it to the door pretty quickly, but a sudden thought halted her tracks.
The sudden stop in the sound of her expensive heels caught your attention, and you looked up at her. Your gaze and eyebrows silently inquired her, and she smiled sheepishly. Another display of vulnerability that made your heart jump.
“Can I bring that home?”
Momo nodded towards the desk, referring to the unfinished dessert you’d brought her. She wanted to take it to her mother. Give her a preview of what was to come in a couple weeks.
The request made you smile. A little happy if you dared to say so. You reached for the plate to hand it to her, only to take it with you as you finally got up from that desk. “Wait, let me get you a takeout box.”
“We have takeout boxes?” She said, dumbfounded. You only stared at her, speechless but not surprised. You could only shake your head, before leading the way to the kitchen.
“I was just kidding by the way, I know we have them.”
She didn’t. Something you proved when you made her search for them. You let her walk around and act as though she had any idea where anything was in that kitchen before she gave up and surrendered to your amused, almost mocking gaze.
You added a few more of the day’s tests and leftovers into the box before packing it all up before sending her home with a smile.
She was nice to be around when you weren’t trying to step on each other’s toes.
The dining room of the Hirai residence was bathed in soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over an overly elegant table set for two. The head of the table felt empty with her father’s absence, a recurring one lately as he tended to matters deemed important for the company. Momo usually sat on his right, like she did tonight. Her mother, Mrs. Hirai, took her seat right across. Despite the picturesque scene, a palpable tension lingered in the air. Another recurrence Momo dreaded every day for months now.
Momo longed for the laughter that used to bring her family together around this table. The same one she announced her intent on renouncing to the heiress title. The same seat she’d left holding back tears at the words her father had thrown at her over a year ago.
Mr. Hirai never meant any of them, she knew that. He’d told her that, apologized soon after and long ago. But the thought, the scene, the sound… It’ll always tug at her heart, and dig the tears from deep within.
Momo swallowed hard at the sudden flashback, suppressing the pain. She managed to do that quite well; better as time passed.
The only problem was how she still couldn’t say a word at this table.
Conversation flowed in fits and starts as both women picked at their plate. Mrs. Hirai seemed determined to bridge the gap growing between them, her attempts at small talk falling flat against Momo's stony silence.
Then came a time where she was unable to bear the awkwardness any longer. The older woman cleared her throat and fixed her daughter with a searching gaze. "Momo, dear, I must say, this is all absolutely divine. You must have put a lot of thought into it."
Momo glanced up, her eyes meeting her mother's briefly before returning to her plate. "Actually, it’s Y/n who’s behind it all," she admitted, her tone guarded.
Mrs. Hirai's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Y/n? The new chef at your restaurant?"
Momo nodded, her mind already bracing for the inevitable conversation about her future. “A real talent for sure. Lots of potential. The whole experimenting thing is something we needed.”
Concern etched Mrs. Hirai's features before she composed herself, her expression becoming more serious. "Momo, don’t you want to reconsider at least once?”
Momo's shoulders tensed, steeling herself for the argument she knew was about to unfold. "Mom, we've been over this. I've made up my mind."
Mrs. Hirai regarded her daughter with a mixture of resignation and disbelief. "Think about what you’ll be leaving behind, it makes no sense! This company is your birthright, it’s your legacy, you have to uphold it."
Momo sighed, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I know, Mom, but I just don't want it. You’re asking me to be the head of it all as if I haven’t just been taking orders and following plans my whole life. I’m telling you I can’t bear all that, I don’t…"
Tears pricked at Momo’s eyes, “I don’t want to fail.”
"I understand, dear.” Mrs. Hirai's expression softened, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “But you have a responsibility to the family, to your father's legacy."
"I'm trying, Mom! Why do you think I go on all these dates for?" Momo's frustration boiled over, her voice rising slightly.
Mrs. Hirai recoiled slightly at the sudden outburst, her expression pained. "Well, it is taking a while," she murmured, "Maybe you should reconsider your approach."
Momo's jaw clenched, her frustration only mounting. "It's not my fault they're all brainless," she muttered, stabbing at the poor short ribs you’d braised to perfection. "Half of them are grossly aroused by your pockets. If you're fine with that, then tell me, and I'll gladly shorten the process."
Mrs. Hirai sighed, a mix between sorrow and anger. "Momo, we just want what's best for you. The company is important, yes, but so is your happiness."
As much as the company mattered to her parents, Momo’s happiness came above all. They’d worked so hard to provide for her, to ensure she never lacked anything. Especially love. Theirs had birthed this wonderful girl, whom they nurtured with, only wishing for her to find her own.
Seeing their daughter ready to sacrifice such a value broke their hearts more than her leaving the company.
"I know, Mom. I just wish..." Momo's shoulders sagged, her anger dissipating as she met her mother's gaze.
Mrs. Hirai saw the opportunity to mention what's been lingering on her mind. "I noticed your father has been setting you up with Jihyo. She's a capable woman, and the Park family is influential. It could be a good match for both of you, professionally and personally."
Momo scoffed, tearing through the last of her cutlet. "Jihyo’s basically the daughter of our closest enemy. She’s a wild card, Mom.”
Mrs. Hirai blinked, taken aback by Momo's bluntness. It was a true definition, but such frank acknowledgment of their family's associates was rarely spoken aloud. It felt like breaking a taboo.
“Momo��”
“Listen, she's a nice enough person, but she's not what I need nor want. I know Dad thinks that pushing me towards her will make me stay in the company and keep things stable. Nice try, but we’re not six, and it's not fair to either of us."
Mrs. Hirai's face softened, "Momo, he just wants to make you jealous,” she said, a light chuckle leaving her lips.
“What?”
“You’re giving your father too much credit, as always.” She shook her head, clearly amused. “Remember when you actually were six and didn’t want to go to bed? The way he went to grab the dog and act all cuddly with it, instead of you? He’s doing the same with Jihyo. Grabbing the closest thing to replace you, hoping you’ll come tear it up and claim your place again.”
Momo's eyes widened, processing her mother's words. She was over here claiming she was so old and mature now, but he was doing the same thing as when she was young. Getting a hold of the closest, emotionally threatening enough thing around to get her to listen to him.
"So... he's not serious about Jihyo?"
Mrs. Hirai sighed. "He's serious about wanting you to stay. He thinks seeing Jihyo in your place will make you reconsider."
Momo shook her head, feeling the tears well up in her eyes again. "I don't want to be manipulated like this. I want my decisions to be mine, not because Dad is playing games."
Her mother reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on her daughter's. "I understand, dear. But sometimes, those who love us most will do anything to keep us close."
Momo's lip trembled. "I don’t care, it's not fair, Mom. How can you be okay with this?"
Hearing her mother back her father’s insane behavior was heartbreaking. Disappointing. Momo's chest tightened, a nauseating mix of frustration and betrayal surging within her as she caught her mother’s eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"I'm not saying I agree with his methods, Momo. But I know he's scared. Scared of losing you."
Momo looked down, her tears finally spilling over. "I just want to live my own life, make my own choices. Why can't he understand that?"
Her mother sighed, squeezing her hand gently. "Because he loves you, and he's afraid. Afraid that without the company, without us, you'll be lost. He doesn't realize how strong you've become."
Momo shook her head, frustration and sadness mingling in her heart. "I wish he could see that."
Mrs. Hirai nodded, her voice gentle. "Show him, Momo. The banquet is yours. Let him see what you can achieve on your own terms. Prove to him that you're capable of making your own choices and succeeding."
Momo took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. "You really think that will make a difference?"
Mrs. Hirai offered her a soft smile. "I do. Just be patient.”
Momo nodded, though the weight of her father's manipulations still pressed heavily on her heart. As she focused back on the food on her plate, her thoughts wandered back to you, and she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope.
That glimmer of hope, it burned softly within her heart. Still too weak for her to feel anything other than relief at the thought of you.
“Can you at least pretend to be useful?” You snapped, slamming an oven door shut. “I need everyone on deck, and you’re just standing there complaining!”
The kitchen was bustling, the whole brigade rushing around to perfect their dishes as the deadline for the banquet loomed closer. Momo had scheduled a tasting tonight, placing you at the heart of the chaos. You tried to maintain control and ensure everything was perfect, but it was hard doing so when someone seemed determined to get in your way.
Momo's behavior had shifted over the past two weeks. She'd started paying more attention, trying to be more involved. It wasn't purely altruistic—she saw a silver lining in your presence. One that could solve all her problems. You challenged her in ways she hadn't experienced since her rookie days, igniting a new source of motivation. For once, she felt driven, compelled to prove herself.
So she decided to make you feel at ease—for her own gain, yes, but you won something in the deal, didn't you?
After that night in the office, she made it a point to be around more, offering assistance, and listening to you more.
It was promising.
But she had to ruin that too.
Today, she decided to supervise the brigade as you prepared for tonight's tasting. Her presence was only getting in the way of everyone, especially you. You tried to keep your focus, but Momo's constant hovering and her split attention were grating on your nerves.
As she stood in the kitchen, her phone buzzed constantly with texts from Jihyo. She tried to juggle the mounting pressure from her father, the complications with Jihyo, and her responsibilities; but it was obviously getting too much on one plate.
You glanced at Momo, noticing the tension in her posture, the way she bit her lip as she read her messages. The way she moved, the way her eyes sparked with intensity—it all captivated you for a second, distracting you in ways you didn't need at the moment.
Momo’s irritation mirrored yours. She snapped her head up from her phone, eyes blazing. "I would if you gave me anything remotely interesting to do. I won't just fetch things for you like some errand boy."
You scoffed, crossing your arms, trying to ignore the way her anger only seemed to add to her intensity. “Seriously? Picking and choosing at a time like this? If you were just going to screw me over you shouldn’t have bothered in the first place!”
Momo only chuckled, “Really? Because I could have sworn you’d begged for me to be here.”
“Right.” You nodded. “When I did that I didn’t think you’d take it as an invite to smear yourself all over anything I do again. We agreed you’d let me handle the kitchen, why are you so hellbent on keeping tabs, just let me do my job!”
“This whole thing was my idea.” Momo shot back, stepping closer. “You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me. That name you’re so proud of means nothing without my backing.”
“You’re not doing anything but sabotaging yourself.” Your voice dropped into a dangerous whisper. “I’m gonna need you to take your eyes off your own ass and look around you. Who do you recognize?”
Momo stayed silent, her mind racing. She glanced around, seeing the faces and eyes focused on her—some confused, some irritated. She realized she couldn’t put a single name to any of them. Her heart sank as the reality of her detachment hit her. The bustling kitchen, the brigade working tirelessly, and she couldn’t even acknowledge their efforts properly.
She felt a knot of frustration and embarrassment tightening in her chest.
You chuckled, “See what happens when you’re too busy playing corporate princess? Just let me f****** handle it.”
Her anger flared again, some kind of defense against the sting of that realization. “You think you’re so indispensable, don’t you?” she hissed. “That your presence is the only thing holding this together? Get over yourself, Y/n.”
“Sure I will. Please, lead the way like you so beautifully know how!” You gestured, hands as sarcastic as your tone.
The tension was palpable, your breaths mingling as you stood face to face, neither willing to back down. For a moment, it seemed like the argument might escalate further, but then Momo broke eye contact, her gaze shifting to her surroundings.
“Your arrogance will be your downfall,” she spat, voice trembling with suppressed rage. “You think you’ve done such a great job running this s***show, huh?”
When she looked back at you, her eyes met yours with nothing but anger as something else she couldn’t quite place tried to ease itself in. She hated the way you managed to make her feel—vulnerable, exposed.
“You better prove it tonight or I’ll make sure you’ll regret ever stepping into this kitchen.”
Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you standing amidst the chaos, that short and fragile truce between you two shattered yet again.
Tasting sure was going to be interesting…
That same night, the dining room was elegantly arranged, a stark contrast to the chaos of the kitchen earlier in the day. The table was set with fine china and crystal glasses, casting delicate reflections under the soft, ambient lighting. Momo sat between her parents, a tight smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes. Around the table were key senior staff members, trusted friends, and a few family members, all eager to sample the menu.
You, along with your brigade, moved seamlessly between the kitchen and the dining room. You made sure to put your hard earned skills to use, presenting each course with a practiced grace, detailing the inspiration and techniques behind every dish. Despite the tension in the air linking you to Momo, your professionalism never faltered, though your eyes rarely left the plates you were serving.
Each course was met with nods of approval, murmurs of appreciation, and the occasional question, which you answered with an admirable precision. Momo, however, remained silent, her gaze fixed on her plate. Her parents exchanged glances, concern etching their features.
When dessert was finally brought out, a hush fell over the table. You presented the dish—the deconstructed lemon meringue pie—explaining the delicate balance of flavors and textures. The room filled with the scent of citrus and caramelized sugar.
"Momo," Mrs. Hirai's voice cut through the murmurs, "you haven't said much tonight. What do you think?"
Momo looked up, her eyes meeting her mother's before shifting uncomfortably to the food in front of her. She felt the weight of everyone's gaze, including yours as you had paused in your explanation to listen.
"It's... it's very well done," she finally said, her voice painfully devoid of any enthusiasm. "The team has done an excellent job."
Her father frowned, leaning forward. "You can do better than that. Your opinion matters here. Speak up."
Momo's jaw tightened. She spent the entire evening avoiding your gaze, the argument from earlier still fresh and raw. Both of you were acting like children after a petty feud over a toy, going out of your way to avoid acknowledging each other.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "The dessert is innovative and beautifully executed. It’s exactly what I envisioned for the banquet."
Your eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and annoyance, recognizing the lie she’d just pushed through her teeth. She hadn’t envisioned anything—you’d fought tooth and nail over every detail up until hours ago.
"Thank you, Momo," Your voice strained in an attempt to stay polite. "I'm glad it meets your expectations."
The air grew thicker with obviously unspoken words. Momo’s parents exchanged another glance, sensing the underlying tension.
Mr. Hirai cleared his throat. "It’s important for us to be honest during these tastings. If there’s anything that needs to be improved, now is the time to speak up."
Momo felt her irritation grow. "I said it's fine, Father."
"Momo, we're just trying to help.” Her mother interjected gently, “If there’s anything you're not happy with, you need to communicate that."
That’s when you decided to step in, your tone sharp. "I think we all understand the importance of feedback. I have to say Momo's input has been invaluable—despite her current silence."
Momo's eyes flashed with anger. "Invaluable? Really? Seems to me like my input has been more of an inconvenience to you."
Your jaw clenched. "I never said that. But if you actually participated instead of hovering, it might be more constructive."
"Participated?” She shot back. “You mean following your every whim? I have better things to do than micromanage your kitchen."
The room fell silent, the tension palpable. You caught Momo's parents looking between you and their daughter, realizing just how deep the rift had reached.
Mrs. Hirai spoke up first to try and defuse the situation. "Let’s not forget why we're here. The food is excellent, and we’re all looking forward to the banquet. Let’s focus on that."
Momo took a deep breath, faking a smile. "Yes, Mother. You're right. The food is great. Let's enjoy it."
But the damage was done. The altercation had cast a shadow over the evening and lingered in the air, unresolved and simmering just below the surface.
The kitchen was finally empty, the last of the staff having been dismissed for the night. You leaned against the counter, the cool steel pressing into your back as you took a moment to breathe. The day had been long and grueling, but at least the tasting was a success, earning yourself and your brigade a few days of rest before the banquet.
You should feel relieved, at least a little bit, you knew that. Yet you couldn’t break free from the weight of the air around you, mounted with tension from yours and Momo’s altercation.
It was suffocating. The hold she had on you, you could say you’d allowed it if only you could put a stop to it. If you at least wanted to make it stop…
The sound of the door to the kitchen creaking open halted your thoughts and Momo stepped inside. You could tell by the heels clicking softly on the tiled floor, and the way you instantly straightened yourself.
You watched her approach with guarded eyes, noticing her arms crossed over her chest. You mirrored her posture when she came close enough, crossing your own, guarding yourself up.
Momo noticed, eyes flickering to the tattoos peeking from beneath your rolled-up sleeves. She hadn’t seen those a lot, only finding out you had them when she started hanging around the kitchen more. Might have been a reason for her to do so, asking you to go and reach for utensils high-up just to peek.
She shook the thoughts away, finding your eyes and focusing on them. “Hey,” she began, her voice softer than you were used to. “Good job.”
The words almost made you choke. You swallowed hard, mouth drying up at the bitterness suddenly filling your heart. Momo waited for an answer, probably feeling entitled to one before she remembered you’d never given in to her.
“How are you feeling?” She tried again, leaning against the counter across from you. Her soft tone matched her eyes this time, so you allowed yourself to answer her.
“Fine, I guess.” You shrugged, eyes sweeping the floor. “It went well.”
She nodded, hesitating. “Yeah, it did. My parents were impressed.”
“That’s good to hear.” You replied, not looking at her.
Momo took a deep breath, steeling herself. "About earlier... I'm sorry. I’m the one who started yelling. Wasn't really professional of me."
You chuckled, finally meeting her eyes. "Did you just apologize? Didn't know you had it in you."
Her irritation flared once more. "I'm serious, Y/n. I get that this isn’t something you’re used to from me, but I can admit I was out of line."
"Okay, okay," you said, raising your hands. "Apology accepted."
You were so… nonchalant about it. As if you couldn’t care less. If you were honest, you could, but the reaction you were having didn’t exactly reflect that. It wasn’t the one she expected and she didn’t like it.
She almost started another argument before catching herself. Her jaw clenched, holding back some words to replace them with others she deemed more… gentle. Better suited to air out her frustrations. “Why are you still so defensive? The tasting went well anyway, didn’t it? Everything was perfect, my parents loved it, and everything has your name on it. You got what you wanted so why the attitude? Stop being so childish.”
That kind of shut you up. Momo couldn’t believe the silence that followed her words. She was right, you were adult enough to admit that. Just not enough to do it out loud. Not enough not to talk back.
You just had to do it for some reason. Maybe it was because her words struck a nerve, hitting closer to home than you were willing to admit.
"Fine," you muttered. "But you’re not exactly making it easy."
You honestly felt like a child, not being able to process or understand what's happening, so you took out your frustrations the only way you knew how to : throwing a tantrum.
Momo sighed, exasperated. "Are you going to keep this up during the banquet too? Does talking back to me and disregarding me turn you on or something?"
You scoffed, but it’s painfully evident in the moment, that you’re indeed attracted to her. But you’d never admit that either. You wouldn’t because, apart from her being attractive, you can’t tell why that is. “You wish.”
“You know what, maybe I do.”
You felt your breath catch in your throat, and Momo caught you struggling. She wanted—no, she needed—to let you know. That you couldn’t hide from her. Yet her lips refused to do anything else than let you know her own truth.
“Maybe then I could make a reason out of your behavior,” she whispered, words trembling in frustration.
Silence. Not an uncomfortable one, but odd. Eerie. Neither of you knew what the next words would be or where they’d come from, but you sure were getting ready for them.
Her eyes weren't looking into yours anymore. They were searching, reflecting, maybe even reaching out to her own fears. You saw it—the shift, the hesitation.
You didn’t expect her to speak up first.
“If you can’t do it for me then do it for yourself,” she started, “If this fails my family will take a hit, sure, but ultimately you and I both know we’ll be fine. Your career’s the only thing on the line here.”
Her voice was cold, icy, cutting through your ego with reminders of where you stood in this environment. In this industry. She jabbed her finger against your chest, making each one of her points clear and painful.
So you grabbed her hand, pushing it down with enough force to make a statement and let your stubbornness shine through yet again
"Don't," your voice low, enough of a threat to pull a reaction out of her too.
Momo's patience snapped. She grabbed a fistful of your white button-up, creasing up your pride and pulling you closer, her eyes not leaving yours.
You noticed for the first time, just how pretty she was and how dangerous that is. Your heart was desperate to make you feel it, practically racing against her own.
“You know what,” a smirk quivered on your lips at how tightly she held onto you. “Maybe this is all about more than just work.” You strained out, words slipping and pushing through the limits you’d drawn around her.
You reveled in the way she let you go. Her fist released your shirt, pushing you away only for her fingers to linger on the fabric and keep you from going too far.
You made a point to step back, biting the inside of your lip when she took a stepped forward.
Maybe it did turn you on a little.
"I warned you earlier, didn't I?” Her eyes burned into yours, as if trying to distract you from the weakness she’s been displaying. “You do whatever you want on Friday. One wrong move, and I might just keep my word this time."
"Maybe you should," you retorted, your eyes flashing with defiance, provoking the spark of anger in her own.
Her proximity was intoxicating. It would be betraying your own words, painting a coward out of yourself, but you still tried to step away. Your foot carefully slipped back, ready to carry you elsewhere and flee.
Halfway there, and you were back to square one. Suffocating under Momo’s impulse, drowning into the feeling of her lips continuously crashing against yours…
She pulled you back in even closer, her fist having claimed itself around the fresh crease of your shirt. You didn’t fight to remove it this time, finding it much easier and pleasant to surrender.
Your kisses were vicious against each other’s. Anything but gentle, fueled by anger and weeks of built up frustrations.
You lost yourselves into a simmering attraction neither of you wanted to acknowledge. Even when you found enough strength to pull apart. And even less when you realized just how much it took to do so.
The air seemed to thin out, charged with more tension than it held moments ago. More than ever before.
Your breaths were heavy, mingling with hers as you stared at each other’s features in shock and confusion.
Momo’s eyes were hazy, lips a neat mess and swollen from the kiss. “This doesn’t change anything.” she whispered, visibly shaken by her own actions.
You only nodded, busy trying yet unable to process the depth of what just happened. She slipped herself away from your arms and you watched her go, a mixture of frustration and longing churning in your chest.
The night felt colder, the kitchen emptier as you stood there, thoughts in a whirlwind. The kiss had changed everything and nothing, leaving both of you with more needs and questions than before.
“You kissed her?!”
“No, she kissed me!”
“That doesn’t matter!”
It really didn’t, Jeongyeon was right. So you let her slap you on the arm, the sting a light and playful discipline.
A couple of days passed, and you wasted two days of your hard earned break wallowing on your couch until Jeongyeon came by to drag you out of it for brunch. You complained the whole time, for entertainment purposes, but you were thankful for her.
With how busy you’d been since joining Momo, the two of you had only seen each other once. You made sure to keep her updated though, or rather she did by pestering you and teasing you about both your behaviors. She managed to keep herself up to date with every single little thing that had happened between you and Momo.
All except the latest.
“Like it’s my fault?” You argued, “Who wears a cropped dress shirt to a tasting…”
Jeongyeon chuckled at the state of you. All sprawled out on the table, chin resting on your forearm as you played with a few crumbs of your toast. She noticed the way your eyes wandered far away from this table, probably digging into your memories of Momo in that cropped dress shirt.
How pathetic, to her delight.
She shrugged at your words, reaching for her cup. “Less fabric, less stain prone. She’s got a point.”
You threw a piece of bread at her, but she dodged. “Why did she wear a tie then?” You straightened yourself up in your seat. “Seems to me like that would be just as much fabric as a regular dress shirt.”
Jeongyeon rolled her eyes, “Stop blaming the shirt, and get a grip. You kissed her because you like her.”
“Back. I didn’t kiss her, I kissed her back.”
“That’s still a lot of kissing. So you’re not denying it, huh?” She raised an eyebrow, and snickered when you sighed. “You like her.”
You ran a hand through your hair, exasperated. "I don't even know what I feel, Jeongyeon. It's... complicated."
Jeongyeon smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Feelings usually are. But denying it won't make it any less true."
You groaned. "She's infuriating. One minute she's criticizing everything I do, the next she's—."
"Kissing you," Jeongyeon finished, taking a sip of her coffee.
You wanted to knock that smirk of hers (lovingly) off her lips, but resigned, feeling yourself smile at the joke. Too bad she was being truthful too.
"Yeah.” You fiddled with a napkin in your reach, your smile fading as you thought back to the moment. “And it wasn't just a peck, you know? It was... intense."
Jeongyeon chuckled. "Sounds like there's some serious chemistry there. Maybe all that fighting was just foreplay."
You glared at her, but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips again. "You're not helping."
She leaned forward, her expression softening. "Look, Y/n, you've always been passionate about your work. Maybe she sees that and respects it, even if she has a hard time showing it. She's probably just as confused about her feelings as you are."
You sighed again, feeling the weight of her words. "Maybe. But what do I do now? She’s git the worst timing ever, we’ve got the banquet coming up; I can't afford any distractions."
Jeongyeon smiled knowingly. "Just be honest with yourself. And let go of your pride a little, who knows, maybe then she’ll be nice to you. If what you both truly want is for that banquet to work out, you’ll know to set this aside for now. Behave, and the rest will follow. Probably."
You gave Jeongyeon a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by her attempt to absolve herself of responsibility. "Probably?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.
Jeongyeon shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Hey, I'm just here to nudge you in the right direction. The rest is up to you. Relationships are messy, but you'll never know if you don't try."
You sighed, running a hand through your hair again. "I guess you're right. It's just... a very uncharted territory right now."
Jeongyeon nodded, her expression turning sincere. "I know. But she might just be worth getting into it, I mean… I wouldn’t mind letting my guard down around her.”
You rolled your eyes, "Of course you wouldn't."
"You should do the same," she said teasingly. "Seriously, Y/n."
You looked down, a small smile playing at your lips. "Maybe. We'll see."
"That's the spirit,” Jeongyeon grinned. “Now finish that toast and get back out there. You've got a banquet to hold. And a girl to figure out."
You chuckled, “Yeah, I do. Thanks, Jeongyeon."
"Sure. Just invite me to the wedding."
Momo stood in front of the grand mirror in her room, adjusting the final touches of her outfit. The sleek black suit, paired with a statement pearl choker, gave her an air of authority and elegance she loved to see on herself. The sharp lines of the fabric contrasted with the delicate jewelry, creating a powerful and refined look.
She glanced at her reflection, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Her mind raced with thoughts of the evening ahead, the guests, the speeches, the food, and most of all, you.
Since that kiss, everything had become a whirlwind of confusion. You were infuriating, challenging, and utterly impossible to read. The kiss had only complicated things further, as if that relationship needed another tangled strain. What was she thinking… It was hard to focus on anything else when she replayed the moment in her mind, over and over again. Your lips on hers, the intensity, the fire—it had been unexpected, unplanned, and yet, it felt strangely good.
And then there was Jihyo. The situation with her was just as headache inducing. Jihyo's texts, her father's manipulations, and the pressure to stay in the company-everything just kept weighing on her. Yet somehow, in the midst of it all, she didn't mind any of it. As if the kiss had awakened something in her, something allowing her to bear all that weight. She hadn't felt that in a long time. It made her question everything, including her feelings for you and what she truly wanted for her future.
She didn’t like that. But she didn’t exactly mind it either.
As she walked into the venue, her eyes scanned the room, filled with guests fighting for best dressed mingling along with some others… settled for comfort. The atmosphere was buzzing, poking at Momo's racing heart. She felt nervous, not just from the pressure of the evening, but from the thought of seeing you again. She hadn't seen you since that night in the kitchen, and she wasn't sure what to expect.
It took a while, but her eyes finally found you across the room, looking dapper in your chef's uniform. For the first time, as a sign of gratitude and hopefully good news for your future, you were made to wear the official uniform of the Hirai kitchens. The jet black jacket, adorned with the restaurant's insignia, felt weird and new, but the colors … You could get used to them, and the material was soft enough.
You were talking to one of the guests, a polite smile on your face, but she could see the tension in your posture. You must have felt her gaze because you looked up, eyes locking with hers for a brief, electrifying moment.
You took Jeongyeon's advice to heart, determined to behave, to keep things professional despite the need to lash out at your own confusing feelings, and by extension; her. So you approached her cautiously, using the distance separating her from you to try and calm that pounding in your chest.
"Momo," you greeted, your voice came out steady enough, but your eyes betrayed your nerves.
"Y/n," she replied, her own voice calm.
You stood there for a moment, the silence hanging heavy with the memory of your kiss, a palpable tension neither of you could ignore.
"You look nice. Very professional," You finally said, breaking the silence. Your words were sincere, and for a moment, Momo's heart slowed.
"Thank you," she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. "You look... different."
You chuckled, the sound easing some of the tension. "Yeah, I do. It feels weird but... good."
You stood still. Just there, awkward and unsure, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. Anyone passing by could tell there was something between you two, although not able to put their finger on it. Not any more than you could. But you tried; to find a way to move forward without letting your emotions get in the way of the night's success.
"I think we should... talk maybe," You said, your voice dropping to a low, almost hesitant tone.
Thankfully Momo nodded, wanting nothing more. Until she remembered where she was. "Yeah, we do. But maybe not here. Later?"
"Later," you agreed, relief evident in your eyes. "For now, let's focus on tonight."
"Agreed," she said, her resolve strengthening. "Let's give them a night to remember."
The banquet was in full swing, and Momo couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as she watched the guests enjoy the evening. After her brief but intense interaction with you, she’d thrown herself full swing into hosting, greeting the most important guests warmly and ensuring everything was running smoothly. She could see you, now dressed in the official Hirai colors, making your rounds with the staff in the kitchen through the glass doors.
She liked the sight. Enjoyed it even.
As the main courses began to be served, Momo took a moment to catch her breath, her eyes scanning the room. Everything seemed perfect, but she knew better than to let her guard down, and just as she was about to step back into the fray, one of the staff members approached her, looking visibly distressed.
"Ms. Hirai, we have a problem in the kitchen," the staff member whispered urgently, causing a surge of anxiety within her.
“What kind of problem?”
"The main course... there's an issue with the meat—well, it’s more the ovens not working properly—but we don't have enough time to fix it without some quick thinking."
Momo's heart picked up the pace again. This could ruin the entire evening.
Without a second thought, she hurried towards the kitchen, her mind racing with solutions. As she entered, she found you there, looking equally concerned.
“Y/n,” she called out, catching your attention. “We have a problem.”
The tension between you both flared up instantly, old arguments resurfacing in the heat of the moment. You tried to stay focused, but her presence was both a distraction and a relief. You were stressed, and seeing her only added to the pressure.
Momo crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What's going on? Why wasn't I informed earlier?"
Your jaw tightened, trying to keep your frustration in check. "It's under control. We have a backup plan. I'm using the emergency meat, but we need to cook it quickly and differently."
"Good," she said, biting back her irritation. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
You paused, debating on teasing her about stepping in, but it wasn't the time nor place. "Can you go around and make sure everyone is on time? Report back to me if there's any issue."
She nodded, her gaze softening slightly. "Got it."
As she moved through the kitchen, checking on the staff and ensuring everyone was on schedule, she couldn't help but notice the tension in your posture. Despite the pressure, you remained in control, your hands moving with precision as you prepped the backup meat. She saw the way your brows furrowed, the way you bit your lip in concentration. It struck her how much you actually cared, how deeply invested you were in all this.
When she returned to you, she gave a quick update. "Everyone's on track. No issues so far."
"Good," you replied, a brief moment of relief flashing in your eyes before the stress settled back in. "Thank you."
Momo only nodded. She wanted to say more, to ease your tension, but the words wouldn't come. So she just took a step back, intending to head back out when her eyes caught sight of a pile of uncut vegetables next to you.
"Is anyone on these?" she asked, motioning to the vegetables.
You cussed under your breath at the sight of them, wiping the sweat from your forehead. The meat chaos had messed with your train of thoughts... "Damn it, no. I completely forgot."
Momo stepped closer, pushing her sleeves up. "Relax. I'll handle it."
"What—Are you sure?"
You would question the move, but the help she was offering was too precious.
Momo nodded, already reaching for a knife. "Yeah. How do you want them cut?"
The way she proceeded to handle that knife shouldn’t have been a surprise. She did belong to a respectable culinary lineage, but seeing her in action was something else entirely.
You felt a strange sense of relief wash over you as you witnessed her skills from the corner of your eye. The fact that she was actually helping you made the situation feel a little less overwhelming.
The two of you worked side by side, and you could feel the tension easing up its hold onto the two of you as the minutes passed.
It was suddenly easier to breathe.
Much later in the night than you’d have liked, you stood outside the restaurant, the air of the night cool against your skin as you savored the last drags of your cigarette.
The streets were calm, the occasional hum of traffic in the distance adding a weirdly soothing track to the end of it all.
The banquet, everything had finally come to an end, and successfully, but the lingering thoughts of Momo and your unresolved tension clouded your mind.
You mindlessly watched as the guests left one by one, their laughter and chatter fading as they climbed into expensive cars and drove away. The soft glow of taillights disappeared around corners, leaving the street empty and silent every time.
You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl into the dark sky above.
Sure, that little moment in the kitchen earlier was nice, but… There was still a lot to work through.
A familiar sound of stilettos against the rough concrete pulled your eyes off and away from some sweet looking Mercedes. It didn’t compete with the sight you knew was awaiting
Momo stepped outside and startled you with a soft, “You smoke too much.”
You looked over, a faint smile on your lips. “Well, I’m trying to quit, but I deserve this one.”
She chuckled, taking a seat beside you. You watched her, feeling bad for the expensive suit you’d eyed any chance you got. All night. “You’ll mess your pretty clothes up,” you said, stubbing out the cigarette.
“Who cares,” she brushed off. “Night’s over anyway.”
You nodded. Couldn’t argue with that. “Congratulations, by the way. Was your mom proud?”
Momo smiled at the recent memory of her parents congratulating and thanking her for her hard work. “Yeah, they both were.”
You eyed her fingers as they fiddled with each other. It made you smile, how no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to hide that shy part of her.
“Was the outfit supposed to be a statement?” you asked, and she shuffled, telling you it might have been. It amused you. “You shouldn’t have. Did it shake you up that much?” You smirked as though you hadn’t gone to cry about it to Jeongyeon.
“About that night…” she trailed off, silently hoping you’d take the reins.
“It’s okay. I won’t tell your suitors.” You shrugged, half-jokingly.
A small, playful but sincere gesture that slapped Momo in the face. She had completely forgotten about her little side quest with the pressure of the past few days. And also because you’ve been the only thing on her heart’s mind since your kiss. Before stepping out to join you, she even cut things off with Jihyo through a text, thinking it was finally the end of it all. She’d forgotten about all the other ones.
“Oh.” She managed to say after slowing her thoughts down. “Thanks.”
“No problem…”
A few long and awkward seconds passed.
“Wait, are you gonna carry on with those?”
Momo pursed her lips, thinking. “I don’t know.”
She really had no idea. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to quit the company anymore. Until her dad told her he’d slowly been warming up to her decision as he left moments ago, she forgot this was her last project.
It was great news, yeah, if it weren’t for one little detail you helped her realise a little too late.
She didn’t want it to be.
Momo cleared her throat, her lips opening and closing a few times before managing to get the words out. “Are you going to stick around?” she tentatively asked.
You shrugged, playing it cool although you had a feeling her question meant good news. Hopefully in both professional and personal parts of your life. “If you want me to.”
Momo grinned, “I wouldn’t mind.”
You nodded, suppressing a smile. “Will you?” you asked, and she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Will you stick around too? Or are you quitting and leaving the country to become a dance teacher on the other side of the world?”
“How do you know I dance?” She laughed.
“You’re a public figure, Momo. Investments make headlines, especially the heartfelt ones,” you reminded, referring to the time she donated a generous amount to her old dance school in need.
“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?”
“Not really. Just news stuff.”
“Right.” You felt her eyes on you, rightfully suspicious. Another silence settled, although this one was a little less awkward and shorter. “Have you always wanted to be a chef?”
You simply nodded at the question, not wanting to dull the moment with details. “Thank you for the opportunity by the way. I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you, how rude of me.”
“You’re welcome,” she chuckled. “You deserved it. A lot of guests asked me to send their compliments to the chef.”
Her nudge to your ribs made you pull away instinctively, the sudden contact sending a rush of warmth to your chest. You looked down, hiding your smile as your mind rewound back to your first meeting. “You never called me chef, by the way.”
“And I never will,” she said assuredly, making you chuckle. It was all you could do for now with your focus on her hand fiddling with your own, watching as she intertwined her fingers with yours, the other caressing the exposed and sketched skin of your forearm.
She sure had gotten comfortable. The way she leaned into you, her touch becoming more familiar and assured... You wondered where it came from for a second before remembering how bad of a job you were doing at hiding the effect she had on you so far.
Well, if that’s what it got you…
“Bet on that?” You teased. A little provocation, for grounding purposes.
Momo just nodded though, still assured, and it made you even more curious about what she had in mind for her to be. “Why not?” you probed.
She only smiled, observing your features long enough to make you blush in the night. She inched her face closer to yours, her hand squeezing around yours. It felt only natural for you to lean in, and the nose scrunch she did was new, but the grin that came with it had you guessing it was a good thing. She couldn’t help but giggle as you leaned in, and you almost forgot what had pushed you so close until she spoke up.
“I’ll call you much better, and more flattering things than ‘chef’… darling,” she whispered.
You folded immediately, and this time, you were the one that kissed her. This one was much sweeter, softer. Flavors from the night dancing on your lips, teasing the ones on your tongues. Dessert and smoke, a blend of sweetness and bitterness that felt just right.
When you finally pulled apart, breathless, you felt her lips turn into a smirk against yours.. “Doesn't mean we’re done arguing, though.”
“It doesn't?”
She shook her head, her free hand reaching for a displaced lock of your hair. “Not until you quit smoking.”
“I told you I’m already trying to.”
“I know, but I also happen to think you look hot doing it.”
“Can’t wait to fight about me being hot then.”
———
@cry4mina thank you for supportively bullying me to finish this i hope you liked it
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